If attempting to monetize your most private confessions is any sign of a recession, I'd say we're at the tip of an iceberg that would make the dotcom bubble look like like an afterthought. I'll be expecting a lot more of this until Jim Cramer capitulates.
Perhaps this can be classified as "small wiener compensation". It happens when homebois packing less meat than a vegetarian BBQ get discouraged by their girl's complete lack of excitement. Building a device that scalps your crotch is optional. Oh... you'll see.
This piece highlights some cases of shoulda locked the fucking door but I'm thinking with my genitals and other hilarious cases of people getting busted.
Buried in snippets among hours of gang bang porn is a story. The story of a shy 18 year old curiously browsing a porn store, then slowly mutating over a period of few short weeks. Amazing.
A former lesbian is getting fucked in beast mode by professional pornstar cock, and her brain can't even handle it. She cums so hard she sheds happy tears and it's frickin' beautiful.
Door Dash your chimichangas and fire up the Demi Lovato playlist, for you are about to witness the pinnacle of peak male performance. Not since the 2017 inauguration have I heard this many vegan-powered war cries go unanswered lol
Brain damage, simping epidemic, mental patient that smells like mashed potatoes: You degenerates can label this video with whatever tags you want. Nothing can stop true romance.
That first girl is something special. Her reactions may normally be mistaken for being on the wet end of a crypto rug pull or your proctologist reaching for spicy mayo instead of an authorized lubricant but trust me, this is something totally different. (Autism. It's autism.)
He says it's the best tip he's ever received but considering he's going to get fired for a 3 second blowjob... I'm not convinced. Also, never trust a girl who values her blowjobs less than what she tips.
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
