Found this gem in the Italian film "Capodanno in Casa Curiello", which roughly translates to "New Years at Grandpa's House". Think combining the gothic undertones of The Adam's Family with the threatening erections of Boogie Nights wouldn't work? You thought wrong faggit.
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.
What the fuck happened to April O'neil? It seems a few years ago she entered into some sort of porn studio residency and is being forced to churn out horrendous shit like this at gun point. Today's flavor? One of the few Fortnite players that doesn't have body odor reminiscent of Regal popcorn butter". POGGERS IN CHAT ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ
All he's got in life is his balls, his bike, a GoPro and a dream. So ride along with our anonymous protagonist as he cruises through the city visually tea bagging unsuspecting females.
I haven't come across so much reason to develop erectile dysfunction on purpose since going down the lore on [this social media creature]. It truly is an unfortunate day to have eyes.
I never understood it. The idea of penetrating a chain-smoking ex-con bus driver with 2 blob fish bolted to her chest may work for some of you jabronis in the western world - but not me. I have standards.
For my Japanese-deficient friends, the original title of this masterpiece roughly translates to: "Nana Maeno Refrigerator Girl I Put My Step Sister In The Refrigerator And Turned Her Into A Frozen Sex Toy Nana" Do I believe more than 3% of those words? No. But honesty never got in between me and my cum sock before, and it isn't about to start now.
Here's some wisdom I picked up while watching an infomercial for Tony Little's Gazelle Sprintmaster - always maintain good form. Sloppy form is how people get Christopher Reeve'ed. Don't think the same is applicable to sucking dick? Neither did she.
At this point I'm not even questioning human behavior. The only thing separating all of us from being narrated by David Attenborough, are complicated sneakers and semi-automatic weapons. Turns out the Internet may have been a mistake after all. Parts: [1] [2] [3]
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
New year, same loathing for frost faced Bavarian cream. Gonna go ahead and give this episode my mushroom stamped seal of approval, if anything at all for giga gag at the 2:25 mark. Haven't seen eyes roll that hard since reading the employees must wash their hands sign in a Texas Roadhouse bathroom.