So, who's really to blame here? The horse farm that secured their perimeter to keep her away from the livestock, or the guy with 4 Q's in his name that's keeping her on a 1-token drip for the past 4 hours?
Another glaring example of the power of positivity. Maybe off camera she spends all day yappin like her defenses are impenetrable, but 1 goink to the wrinkled copper slot didn't make her hit windows_shutdown.wav and we should be proud of that. Reminds me of another [future diaper diva].
Compliments aren't my strong point, but I must say... chick in the yellow dress is fucking stunning. I'd readily eat Honey Nut Cherrios out of Philip Seymour Hoffman's crusty asshole just for a chance to hold her hand. Someone Russian please hook it up.
The Oakland Doorknob. German Knuckle Cake. Mongolian Taco Punching. Not buying Bitcoin when it was 73 cents. It goes by a lotta different names. But the shame... thats always the same.
Impressive method acting on his part to be honest. He's got that 'my mother, sister and John Deer push mower are all the same person, so I listen to The Black Eyed Peas on vinyl' look down to a science. Unrelated question: Does gonorrhea cancel itself out if you get it twice? Asking for a friend.
A happily married couple is currently pushing the boundaries of amateur porn. They're both jizz fanatics that mix their love of semen with public escapades. I wish I had a friend with a wife like this.
Lulu Love gets an unexpected, unwanted invite to a Turkish bike ride. Likely due to this rectal romeo giving more fucks about where his third supper is coming from than what he's aiming at. In other words: he tried to find da wey and it failed beautifully.
See the thumbnail? Get used to making that face. For you're about to meet a woman with enough human-grade roast beef to end global hunger. I never finished medical school... but it's my professional suggestion she uses the $47.00 paid for this scene to buy a pair of hedge sheers on the way home.
Volume #5 in a collection of videos that Charlie Sheen would be ashamed to attach his name to. And without even a single appearance from a graduate of the Woodman School of Rectology, that's saying something.
Becky Bagels foolishly thinks her road trip to the swampland is going to be an uneventful one. That is, until her travel guide delivers the kind of backdoor beatdown that insurance companies are suddenly starting to add in-network coverage for. Many such cases.
The first 60 seconds of this contains a cluster of words that have absolutely no business being chained together in that order. In fact, in my native language just about every single thing out of her talking hole would be considered a grievance offense. (i speak english)
