If you've ever powered through Fred Durst's 2019 classic "The Fanatic" then nothing will seem out of place. For the other 99.999% of the population: Prepare to be subjected to the kind of cringe Saturday Night Live has been filling their diaper with for the past 2 decades. And tits.
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.
The 4:30 mark will be the breaking point for some of you. Is it real? Will you ever look at BFG Division the same again? Did I free throw one into the sink at Starbucks from the foul line because their stall was locked off this morning? All these questions have the same answer.
A baffling assortment of eccentric freaks so confusing out of place, you'll think you're watching the new Scream movie. There's a time and place for everything... except tag teaming a $1,000 dollar Queen's Blade figurine. That's a permanent no from me dawg.
Don't let the Twitch staff wardrobe and lack of muscle fiber fool you: This army of limp-wristed, mouth-breathing fun-seekers have reached their breaking point and shit just hit the fan water-cooled RTX 3080. Consider this a warning to all women that can fit in a rowboat.
I'm all for testing boundaries, but caution should be advised if you want to attempt any of these yourself. Tip: When testing those Special Team plays you saw online, it's best to practice first. PROOF: The $4500 bill I have for buying this.
There's really nothing more emasculating than getting taunted over your sexual inadequacies, save for maybe your mom walking in on you as you spank it to Robin Williams in Jumanji. The point is... Jumanji is a great movie and unfairly disregarded.
Meet the man whose penis looks more like a belly button with testicles. The man who gives credence to the old adage of "it's just cold outside", in response to why ones cock would be smaller than a vienna sausage.
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.
Today's visuals couldn't get better if you slammed an Ambien cocktail and hit the boardwalk wearing nothing but a smile and Walmart's finest body spray. Speaking of New Jersey, not even [-carl-] himself would be caught $7 dollars deep in whatever spawned in the last clip.
wow, I haven't seen this kind of perplexity since the days of taking my Canadian nickles on tour of the Craigslists escort section. Think you seen confusion? Try paying a "SBBWGFE-OUTCALL" in a foreign currency, then you can talk to me. MORE PARTS: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-]
