Epic poker face @ .57 mark. I call this one the 'i totally just nutted in my own mouth but i dont even give a fuck cause i have a 6.7 inch penis and listen to Rage Against The Machine on vinyl' look. Dude's got that shit mastered.
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.
These stories have not been embellished, because - they need no embellishment. They are simply, horrifyingly, the story of the average degenerate human sharing space on this planet with you. Except that last one...It'd be more believable to call that woman a scientist, because the elements she's finding in there are undiscovered by man and Bill Nye.
College level alcoholism and risk seeking behavior has led them to a ratchet motel, wasted off vodka red bulls and making a quick $100 each. Shouldn't be any surprise that these girls never did porn again.
Classic case of overconfidence. If only he put as much effort into his hygiene as she did into Walmart bathrooms she choose to get tattooed in, then maybe this permanent mark on his resume could have been avoided. Live, learn and always wipe twice.
Do their porno dreams come true? Fuck no. Instead, four average-ass mother fuckers attempt to make sex with the prestigious Christy Mack, and each and every one of them brutally embarrasses themselves.
Some of you may be asking the question: "How the hell did it take you so long to get something together for [Hannah Hays]? The fuckin story writes itself.". Honestly... it's overwhelming. Her rabbit hole seems to have more alternate endings than Baldur’s Gate 3.
These awful pornographic gems were all attempted with eroticism as a goal. I.E. People were somehow meant to masturbate to this shit, but what these clips lack in fap value they make up for with lulz.
Dr. Fucktown and his friend come up with another street scam that leaves you slightly moist but mostly disappointed. Not the worst reason to jump the pond and do a little sightseeing. In fact, throw in a bowl of your finest pork knuckle and I might make a weekend out of it.
Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
