What happens when you let your BBC-obsessed husband talk you into the kind of Smackdown WWE would be jealous of? Here's a hint: You end up booking a legendary Iron Man match, but there's no winner.
It's mind over colon in the world of extreme anal porn and this busted bitch is a friggin' jedi master. Years of determination, training and butt hole abuse were all worth it to make this magical feat of beauty possible.
2004: Facebook launches for the first time, Ashlee Simpson jigged her way into irrelevancy and this jovial mother fucker was using his power of aspergers to give second stringers a reason to show up on set. Half girth, half Pokemon.
I've seen a lot of people do a lot of repulsive shit just to keep their rent paid. But whatever backyard bangcock bumblefuck blownout butthole bullshit is going on in the last clip? That's a level of holistic hemorrhoidal care I hope to never see IRL. Discuss your disgust [-HERE-]
FORNICATION: It's pretty basic stuff. But for Goober McAutismo over here it might as well be mission impossible. What you're about to see may quite possibly be the worst excuse for sexual entertainment that's ever made it online... and that's coming from someone who sat through all 74 minutes of Edward Penishands. Twice.
This is what happens when you allow incels to explore live environments. Safe spaces are invaded, genitals get exposed - all because some guy who thinks Ethereum will be the world's currency couldn't get his weiner wet at the last box social and is now living a revenge fantasy.
Pork sword bros break the first rule in Ghostbusters 101, clown horn honking gets a new identity and whatever the fuck fight the girl at 1:12 is practicing for is something I feel should be featured on this site in the future. Somebody fetch my finest Walmart polyester linen, I wish to ejaculate.
Honestly this one could have rolled credits right after Donatello got his tits greased with tomato sauce and you'd still have an unwanted memory to try eradicating for the foreseeable future. But where's the fun in that?
Irrationally sized flobberweavels, a urethra that's suffered more abuse than whoever the fuck bought Barstool for $500 mil and the recreation of a classic in glorious high(er) definition. Don't think of this as the balanced breakfast you need, think of it as the one you deserve.
