What happens when modern technology moves too quickly for humans to predict the next catastrophe? Porn. The answer is and always will be porn. Today's flavor is what might as well be an alpha version of Skynet attempting to end human population via suicidal gooning. We're fucked.
What in the cornbread skidmark hell is going on with this generation? Once upon a time having the genetic configuration of a Madagascar tomato frog would limit your partners to Walmart shoppers. Now? No one even pumps the brakes. Support [HERE] [HERE] and [HERE]
Moscow drug mule gets into a personal world war with her own rectum, most likely the result of an all kholodets diet (look it up). Jiggy Saw himself once said: "When there's that much poison in your blood, the only thing left to do, is shoot yourself." In other words; She attempted to no-scope and succeeded beautifully.
At first I was positive this was the same woman that keeps invading my Instagram feed with videos about blowing circus clowns and publicly shaming herself for having the vaginal odor of a Sudanese outhouse. But her (un)puckered starburst having the towing capacity of a Dodge Ram 3500 proved otherwise.
Consider this the advanced users only section of the Internet. And nothing spells T-A-C-T-I-C-A-L A-D-V-A-N-T-A-G-E quite like a woman that could literally use a Volkswagen Golf as a dildo. If you're not into safe spaces being invaded... this one isn't for you.
Today we learn three crucial things, so grab your colored pencils and pay attention: #1: Voyeurism is alive and well #2: Sexual misconduct is always negotiable. And #3: Lifetime bans from Macy's aren't a big deal. Lets get it.
Of all the story lines you could choose, expedited shipping would be last on my fucking list. Then again, so is paying autistic girls in gift cards to round out your threesome so maybe I don't see the vision. Perhaps decades of inbreeding and limiting toothbrush ownership to 1 per home has carved itself into a niche I can only describe as: Inflation-Friendly Walmart Porn.
Tori Spelling's Guatemalan tit job, the hole in a Walmart bathroom stall and discounted Hamburger Helper on Craigslist: Three things I'd touch before signing up for story time from Rebel "my brain is bigger than my butthole" Lynn ever fucking again.
Did flashing interns at the local 7-11 becoming a challenge or something? Apparently this miscreant prefers the orifices less traveled. Specifically the ones small enough to give Tiger Woods anxiety attacks. C-L-A-S-S-Y.
And by experience, I mean one man blowing up his beer money on the kind of sexual endeavor that would shell shock a Vietnam war veteran. Speaking of blowing up: The only thing missing from that slaughter house between her legs is someone in the background screaming wUrLstAr and Floyd Mayweather coming out of retirement to fight it.
free tip: Don't be fooled by the "i collect exotic toothpastes and I'm saving my g-spot for Sonic the Hedgehog" appearance. She may appear to be innocent, but this is no sex noob. Despite leaking more soft serve than a birthday party at Carvel, she actually did finish the scene.
Trying to convince your wife to participate in what can only be described as gathering of the juggalos that serves pasta salad? Bold. But her response? Giggling like she found an extra tender in her 4-piece. Relationships shlamationships.
