You could throw a football in her asshole and hit nothing but net. She has the Mariana Trench of colons and today she's pushing the limits of pornography, breakfast, and ass sphincters all at the same time.
Never have I seen a man do something so incredibly vile with such charm. Where there's tension, he provides laughter. Where there's pain, he provides comfort. And where there's feces on the tip of his penis... he provides dinner.
Becky Bagels foolishly thinks her road trip to the swampland is going to be an uneventful one. That is, until her travel guide delivers the kind of backdoor beatdown that insurance companies are suddenly starting to add in-network coverage for. Many such cases.
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.
200 women, 500 men, an uncountable amount of dollar store tattoos and a dead ex-husband are just the tip of the cuntberg for this self-proclaimed 'human cockroach'. I do have to say though, that vagina is in remarkable condition for a lady that has more mileage than Al Bundy's Dodge Duster. [More Info = HERE]
It's time to tackle a topic that has gone unanswered for far too long. And today we're doing it in such a way that'll leave you questioning both the average tolerance of the female sphincter and who should have really been the final boss of Monster Hunter Wilds. [my vote is cast]
A special WTFM8 @ that last clip. There's a part at the end I had to cut out where our catcher says something along the lines of "that was fun and amazing". No Bruno. Reading from the digestive Necronomicon (white castle menu) before visiting a public pool is fun and amazing. What just happened to you is unforgivable.
Any college girl can pull off a DP, but to pull off near mythical feats of penetration you need a chick that's on a whole other level of promiscuous. Take Malibu Barbie over here, she can't even tell how many cocks are in her at any given time.
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down Milli Vanilli's splash damage was the last fucking thing I had my bingus card. Watching a stranger crack your s/o's purple turkey just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, anytime someone makes middle aged women squeal like a 2 for 1 HomeGoods sale, eyebrows are raised.
There's just no hiding from your past once you pull the trigger on something like this. Their Ross Store wardrobes will be forever stained. The regret can't be washed off. And the $27 paycheck isn't enough to drink the memories away. #crankthattherapist
