For centuries many will wonder - how did he do it? How did one man fit an entire basketball into his anus? Vigorous week-long training sessions? Nah. Optical illusion? Nope. Homosexual superpowers that transform one's rectum into a 4th dimension gateway? I suspect so.
I'm all for testing boundaries, but caution should be advised if you want to attempt any of these yourself. Tip: When testing those Special Team plays you saw online, it's best to practice first. PROOF: The $4500 bill I have for buying this.
If you think one Dutch girl's journey to turn her rectal cavity into affordable housing is where this type of content ends, you would be right. I wish you were right. And that last clip proves you should have been right. I recommend nothing you're about to witness.
Everybody has a gift. For some, it's convincing solid 4's to double up on their bald headed field mice while simultaneously solving a sudoku. For others, it's knitting. But that last girl? Whoever is writing the next Final Destination movie better start taking some fucking notes.
The "South Floridian's Guide To Dating Your Cousin" or Kylie Island dropping that new fetish DLC? You're probably waiting out the future aftermath videos from her now. The kind that can also be achieved by renting a John Deer tractor and filling her with Oxycontin. But where's the chivalry in that?
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]
Is it even possible to bring an oriental female to orgasm without the help of Bob Vila's signature series at this point? I don't know what evolutionary timeline they're living in over there, I can promise you this road only leads to an addiction to Newport cigarettes and a whole lot of apologies.
idk what the fuck is going on in that last clip. But if that isn't the body type of a woman that's muttered the words 'i used dijon mustard as lubricant while losing my virginity to a neighbor's pontiac fiero' at Festivus dinner, idk what is. Now apologize to the laws of thermal dynamics.
Irrationally sized flobberweavels, a urethra that's suffered more abuse than whoever the fuck bought Barstool for $500 mil and the recreation of a classic in glorious high(er) definition. Don't think of this as the balanced breakfast you need, think of it as the one you deserve.
Every so often I come across an individual that makes me ask: How much tarantula fucking middle aged misguided trailer park moonshine did they drink before this became a good idea? It's like someone took Rosie O'Donnell and made it harder to see her naked.
Say hello to your new idol. He's a recent graduate from the WWE school of acting for the mentally challenged and still manages to pull more suburban MILF poon then a 4-starred gynecologist on YELP. This particular desperate housewife is a prime example of why you should always FYD.
