It seems Allie Addison's apprehension levels are at zero, giving her little trouble with broski's maximum depth potential. And by little trouble, I mean the kind of potential organ rearrangement Art The Clown would be proud of.
Sonuva bitch... dude's packing the kind of penis that can only be described as "an emergency every time I have to take a piss". Time to call up AARP and find out what size wheelbarrow they're willing to cover for this kind of disability. Something in a dual-wheel polycarbon should do it.
It's almost like as time passes, society has less than a fuck to give about where they burn the midnight salami. Reminds me of the time I was almost caught defecating in a Blockbuster return box in protest to late fees accumulated on Surf Ninjas. [my balance remains due]
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.
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.
Our newest philanthropist has officially crossed the line into perverse territory. Not even his predecessors can claim they've pushed their love of charity this far before. Take 2 showers tonight. Just in case. [ PART I ]
I like her face. I like her enthusiasm. But above all I like her devotion to commitment. Her borderline absent reaction to an explosive device detonating inside her spincther however, has reinforced my stance on late-term abortions. Like, 35 years late. Toss a token in the abyss via the source link.
The "Pepe le Pew" of porn finds out his costar is half an X-men with titanium rods installed on her spin. Woodman's response? An absolute fucking hurricane of verbal and physical assaulting that would make Chris Brown look like Charlie Brown lol.
Today's episode isn't about the money. It's about sending a message. Specifically to the derelicts that have used the Riemann hypothesis and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture to justify paying for what you're about to see: Stop it. Get some help.
See? Not every post here has to be about unsuitable bodily penetrations and the Montana residents that love them. Sometimes you gotta slow down and appreciate women that would charge $99.99 to drop ship you their fart jars. Ask me how I know.
