You could throw a football in her asshole and hit nothing but net. She has the Mariana Trench of colons and today she's pushing the limits of pornography, breakfast, and ass sphincters all at the same time.
Aim for dry ground and let 'er rip. That's been the formula for centuries... until Krystal "i have standards" Steal showed up. You see, she has more apathy for body fluids than Paula Deen has for low fat potato chippies. Ever wonder what it would be like if KFC had an all-you-can-eat buffet? That's the kind of 'sounds fun but always ends bad' disappointment I'm talking about here.
Blue-balled midgets, schizophrenic autists, Miley Cyrus' fan base... this woman's sexual clientele is more well-rounded than IHOP's farmhouse breakfast. Unfortunately there's no visuals of penetration. But what it lacks in nightmares... it makes up for in California's voting pool.
We all have a calling. It may not be skeet shooting Reddi Wip's finest, or hitting a PB in Super Mario 64. But for homeboy at the 6:25 mark replicating what he saw on Discovery Channel's Rise of Warrior Chimps, life finally has a purpose. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-] [-8-]
I've never liked golf... or any sports for that matter. I don't see the point of putting balls in holes for points 'n shit, but when the goals have been replaced with holes, you have earned my attention.
What happens when a [rookie] with 2 months of experience attempts to power through a fetish shoot? Smiles fade. Excitement disappears. But the cattle prod PTSD? That goes deeper than Goldberg losing the world title to Kevin Nash on December 27, 1998 at Starrcade.
A special WTFM8 @ that last clip. There's a part at the end I had to cut out where our catcher says something along the lines of "that was fun and amazing". No Bruno. Reading from the digestive Necronomicon (white castle menu) before visiting a public pool is fun and amazing. What just happened to you is unforgivable.
Becky Bagels foolishly thinks her road trip to the swampland is going to be an uneventful one. That is, until her travel guide delivers the kind of backdoor beatdown that insurance companies are suddenly starting to add in-network coverage for. Many such cases.
It seems Allie Addison's apprehension levels are at zero, giving her little trouble with broski's maximum depth potential. And by little trouble, I mean the kind of potential organ rearrangement Art The Clown would be proud of.
Let me formally introduce you to GM. aka Grandpa Merrick. aka Wrinkle Rocker. aka Mr. Steal Yo Girl. Rather than live out his twilight years chasing dusty jellyfish, he wakes up every day and chooses violence. And intravenous Cialis.
Some women need a good meal and a text goodnight to reach their sexual peak. Others; a couple finger loops around the ole pastrami butterfly. And then there's [Vai] who will stop at nothing less than the full power of Optimus Prime to activate her O-face.
