8 ounces of boner brew emptied directly into the cunt gutter. Classy. Problem is.. when time comes to expel the cream filling, an off-menu item plops out along with it. Camerawoman goes completely mute after realizing wtf she's just filmed. Hilarious.
If there's one thing that never fails to get me questioning the future of this whole human race experiment; it's what the most unassuming person will consider a sexual accessory. So here's about 6 of them. That's right, six. As in the number of times I replayed the noise that Pringles can made when ricocheting off her head.
Hoe Chi Minh's first time at the fish market goes sour after realizing he should have spent the extra $20 at eros.com before dartboarding the bargain bin. Her defense for smelling like a Portuguese outhouse? LIterally nothing. She carries on like this is part of the girlfriend experience. I fucking laughed.
Giantess hand fetishes, assholes sponsored by Nickelodeon Gak and even a sneak preview of Street Fighter 6's in game graphics. This video has more diversity than a community college... but the shame. You can't graduate from that. [PART I]
Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
Do their porno dreams come true? Fuck no. Instead, four average-ass mother fuckers attempt to make sex with the prestigious Christy Mack, and each and every one of them brutally embarrasses themselves.
College level alcoholism and risk seeking behavior has led them to a ratchet motel, wasted off vodka red bulls and making a quick $100 each. Shouldn't be any surprise that these girls never did porn again.
Lulz tier verbal diarrhea from the worlds top experts. It's a good thing emotional scars aren't visible on the outside or some these girls would look like Freddy Kruger.
Not exactly the most unexpected chain of events from a class of people that come less prepared for war than whoevers handicap stall I invaded at Waffle House last week. Sorry Wheels, but the bucket in the janitor's closet simply doesn't meet my capacity standard.
Breaking traditional workout regimes, NASA-sponsored ejaculations and Skynet inching ever closer to harvesting our organs through the channel of A.I. powered sex transformers. If the next 8 minutes doesn't shine a more positive light on your life, nothing will. I'm here to help.
