I've never seen Gianna cave before, no matter how big the cock. It's as if her vaginal canal is made of Teflon, with more square footage than James Van Der Beek's forehead. But after watching this, I'm not so sure.
As we head towards the final sunset of a year that gave more than one reason to disembowel our own eyeballs with a stinger missile, it's time we reflected. May 2024 bestow upon us more trolls, deeper holes and Twitch.com finishing it's metamorphosis into Chaturbate.
Show me a woman that puts this much emotion into her goose hole jabberwocky, and I'll show you the kind of 90-Day Fiance episodes actually worth watching. Now somebody knock down a retaining wall so big Ed can get his neck through the door, and lets start the sequel.
Hey, no one said you had to like it Natalie Portman. Just lean forward, keep a tight grip on those communal wieners and think about all the Baconators you'll be able to purchase at the end of the week. That's what keeps me going. Her first appearance HERE.
You don't have to be a full blown beta to experience this level of salami sloshing. Just find a girl that's sexually attracted to Amibos & the lifetime bans from all major entertainment venues will flow in faster than you can complain about them on Twitter. We may be at the point where the rise of this fetish needs clinical studying.
The more this behavior becomes mainstream, the harder it's going to be to come back from. Just ask the portfolios of any person that's posted on r/wallstreetbets. [more here]
I imagine this is what happens when all of your knowledge of the English language comes from Pizza Hut commercials and TikTok. In fact, I may have just uncovered a form of communication so useless that California colleges might start offering 4-year degrees in it.
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down Milli Vanilli's splash damage was the last fucking thing I had my bingus card. Watching a stranger crack your s/o's purple turkey just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, anytime someone makes middle aged women squeal like a 2 for 1 HomeGoods sale, eyebrows are raised.
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
The farther below the equator you go, the crazier behavior you'll find. A novel concept, and one that's officially reinforced by the pair of donut glazers walking the streets like it's fucking fashion week. Just being an observer might give you Hep-C.
