There's 3 things that simply no longer exist in my world: 1) pornography induced erections 2) positive feedback on my 'this is what a feminist looks like' tee and 3) dinners at P.F. Changs that do NOT result in 1st degree burns to my anus. This vid solved 2 outta 3.
My first pay-to-play happened in a Burger King toilet stall. She was more Kurt Perry than Katy Perry, Kinda foul. Not even a triple replay of Heather Graham's bush in Boogie Nights changed the mood that night. But... if I had this guy's attitude? Life... life would be different.
Essentially a hybrid of a "Got Milk?" PSA & a GWAR concert. Or in more comprehensive terms: 1-part health consciousness, 274-parts batshit fuckin aspergers. #NEVERFORGET.
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.
7 samples into a hot dog warming party goes horribly wrong when one rogue cowboy says fuck all to the rules and slings his gentleman juice around like he's in the handicap stall at Country Buffet. The result is a crash course on Plan-B and why IQ tests need to be mandatory in porn. [More Here]
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.
Don't let the plot line(s) fool you. This goofball's bloodline persona is about as real as KFC's employee hand-washing policy. Such as illustrated after her 'brothers' attempt at fucking the hippie out of her. Possibly produced by the Coen brothers.
Three years later and it seems [our boy] has ditched the mashed potatoes recipe and moved on to crafting a signature carne asada. ¿Felicidades mi amigo?
