The one and only JSC aka The O.G. Wzard of the Teflon Rectum. Her anal acrobatics set such a standard in the renaissance days of underground porn, you'd almost forget she used her vag recreationally. But in 1998... something magical happened...
Today's edition is chock full of bladder busters, flagrant neighbor abuse and whatever that vegan dinner special was at the end. But what really activated my garbanzo bean is the length some of these fucking gargoyles are willing to go. Take notes ladies: It's this kind of work ethic that transforms you from super walmart to super star.
Let me tell you something people. I've been doing this a long time, maybe even longer then some of you have been alive. And I can honestly say this is the first time I feared a studio would be sued by George Lucas for infringing on his design for the Sarlacc. For the love of fuck, prepare yourself.
Easily the most deplorable attempt at eroticism to ever grace my 11" Amiga computer monitor [this week]. And that's coming from a human being who's seen more than 23 consecutive mins of a Dwayne Johnson movie. My opinion matters.
Every day, everywhere you look people are spamming fears of USD collapse and political discourse. While I'm over here waiting for things like this to start happening in Chipotle parking lots during daytime hours again. #boomer #oldfashioned
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down Milli Vanilli's splash damage was the last fucking thing I had my bingus card. Watching a stranger crack your s/o's purple turkey just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, anytime someone makes middle aged women squeal like a 2 for 1 HomeGoods sale, eyebrows are raised.
All I ask is to watch and promise to never replicate. Especially that indoor power washing in the last video. One wrong push and you run the risk of turning the thunderstorm into a full blown shit shower. I call it "the heat seeking carmel farmer" and it's the #3 reason for divorce. Right behind finances and sending an application to Lily Philips.
Another edition featuring triflin' ass hoes, hood rats of all kinds and a singing crack head with erectile problems. They call him Uncle Jim and he can do any unskilled miscellaneous task for the low-low.
Some men need oral stimulation to get off. Others, a $20 shopping spree at Buffalo Wild Wings. And then there's this Vlad the Impaler lookin' mother fucker who needs nothing more than basic silverware to send his himself over the big-O rainbow. Hint: May be better enjoyed while listening to this classic piece.
Not every one of today's carousel of evolutionary's most gifted were born with the poker face of Clint Eastwood. So when you bare witness to the equivalent of a vaginal SCUD missile, understand it took practice to get here. [more]
Space station sized cock. Peanut of a butthole. Yeah, we've seen this story before but the language barrier almost turns this one into a homicide. Moral of the story: Always identify your opponent before agreeing to fight them. I'm talking to you, Jake Paul victims.
idk what exit strategy the mutant in the last clip is planning on, but this shit doesn't work for me brother. Seriously it's over for you and any unsuspecting Amish person you hire to tailor-make a pair of Fruit of The Looms wide enough to hide that monstrosity from the world.
