Congratulations on managing to fit your entire fist up your wife's tuna casserole. It's quite the lifetime achievement. Now if only you would quiet the fuck down and learn to expand your vocabulary some!
B-hole brutally wrecked at the hands of some Italians, likely won't be able to walk straight for a week. No, this isn't my review for the new Parmesan Crusted Steak @ Olive Garden. This is the infamous Rocco vs. Roxy Jezel scene, and you should watch the uncut version via the source link.
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.
Auto-fellaters, Braingasms and a straight up public service announcement fists should only be use in a boxing ring. Today's episode is more unforgiving than my local mall security that time I was discovered defecating in Anthropologie's Aromatic and Ambiance fragrance section.
Some "feels" I am glad I will never experience in life. Child birth, menstrual cramps, bamboo fingernail torture, or when a unlubed and unwelcome penis randomly kicks open the door to the house of pain.
Little engines that just fucking couldn't. If there was a "Special Olympics" for sexual performance, these guys would still be the underdogs of the league. The other retards would prolly bully them.
She seems like a nice girl. The type that would throw herself off a post office rooftop if you missed her text, or fuck the mailman's chihuahua if your Instagram pic got 0 likes. But her taste in recreational activities? Shit, I've seen happier faces cleaning toilets at the Renaissance Fair.
The Oakland Doorknob. German Knuckle Cake. Mongolian Taco Punching. Not buying Bitcoin when it was 73 cents. It goes by a lotta different names. But the shame... thats always the same.
This is what happens when you allow incels to explore live environments. Safe spaces are invaded, genitals get exposed - all because some guy who thinks Ethereum will be the world's currency couldn't get his weiner wet at the last box social and is now living a revenge fantasy.
So, who's really to blame here? The horse farm that secured their perimeter to keep her away from the livestock, or the guy with 4 Q's in his name that's keeping her on a 1-token drip for the past 4 hours?
And by experience, I mean one man blowing up his beer money on the kind of sexual endeavor that would shell shock a Vietnam war veteran. Speaking of blowing up: The only thing missing from that slaughter house between her legs is someone in the background screaming wUrLstAr and Floyd Mayweather coming out of retirement to fight it.
