You can brag about your male pattern baldness all you want homeboy. But if you're not turning all vaginas within a 3 mile distance into your own personal bowl of Hungry Jack Mashed Potatoes, are you even living the Costanza?
Go ahead and label this the blurring of lines between equality in the work place and PTSD, as illustrated by sex acts that have led more adult diaper sales than In n' Out's Animal Style. Never before has adult entertainment made me prouder of my cataclysmic cache of Walmart rewards points.
Poor prosti gets sandbagged by a local gentleman who's only sexual experience involves Walmart's checkout line & Colt 45. But apparently her dugout is built for the major leagues, cause despite his John McLane ingenuity... she still walks away with a smile. Fucking amazing.
It truly never ends. Let's just label this one the Shawshank Redemption of "wtf, your load tastes like Alan Greenspan's deceased asshole" Alan probably isn't actually dead, but I trust that the implied mental image is still effective. Game on.
For fuck sakes, these dorks could've thrown a dart at any billboard in Las Vegas and found better ideas to attach to their bodies permanently. I haven't seen people this far out of their comfort zones since the launch of Burger King's ultimate breakfast platter.
[she] claims her oldest body is somewhere in between "i trade crypto while working at Walmart" and "the first signs of adult onset diabetes" age range. But today that ceiling is getting mashed. Because our boy toothless wouldn't be able to eat them any other way.
Nothing quite spells EFUKT like a supposed 'Navy Seal' turned male pornstar challenging 80+ CSUN students to a backyard brawl, whilst completely naked and armed with nothing but a slowly deflating boner. HAHA.
Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
Not since the 2005 release of 1 Night In Chyna have I seen a woman with such a fucked up misunderstanding of eroticism. She grunts like pirate, pisses all over the place, and has a finishing act that'll assfuck your brain cells.
For a box that probably has more miles on it than grandads '69 Chevelle; it's in stellar condition. In fact, it might be setting the bar too high for fellow terrorKink enthusiasts to follow. I don't know if I should be impressed or slide in those DM's and ask for the cattle prod discounts. According to this video, they do exist. More RDG [HERE] and [HERE]
