Poor prosti gets sandbagged by a local gentleman who's only sexual experience involves Walmart's checkout line & Colt 45. But apparently her dugout is built for the major leagues, cause despite his John McLane ingenuity... she still walks away with a smile. Fucking amazing.
The insane story of an emotionally disabled prostitute/pornstar/sugar baby/urinal-for-hire with HPV and herpes that literally wrote the book - 9 times. She claims her dead sugar daddy made her a millionaire and now haunts her... wow.
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.
This dude ejaculates Grey Poupon. Straight up. It's the most bedazzling shit I've seen since that picture of Mike Tyson appearing on a dog's asshole. Be sure to keep a towel handy in case you vomit and/or nut.
There's only two people on Earth that should never be caught fishing for brown trouts: Lindsay Lohan in her 'i'll snort Tide Pods' phase, and this chick. She's 19, anti-semen and dumber than a mailbox on Sunday. In other words: she was BORN for eFukt.
Here’s another horrifying example of simp culture; The pussification of the hopeless male in the form of extracurricular CBT. What the fuck is going on here? Ogling strange women at the tune of a months worth of paychecks used to be a respectable form of entertainment. Now? Its just another girl boss moment.
One indisputable fact of life: Crossbreeding Arnold Schwarzenegger with anything will instantly improve it in every way. Even an extraordinarily overhyped meme girl that surprisingly, hasn't made me want to pull my third ball off (yet). Here's to those 15 minutes lasting another 5. PARTS: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-]
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.
The lore actually goes deeper than you could have ever imagined. It's not about the volume of anonymous vagabond cocks. It's not about the money. It's about sending a [fucking] message.
This one starts out as your typical day in Okinawa, but it looks like there's a tinge of legitimate concern before the credits roll. Guess it's just another one of those unfortunate side effects from engaging with a part of the world that considers mixed martial arts a form of roleplay.
If you we're an emotionally messed up prostitute, I'm sure you would fucking hate talking about your life too. But would you hate it more then sucking the dick of a self-titled "crack whore connoisseur"? More crazy in the source link.
