German dude gets blasted in the face by a fat wad of his own man sauce and nearly pukes all over himself. I guess this kinda invalidates that saying "everyone loves their own brand" haha.
Yeah uh... so is this what studio porn has evolved into? Because if I've lived to the point where people are actually spending money on producing cleverly disguised Cialis commercials we may have finally reached the bottom...
Just scroll to the 4:20 mark for the definitive highlight of this sacrilegious compilation of misguided deviants. Last time I saw self-harm this determined was in a max-coping GME thread on wallstreetbets. And much like his/her ability to hold in a solid, I think it's time to pack it up and admit defeat. disclaimer: This is financial advice [you retard].
The real hero of today's adventure should be whatever surgeon sews that bag of expired beef back together in the last clip. It seems learning how to be a boxer through YouTube videos with a language barrier has consequences. More [here]
A girl down on her luck turns to porn for some quick cash to get back on her feet, but what follows is one of the worst porn spectacles I've ever seen.
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 killed. Don't think the same is applicable to sucking dick? Neither did she.
LIFE LESSON #27: If you have worse rectal control than one of the golden girls; seek out another hobby. Last time I saw someone pay for skidmarking this abusive he was ultimately banned from Chipotle at the corporate level. (me, it was me) [song]
First-timer foolishly assumes her debut appearance is going to be a walk in the park. Emphases on the word walk, because it looks like all her future tours of Italy at Olive Garden are going to be wheelchair accessible from this point forward. What in the fuck...
I gotta say; supreme vag on the redhead. Haven't seen a pair of lips that impressive since the time I got caught with a VHS rip of Fast Times at Ridgemont High and the last jar of Smuckers Sweet Orange Marmalade. Mother's Day hasn't been the same since.
Anybody have the technical name for this phenomenon? or a real explanation? Specifically one that doesn't involve voodoo dolls, Penn & Teller or Planet Wing's suicide sauce. I want answers.
Over the course of 15 years, I've tried saving the word epic for oddities that truly work for the definition. And let me tell you friends: If an emotional beat down of a daddy-issued ketamine-lifer doesn't earn it, the 4-inch race-rampage in the final act will lol.
