If it wasn't for the guy getting his hot dog caramelized I was going to say society has gotten too soft on sperg-like sex acts that belong behind closed doors or in a WNBA locker room. I expect nothing less from citizens that look like Buc-ee's is their favorite restaurant.
Food Reviewers: Some do it because they found a way to monetize gluttony. Others, just want that sweet mcnugget sponsorship. And then there's Bruce. A man with enough F-tier hate fuck material to earn the Gordon Ramsey seal of approval. Feel free to tweet this video out @WENDY'S. I'd like their input on this.
Like the great Cosmosius of Kramer once said: It's a business of cornhole sodomy, nobody leaves. She's a seductress, she's a siren, she's a virgin, she's a whore. Also, she outlasted my prediction by 5 years. PART 1 HERE.
Bridge piercing, stomach tattoos and the occasional rush to the emergency room for soft tissue damage. May I be so bold to say I haven't seen this level of intensity since The Shining.
Not exactly the most unexpected chain of events from a class of people that come less prepared for war than whoevers handicap stall I invaded at Waffle House last week. Sorry Wheels, but the bucket in the janitor's closet simply doesn't meet my capacity standard.
Brittanya Razavi channels her inner Gordon Ramsay. Kagney Linn Carter puts herself on a list. Pierre Woodman blurs the language barrier for the 900th time this year. And Amai Liu... Well... let's just say we finally have a real threat for Jake Paul. #bookit
Sorry to all competing rookies out there trying to cover the Vagisil bill: This is the type of content you need to be producing now. Those glory days of not acting like somebody hooked a lawn mower battery to your fallopian tubes to get attention are over. Devon... get the Flex Tape.
If this year has taught me anything at all; it's that cabin fever has driven desperate people to the edge. Especially the ones that are no stranger to Walmart gift cards and live on streets that are named after presidents. 2022 is gonna be lit ya'll.
Some real memorable facial expressions in this one. Almost as if she can't believe someone would pay good money to hookup with a person possessing less sexual prowess than a New York City hotdog, and still achieve climax. 4/10; would penetrate again.
Imagine reaching a point in your life where fantasies just aren't doing it for you anymore, so you unleash an even deeper mental illness and create some sort of hybrid, cabbage patch fuck dance home videos and think not hiding your identity is a good idea. This is that point.
Anybody have the technical name for this phenomenon? or a real explanation? Specifically one that doesn't involve voodoo dolls, Penn & Teller or Planet Wing's suicide sauce. I want answers.
