Ya know, I've always wondered what kind of standard the director of these JAVsterpieces are looking for when filming this bullshit. Like if the floater doesn't reach max buoyancy during the first take, does the entire production have to shutdown so "Shart Girl #2" can hit up catering to fill up on cabbage? The west may never know. #SP-672
Great box. Decent tits. But fall into whatever wet dream they paid her $47.00 to roleplay in here and you'll be left with a ball bag more shriveled than Iggy Pop. It's a sexual combination that doesn't seem to concern these freaks. Big Cringe = Big Dollas. And Big Dollas = Unlimited Crest White Strips. You'll see.
Consider this a 4 minute tutorial on why you should always stay away from those folks that consider a $50.00 Mernard's gift card a form of foreplay. Remember Norman Vincent's words: “Always shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll still land among the hepatitis."
1 part Disney movie, 2 parts Carole Baskins. That was the plan up until Zazu used all of his Rosetta Stone credits on the Jack Sparrow of punani tsunamis. The result is an unexpected comedy duo, the likes of Seth Rogan would be hired to voice-over in the theatrical release. Why are the most important discoveries in life accidental?
The real hero of today's adventure should be whatever surgeon sews that bag of expired beef back together in the last clip. It seems learning how to be a boxer through YouTube videos with a language barrier has consequences. More [here]
There's just no going back after making a video like this. She'll be forever known as the degenerate that got famous for rawdogging a South Park character. She's essentially a walking, talking Twitter activist for borderless sexuality... and yet stays in semi-boner material territory. An enigma, if you will.
Between the carnivorous instructions that might actually devolve human beings and whatever the fuck ancient language was trying to leak out of the guy in the last clip, I think it's safe to say we have some form of a predicament in our education system.
I've never liked golf... or any sports for that matter. I don't see the point of putting balls in holes for points 'n shit, but when the goals have been replaced with holes, you have earned my attention.
All kinds of fucking disturbance going on here, but the girl hyper gooning next to the 3rd editions of Goosebumps soft covers should probably get an award or an all-expenses paid trip to the Vagisil aisle at her local RiteAid or something. Those carpets look filthy.
If you think that number is talking about hog dimensions, you will be sorely mistaken. It seems this attraction has stricter height limitations than Six Flag's El Toro. You gotta measure less than 4 feet tall, well-versed in THOTology and be next in line for a fight with Jake Paul. Brutal. Part 1 [HERE] Part 2 [HERE] Support [HERE]
Many a question will arise while shuffling through this one, but none more important than whatever comes out of your mouth around the 3:30 mark. Don't worry, you're not alone. I don't fucking know either.
Alright fellas, [-take a memo on your Newton-]: If girls aren't flocking to your Levi's like 1 star reviews to the newest Disney remake, then this might be in your future. Just keep track of those subscription fees so reality doesn't hit harder than 1996 did to Robert Downey Jr.
