This girl has an emotional breakdown immediately following a facial. I initially assumed the obvious - dude must love his jumbo asparagus. But upon a 2nd viewing, I spotted a wedding band on the left hand. This is the part where I'm supposed to call her a slut. Personally, I'd rather just comfort her and smell her butt. I'm romantic like that.
To find a man truly worthy of this title we must dig deep into the early days of internet pornography. A time when potato quality was top notch and only took 2 hours to download.
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.
If any of you ever want to launch one of those "Top 10 Ways to Make a Girl Break up With You" kind of blogs, make sure some of these specimens are on the list. Somewhere in between Fortnite themed flip flops, and listening to Ed Sheeran.
Sonuva bitch... dude's packing the kind of penis that can only be described as "an emergency every time I have to take a piss". Time to call up AARP and find out what size wheelbarrow they're willing to cover for this kind of disability. Something in a dual-wheel polycarbon should do it.
These awful pornographic gems were all attempted with eroticism as a goal. I.E. People were somehow meant to masturbate to this shit, but what these clips lack in fap value they make up for with lulz.
Homing in on the 10-clip anniversary of offensive sexual acts among a global pandemic, and yet I remain hopeful. I mean hopeful that people in quarantine will continue to produce more reprehensible content than a Harvey Weinstein video library, not the Covid stuff - we're fucked. Like the guy in the first clip: Fap until it goes dark.
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.
Space station sized cock. Peanut of a butthole. Yeah, we've seen this story before but the language barrier almost turns this one into a homicide. Moral of the story: Always identify your opponent before agreeing to fight them. I'm talking to you, Jake Paul victims.
Nothing says reinventing a franchise quite like admitting to the world that you have a fetish even the truckers of America aren't paying for in Walmart parking lots. Now give this so many views, The Rock won't be able to turn down being in the sequel.
Our boy successfully pulls off one of the audibles taught in Bang: More Lays in 60 Days, but the tables quickly turn on him. From then on it's a battle of egos as this greenhorn frolics through her first rear admiral'ing like it's a full body massage. There won't be a sequel.
What happens when a [rookie] with 2 months of experience attempts to power through a fetish shoot? Smiles fade. Excitement disappears. But the cattle prod PTSD? That goes deeper than Goldberg losing the world title to Kevin Nash on December 27, 1998 at Starrcade.
