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.
Dude at the 2:00 mark must have went as Apocolypto for Halloween in 2006 and forgot to take the costume off, and I have no doubt our Scottish socialite's rectal contractions look like they just graduated a course in sign language. Go ahead and tell me nice guys actually do win again?
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.
A former lesbian is getting fucked in beast mode by professional pornstar cock, and her brain can't even handle it. She cums so hard she sheds happy tears and it's frickin' beautiful.
LIFE LESSON #186: If your poker face is weaker than the walls of Alec Baldwin's rectum - stay the fuck out of the side-chick game. Last time I saw this level of angst in a female, I had to translate "yes, nickles are so a currency" into English for a Sudanese hooker. (thx Alexa)
Round #2 in a series that showcases the authentic side of some of our most interesting citizens. I'm not exactly sure what life choices have to be made to end up here, but it probably has something to do with blue checkmarks and whatever they put in those Impossible burgers.
Some women require foreplay to get off. Others, Little Caesars 5 for $5.00. And then there's Jessica Carrboro aka The Crotch Vampire, who takes no less than a scoop of organic strawberry swirl to get moist. I say this with complete sincerity: You're not ready for her.
More than enough reasons (see: 1) to never "try that thing i saw on the Internet with my girlfriend". Somewhere between the beef bazooka blowouts and frantically Google searching "how to get cat litter out of my vagina" you'll lose that last shred of dignity Dr. Phil is always screeching about.
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 lives somewhere in between "I need to pay taxes" and "The cowboys choked". Three of life's little guarantees.
Scene's over and it's time to go home... but first this starlet has a complete mental unraveling. Her tears and plight do little more than generate awkward lulz and kill the mood for the next girl.
