Shane Diesel the type of nigga that gotta stand when he poops or his dick floats in the water. His dick so big he can't even go balls deep on these professional cock smugglers without causing serious internal injuries.
There's just no hiding from your past once you pull the trigger on something like this. Their Ross Store wardrobes will be forever stained. The regret can't be washed off. And the $27 paycheck isn't enough to drink the memories away. #crankthattherapist
Human Toilets & The Non Fungible Assholes. No, that's not the name of the next great Portland garage band, however the post-view flea bath is still required. The smell of Drakkar Noir and Astro Glide may come out of those walls, but... the stories. The stories are forever.
Those crazy porn directors have made a full movie featuring the entire systematic sexual conditioning of ones daughter into a fuck buddy. All in magnificent POV. Disturbing? Sure. But is it fappable?
If attempting to monetize your most private confessions is any sign of a recession, I'd say we're at the tip of an iceberg that would make the dotcom bubble look like like an afterthought. I'll be expecting a lot more of this until Jim Cramer capitulates.
onlyfanz: Some sign up to get a girl through hard times. Others are forced after capitulating an attempt to pay prostitutes in Wendy's coupons. They all start off good, but much like me during Terminator Dark Fate, it only takes 27 seconds to realize you just wasted your money.
As we head towards the final sunset of a year that gave more than one reason to disembowel our own eyeballs with a stinger missile, it's time we reflected. May 2024 bestow upon us more trolls, deeper holes and Twitch.com finishing it's metamorphosis into Chaturbate.
Sonuva bitch... dude's packing the kind of penis that can only be described as "an emergency every time I have to take a piss". Time to call up AARP and find out what size wheelbarrow they're willing to cover for this kind of disability. Something in a dual-wheel polycarbon should do it.
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
My first pay-to-play happened in a Burger King toilet stall. She was more Kurt Perry than Katy Perry, Kinda foul. Not even a triple replay of Heather Graham's bush in Boogie Nights changed the mood that night. But... if I had this guy's attitude? Life... life would be different.
Round 2 for the most depraved, fatherless clout-chasers on the Internet as we know it today today. I'm talking about real deal independent women here. The kind that pay for their birth control with subscriber money. [Part 1]