This self-titled pimp from Arkansas goes by "Mrlongstroke2015" and today he has invited two ratchets over for a threesome show. One problem: the girls just beat him up.
Scene's over and it's time to go home... but first this starlet has a complete mental unraveling. Her tears and plight do little more than generate awkward lulz and kill the mood for the next girl.
Well... that's a first. Not only did these two manage to confirm "4th hole theory", but the recipient in question actually looks like she'd be willing to try it again without being held at gunpoint. I haven't been this mystified since realizing Mario Lopez doesn't age because he's an android.
I honestly thought she was faking/farming interaction up until the middle of this. After that her reactions are priceless. Particularly the "i think there's a pack of wallabys gnawing the inside of my sphincter" look that is persistently peppered within this fever dream. Find her live [here]
A happily married couple is currently pushing the boundaries of amateur porn. They're both jizz fanatics that mix their love of semen with public escapades. I wish I had a friend with a wife like this.
Consider this a 4 minute tutorial on why you should always stay away from those folks that consider a $50.00 Mernard's gift card a form of foreplay. Remember Norman Vincent's words: “Always shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll still land among the hepatitis."
Her ability to wipe her ass is on par with Tom Sizemore's ability to not beat women. Fortunately at least 1 person in this vid has some considerable talent, and that's the dude that miraculously didn't peel over & die after getting a whiff of her shit-box!
This girl has 1 of the nicest racks I've ever seen. But bundle that with an extremely frigid personality & you then have the biggest disappointment since Macaulay Culkin's The Pagemaster. Seriously, this chick's so uptight she wont even do a facial. It's tragic.
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
He came packing a mullet, social-awkwardness and the body type/skin tone of a marsh mellow with prescription glasses. But that day back in 1998, he was a hero for 10 minutes at a gentleman's club in Arkansas.
Leaking classified information? Mumbling incoherent rants about setting third world countries on fire? Shit, even International Dick Cricket Infestation would have appeared on my list sooner than 1 Tinder gremlin subjecting herself to 31 separate 8-man gangbangs in the fucking barracks. Yet... here we are.
I imagine this is what happens when all of your knowledge of the English language comes from Pizza Hut commercials and TikTok. In fact, I may have just uncovered a form of communication so useless that California colleges might start offering 4-year degrees in it.
