Volume #5 in a collection of videos that Charlie Sheen would be ashamed to attach his name to. And without even a single appearance from a graduate of the Woodman School of Rectology, that's saying something.
From his vantage point it probably looks like someone trying to squeeze a flag pole into a gas tank. And much like after someone messes around with flammable substances, someone probably saw hospital time after this little adventure.
Leaking classified information? Mumbling incoherent rants about setting third world countries on fire? Shit, even International Dick Cricket Infestation would have appeared on my list sooner than 1 Tinder gremlin subjecting herself to 31 separate 8-man gangbangs in the fucking barracks. Yet... here we are.
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?
She escaped communist China in search of a better life. Only to find herself in a Detroit warehouse angrily jerking off dudes and giving unhappy endings.
Go ahead and scroll to the 4:30 mark for the feral fitness mom in the thumbnail. And while you're there, stay until 5:56 for a magic trick even Penn & Teller can't fucking explain. I can picture Burger King going into a bidding war with Sonic to buy ad space between the two. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-] [-8-] [-9-] [-10-]
Is this considered 'kink shaming' now? It's easier to adopt Cantonese than trying to keep up with today's TikTok dictionary, so excuse me if it actually is. What I do know is dude's face at the 1:11 mark means the situation is genuinely not bussin.
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.
I gotta say; supreme vag on the redhead. Haven't seen a pair of lips that impressive since the time I got caught with a VHS rip of Fast Times at Ridgemont High and the last jar of Smuckers Sweet Orange Marmalade. Mother's Day hasn't been the same since.
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down two hefty servings of second hand bro snow was not on my bingo card. But it's 2025, so it probably should have been. obv my fault.
