Tori Spelling's Guatemalan tit job, the hole in a Walmart bathroom stall and discounted Hamburger Helper on Craigslist: Three things I'd touch before signing up for story time from Rebel "my brain is bigger than my butthole" Lynn ever fucking again.
An emphasis on cardiovascular workouts and having better grip than David Tyree in the 2008 Superbowl simply wasn't enough to beat the power of experience. Pornographic material that incentivizes you to get educated really is an untapped market. Someone look into that.
Seldom do I say it but this girl is a cunt hair away from being worthy of a Black Angus prix fixe dinner on my dime. Unfortunately though, she has a clitoris like Adrian Brody has a nose.
Today we're rounding third on a baker's dozens worth of boner-deflating cringe collections so bleak, you'll wonder what the point of sexual intercourse even is anymore. Just load up one of those Choose Your Own Adventure Hentai VR fantasies, and fuck the Hamtaros out of a face-swapped Charizard until you feel alive again.
The "South Floridian's Guide To Dating Your Cousin" or Kylie Island dropping that new fetish DLC? You're probably waiting out the future aftermath videos from her now. The kind that can also be achieved by renting a John Deer tractor and filling her with Oxycontin. But where's the chivalry in that?
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.
37 seconds in and two things will become apparent: 1: You have been grossly mislead about the average depth of the female rectum. And 2: The webcam community may want to look into insurance policies before accepting challenges from viewers named "RustyTurntable69"
Breaking traditional workout regimes, NASA-sponsored ejaculations and Skynet inching ever closer to harvesting our organs through the channel of A.I. powered sex transformers. If the next 8 minutes doesn't shine a more positive light on your life, nothing will. I'm here to help.
I can't imagine what life decisions lead to your obituary being littered with the words "twerking" and "public nuisance" and "30,000 volts". But I'm betting it involves the neighbor's parakeet, and all 16 delicious flavors of Rice-a-Roni. (fuck you Rice Pilaf)
