From what I've read there is a longer version of this floating around somewhere. If any of you have it - hit me up! I have a sneaking suspicion that someone ends up getting their ass kicked.
You know you had fun when the next day you wake up with a concussion and realize you not only left your phone, but you also forgot your clothes, underwear, sunglasses and self-respect at the club.
This condition is more commonly known as "high maintenance". It happens when all your sexual experience comes from Ikea tutorial videos, so you seek the refuge of desperate males and develop less communication skills than The Undertaker. #sadtbh
Brittanya Razavi channels her inner Gordon Ramsay. Kagney Linn Carter puts herself on a list. Pierre Woodman blurs the language barrier for the 900th time this year. And Amai Liu... Well... let's just say we finally have a real threat for Jake Paul. #bookit
A laptop dancing internet stripper takes her fapping to the streets. Only problem is a viewer tipped off building security and her guerrilla sexual tactics are gonna get cut short.
There's only one reason people storyboard, shoot, edit and upload this kind of shit to the Internet. And it lives somewhere in between "I need to pay my taxes" and "$1 dollar pizza slices make me shit blood". Just three of life's little guarantees. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-]
Another vigorous pairing of perverted miscreants that would be better suited opening at the Gathering of the Juggalos instead of having freedom of choice in a semi-coherent society.
Everything in life has a proper explanation if you open your mind. Except the homie trying to scrub daddy his dirty walnut on a Tuesday afternoon in broad daylight around the 1:45 mark. NORAD will hear about this.
Behind the scenes of a classy title like "Lesbian Bukkake #8" is something like you could never imagine. Ever wonder what it's like behind the scenes? Probably not, but sometimes these thots fail in epic fashion and it's hilarious.
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
