On a dark night in some soviet shithole, crazy old man Vlad drank on his medication, put his birthday suit on and now he ain't taking no shit from no stupid Volvos giving him any crap.
Nice face. Amazing body. It's the the choice in coworkers where she starts to lose me. To each their own, but personally I would prefer my sexual fantasies to have as little to do with osteoporosis as humanly possible. Bonus lulz at the [3:28] mark when our boy almost checks out mid-nutshot.
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.
He finally decided it was time to let his wife try fucking a black dude... just once. He even films it so they can look back on this special moment. Good call because half way through he starts getting wet feet about the whole 'stranger fucking my wife' thing.
You don't have to be a tier-3 to experience this kind of homemade hysteria. Just zero in on the girls that are sexually attracted to Amibos and the yoinked "donations" will flow in faster than you can complain about them on Twitter. [Part I]
Congratz! Local Russian folklore states that if you are visited by the naked battle gypsy of St. Pete you will be forever blessed by good fortune. Don't look directly at her vagina though, or they say she'll curse you with impotence.
4 out of 5 physicians would advise against this kind of behavior, especially in public venues. But a life of chronic digestive and reproductive complications doesn't really seem to concern these prodigies. Big risks = more clout. And more clout = more fashionably retarded short form content.
Not every one of today's carousel of evolutionary's most gifted were born with the poker face of Clint Eastwood. So when you bare witness to the equivalent of a vaginal SCUD missile, understand it took practice to get here. [more]
I can't imagine what life decisions lead to your obituary being littered with the words "twerking" and "public nuisance" and "30,000 volts". But I'm betting it involves the neighbor's parakeet, and all 16 delicious flavors of Rice-a-Roni. (fuck you Rice Pilaf)
