Found this gem in the Italian film "Capodanno in Casa Curiello", which roughly translates to "New Years at Grandpa's House". Think combining the gothic undertones of The Adam's Family with the threatening erections of Boogie Nights wouldn't work? You thought wrong faggit.
Alright fellas, [-take a memo on your Newton-]: If girls aren't flocking to your Levi's like 1 star reviews to the newest Disney remake, then this might be in your future. Just keep track of those subscription fees so reality doesn't hit harder than 1996 did to Robert Downey Jr.
One of these days I'm going to edit some OC home videos into this series. A spirited evening behind a Tim Horton's dumpster specifically comes to mind. She had the kind of lips that swung around like a basset hound's ears during a tropical storm. I never looked at recycling the same again. MORE: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-]
Girls this determined to finish are hard to find without an Olympian background, so consider yourself lucky. Both for getting to bear witness to this unstoppable force, and for not having to be the one to explain the beef bourguignon shit stains on mom's new comforter.
Little engines that just fucking couldn't. If there was a "Special Olympics" for sexual performance, these guys would still be the underdogs of the league.
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.
Classic cases of unbridled overconfidence. If only these creatures put as much effort into velcroing their crotches shut in public, as they did into experimenting with pain medications: Then maybe these permanent marks on their resumes could have been avoided. Yikes and gadzooks.
I like her face. I like her enthusiasm. But above all I like her devotion to commitment. Her borderline absent reaction to an explosive device detonating inside her spincther however, has reinforced my stance on late-term abortions. Like, 35 years late. Toss a token in the abyss via the source link.
It may not be explicitly written in the rule book, but there's only one translation for the body language on the girl going Milli Vanilli on herself. And it exists somewhere in between "Car Batteries Are Not Sex Toys" and "Oops My Asshole Fell Out".
Aim for dry ground and let 'er rip. That's been the formula for centuries... until Krystal "i have standards" Steal showed up. You see, she has more apathy for body fluids than Paula Deen has for low fat potato chippies. Ever wonder what it would be like if KFC had an all-you-can-eat buffet? That's the kind of 'sounds fun but always ends bad' disappointment I'm talking about here.
