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.
Commit to a blind date in the state of Florida, and I'd say you got about a 98% chance of matching up with a person that dispenses more threatening fluids than a Mountain Dew vending machine. And today my friends, you're gonna learn that the hard way.
Deep in the dungeon of KINK studios, they have accidentally unleashed a monster. A sweet girl that finds vaginal sex super boring and only gets off from evil butt sex.
It truly never ends. Let's just label this one the Shawshank Redemption of "wtf, your load tastes like Alan Greenspan's deceased asshole" Alan probably isn't actually dead, but I trust that the implied mental image is still effective. Game on.
Great body. Classic look. Even has the courtesy to scrub daddy her dirty walnut before doing the coney island cha cha. There were definitely a couple moments of genuine concern on her face, but now you know why wedding rings exist. [song]
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.
After seeing so many of these situations, sometimes I find myself asking; "Surely this is a planted setup?" I simply refuse to believe anomalies this brazen would be shown less audible disgust than someone being told the McFlurry machine is broken when they get noticed.
The first 60 seconds of this contains a cluster of words that have absolutely no business being chained together in that order. In fact, in my native language just about every single thing out of her talking hole would be considered a grievance offense. (i speak english)
What's hung like a Clydesdale and knows less words than a Pokemon? He's known simply as Vlad, and 37 states require a permit to walk around with that fucking thing in public.
Introducing yet another gaggle of Jerkmate's B-squad. Fresh off the bench and filled to the brim with asparagus and dollar store beer. Judging by some of these reactions one has to think the aroma they perspire is akin to the cellar of a Pakistani bath house.
Undoubtedly the most erotic thing I've seen since responding to an OKCupid message from a girl named The Violator. Results were similar if you replace 'cumshot' with 'Hellmans Tartar Sauce'. And 'private affair' with 'Burger King during rush hour'.