Not exactly the most unexpected chain of events from a class of people that come less prepared for war than whoevers handicap stall I invaded at Waffle House last week. Sorry Wheels, but the bucket in the janitor's closet simply doesn't meet my capacity standard.
"I'll tell ya one thing about my personal life that I've never told before. I never fucked a ten, but one night, I fucked five twos. And I think that ought to count. I think that ought to go in your record as a positive achievement." - George Carlin
The Spider-man of rope slinging is back and setting records Guinness refuses to recognize for some reason. Something about prosthetic nutsacs and bannable material. Well... he's legit and I have the research to prove it. [PART I]
This might eradicate any train-running fantasies you might have once had. But it will also peak your curiosity as to how Danny Glover spends a Saturday night with friends. It's what us Internet folk call a video that's perfectly balanced, as all things should be.
Is this still considered pornography? Or something that gets submitted to a performative art school as a final project? Because if you're waxin carrot to shit like this, it might be is definitely time for intervention.
Introducing yet another gaggle of Jerkmate's B-squad. Fresh off the bench and filled to the brim with asparagus and dollar store beer. Judging by some of these reactions one has to think the aroma they perspire is akin to the cellar of a Pakistani bath house.
Here it is. Round 2 in what is arguably the most offensive thing you can do in public besides mothershipping the handicap stall at Baskin Robbins. But unlike those shit gremlins - these titans of societal norms actually film the entire thing.
Meet the Helen Keller of casual sex. At first I was like cool, another fake video I'm exposing my White Snake loincloth too... and then I realized this is 100% legit and should be in the first chapter of every sign language program in the country. Hit me up Rosetta Stone.
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.
Desperate for attention and not afraid of having their pork chops on the Internet forever. If these aren't the quintessential for the independent woman of 2023, I don't wanna know what is. Now ladies, make sure to save that OF cash. The Valtrex isn't going to overnight itself.
It's that time once again to highlight some special times in webcam hookerdom. Witness e-prostitutes having breakdowns, getting attacked by small reptiles and other awesome wtfness.
