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.
idk what exit strategy the mutant in the last clip is planning on, but this shit doesn't work for me brother. Seriously it's over for you and any unsuspecting Amish person you hire to tailor-make a pair of Fruit of The Looms wide enough to hide that monstrosity from the world.
The girl is [-Kesha Ortega-]. Well known. Built like a wood chipper. But the dude; He's just a bystander trying his best to appreciate the fine arts when he gets hurled into the role he was born to play. It's cinema really.
Imagine reaching a point in your life where fantasies just aren't doing it for you anymore, so you unleash an even deeper mental illness and create some sort of hybrid, cabbage patch fuck dance home videos and think not hiding your identity is a good idea. This is that point.
Easily the most try-hard bogus bullshit performances I've seen since YouTube's 'social experiment' revolution went off the rails. I have to point out though: nobody was injured, student loans were paid and girl #1's convulsions can double as a permanent case study for epilepsy. #win
Pug-faced Hispanic drinks herself so numb she doesn't even notice when last night's chimichanga is hanging halfway out her asshole. Her laugh is as bad as her hygiene. Sounds like something Steven Urkel would emit while making love to the dude from Wonder Years. Watch this one all the way through.
See that pretty face? Well, that's all you get because she's too busy getting seizure-fucked in the face by a cock raging french guy the entire clip to look at the camera. #rekt
If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
Left side of thumbnail = Her first scene. Right side = Higher production than current marvel movies. She's Ander Ways and as we wrap up another year of questionable erections, I give you reason #28971 to never judge a book by it's cover. Unless it's whatever the fuck this is. Then feel free to judge judy until your foreskin grows back. I'm on drugs until New Years. bye.
Real? Deceptive editing? The Goku of premature ejaculation? I don't have the answer this time. But just imagine if he went even further with this talent. Plan-B's entire industry would need emergency funding.
