You don't have to be a full blown beta to experience this level of salami sloshing. Just find a girl that's sexually attracted to Amibos & the lifetime bans from all major entertainment venues will flow in faster than you can complain about them on Twitter. We may be at the point where the rise of this fetish needs clinical studying.
You clicked the original one so many damn times, I had to dive deeper into her discography. Unfortunately it turns out all her roads lead to this evolutionary cul-de-sac using her as the only form of exercise he's seen since Jock Jams was a thing. Don't look that up. [-PART I-]
You can brag about your triple digit IQ all you want bruh. If you're not using it to turn your asshole into a bowl of Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes it's about as useful as a hot shower is to this classic r-word.
Darrell spent a year talking his wife Nikki into giving swinging a shot. She finally gives in and it does not go to plan. To add insult to injury, the whole humiliating ordeal is captured forever in some shitty pseudo-documentary.
[she] claims her oldest body is somewhere in between "i trade crypto while working at Walmart" and "the first signs of adult onset diabetes" age range. But today that ceiling is getting mashed. Because our boy toothless wouldn't be able to eat them any other way.
What happens when you let your BBC-obsessed husband talk you into the kind of Smackdown WWE would be jealous of? Here's a hint: You end up booking a legendary Iron Man match, but there's no winner.
The unwritten rules of the practicing beta male? #1 Backseating anything related to a bench press #2 Look as much like [JROC] as humanly possible #3 Have the endurance of a geriatric koala. Our boy is batting 3 for 3.
He finally decided it was time to let his wife try fucking a black dude... just once. He even films it so they can look back on this special moment. Good call because half way through he starts getting wet feet about the whole 'stranger fucking my wife' thing.
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.
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.
Looks like someone crossbred Rosario Dawson with a howler monkey and gave it rabies. But this isn't for the lulz... more about awareness. You honestly don't even need video for this. The soundtrack alone is enough to keep my Bugle Boy cut-offs on the rinse cycle.
