Hobo Jones coughs up 5 singles for a back alley knob-slob. Takes all but 23 seconds to reach climax, at which point he immediately helps himself to a full refund by forcefully robbing her and running for dear life... leaving her in the dust with a mouthful of bum cum! Instant classic.
If you we're an emotionally messed up prostitute, I'm sure you would fucking hate talking about your life too. But would you hate it more then sucking the dick of a self-titled "crack whore connoisseur"? More crazy in the source link.
Two things you should definitely abandon before agreeing to have sex with total strangers: Self-respect and Beef-a-roni. One of these is more important than the other, and I'm just gonna let you figure out what order they should be in.
Another posse of preoccupied partially sentient protagonists wondering if they could but never questioning if they should. These things would have never happened if they just gave Jeff Goldblum the Oscar.
If there's one thing that never fails to flat-line a hardon - It's how far Japan is willing to go gate keep the title of Commander of Repulsive Sex Acts. So here's one that won't be getting beat any time this decade. Reddit gags, I laugh, You bookmark.
Not only do women work fewer hours than men, they choose different careers. Women are more interested in people, while men are more interested in things. They also take more browns to the Super Bowl than the NFL ever has in 98 years. - Jordan Peterson
The lore actually goes deeper than you could have ever imagined. It's not about the volume of anonymous vagabond cocks. It's not about the money. It's about sending a [fucking] message.
Consider this a 4 minute tutorial on why you should always stay away from those folks that consider a $50.00 Mernard's gift card a form of foreplay. Remember Norman Vincent's words: “Always shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll still land among the hepatitis."
The more inbreeding in your bloodline, the further you'll go to seek sexual satisfaction. A simple concept, officially reinforced by whatever director's cut episode of Survivor Man is going on in that last clip. I'll put it this way; in comparison it makes Jeppson's Malort seem like a fucking delicacy. It's that abhorrent.
If attempting to monetize your most private confessions is any sign of a recession, I'd say we're at the tip of an iceberg that would make the dotcom bubble look like like an afterthought. I'll be expecting a lot more of this until Jim Cramer capitulates.
The insane story of an emotionally disabled prostitute/pornstar/sugar baby/urinal-for-hire with HPV and herpes that literally wrote the book - 9 times. She claims her dead sugar daddy made her a millionaire and now haunts her... wow.
Some "feels" I am glad I will never experience in life. Driving the speed limit, menstrual cramps, bamboo fingernail torture, or when a unlubed and unwelcome penis randomly kicks open the door to the house of pain.
