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.
First time I've seen a wife rental video where the girl and her hired gun are left more humiliated than the husband. 7 1/2 inches of New Orlean's finest essentially left them completely mute, save for some sobbing that is usually reserved for the customer service desk at Lululemon. Hilarious.
3:40 is today's highlight. The fact that this behavior generates sustainable income blows my mind. Imagine taking one of those suburban mass shooter interrogation videos and crossbreeding it with Pepto Bismol. Then masturbate with steel wool cause that's the pain I feel watching.
Today we learn three crucial things, so grab your colored pencils and pay attention: #1: Voyeurism is alive and well #2: Sexual misconduct is always negotiable. And #3: Lifetime bans from Macy's aren't a big deal. Lets get it.
I've seen a lot of people do a lot of repulsive shit just to keep their rent paid. But whatever backyard bangcock bumblefuck blownout butthole bullshit is going on in the last clip? That's a level of holistic hemorrhoidal care I hope to never see IRL. Discuss your disgust [-HERE-]
An all-minority female cast ultimately leading to me losing faith in life itself? You can go ahead and file this under The 2016 Ghostbusters Reboot of Porn. And Bill Murray can't save you this time.
What's mine is yours. And what's yours makes her think walking away from that 4-year degree in Anthropological Gender Studies of Amazonian Tree Frogs to do this instead was a bad idea.
There's really nothing more emasculating than getting taunted over your sexual inadequacies, save for maybe your mom walking in on you as you spank it to Robin Williams in Jumanji. The point is... Jumanji is a great movie and unfairly disregarded.
Consider this an open letter to the content creators out there: I will donate the $13.75 I made trading Krypto Kittys with down syndrome to a charity of your choosing, in exchange for promising to never use condiments on your wiener ever again. The balls are in your courts.