What's hung like a Clydesdale and knows less words than a Pokemon? He's known simply as Vlad, and 37 states require a permit to walk around with that fucking thing in public.
Nothing says alphachad like asserting dominance over affordable footwear. Special shoutout to Elon's protege's in the 2nd to last clip. Some go electric to save the planet. Others, to tell oil to fuck off. And then there's Winona Wonderpuss: Who needs to be one faulty sensor away from getting a steering wheel colonoscopy to reach her maximum cum-face. #respect
There's just no hiding from your past once you pull the trigger on something like this. Their Ross Store wardrobes will be forever stained. The regret can't be washed off. And the $27 paycheck isn't enough to drink the memories away. #crankthattherapist
Kinda want to emphasize those gravity bags reaching maximum velocity around the 5:00 minute mark. Jell-o has spent over 100 years trying to market physics like this and have failed miserably in comparison. Turns out all you need is a 1-bedroom apartment in Latvia and a c-section scar to make math fun again.
It seems Allie Addison's apprehension levels are at zero, giving her little trouble with broski's maximum depth potential. And by little trouble, I mean the kind of potential organ rearrangement Art The Clown would be proud of.
A pair of seasoned rectal specialists agree to shoot a scene with a girl less experienced in butt fuckery than an Amish housewife. Points for trying to stick it out until the end, but let me tell you; It's all fun and games until Fransisco & Co. are face-to-ass with last night's carne asada.
Someone somewhere thought it would be really great to make a 70 minute porn film set in the Victorian era about a guy with a dick for a nose. Today we honor men like that and the amazing master-pieces of shit they produce.
Shane Diesel the type that gotta stand when he poops or his dick floats in the water. His dick so big he can't even go balls deep on these professional cock smugglers without causing serious internal injuries.
The farther below the equator you go, the crazier behavior you'll find. A novel concept, and one that's officially reinforced by the pair of donut glazers walking the streets like it's fucking fashion week. Just being an observer might give you Hep-C.
Imagine making it to the last clip of this degenerate fever dream and still thinking everything's gonna be alright. We are six (or seven) kinds of fucked if this conduct continues. James Sunderland sends his regards. More of Scene 1 [HERE].
