Compliments aren't my strong point, but I must say... chick in the yellow dress is fucking stunning. I'd readily eat Honey Nut Cherrios out of Philip Seymour Hoffman's crusty asshole just for a chance to hold her hand. Someone Russian please hook it up.
Never before have I seen men do something so disrespectful with such finesse. Where there's shame, they show confidence. Where there's shock, they bring warmth. And where there's romance, well... they really don't give a flying fuck.
So, who's really to blame here? The horse farm that secured their perimeter to keep her away from the livestock, or the guy with 4 Q's in his name that's keeping her on a 1-token drip for the past 4 hours?
The upside to being treated like the exhaust pipe of a Chevrolet El Dorado? Literally nothing. All you have to do is breath and the alpha male fantasy fan fiction will magnetize to you like a herpes outbreak at a Playboi Carti concert.
It seems Allie Addison's apprehension levels are at zero, giving her little trouble with broski's maximum depth potential. And by little trouble, I mean the kind of potential organ rearrangement Art The Clown would be proud of.
Only so many things could explain such a bizarre video. I assume the lead male or the director was on drugs, but most likely everyone on set had to be on something.
Behind the scenes of a classy title like "Lesbian Bukkake #8" is something like you could never imagine. Ever wonder what it's like behind the scenes? Probably not, but sometimes these thots fail in epic fashion and it's hilarious.
Got one too many (see: 3) emails about this particular wildebeest seen in Unacceptable Devices VIII, so here's the full[er] version for the special kind of miscreant that prefers to end his No Nutting November with some class.
Do I even need to release a service bulletin at this point? Ladies; Next time you feel like exploring your options, put in about 18 seconds of research and mAniFeSt what you're about to get into. Maybe then you'll discover something you all lack - coherence motherfuckers.
Two semesters spent shotgunning Bud Light and using the sink as a toilet? No problemo. Thirty five seconds of experienced squabblenecking? Not a fucking chance. Ladies and gentlegenders - I present to you face of higher education.
