Imagine reaching a point in your life where fantasies just aren't doing it for you anymore, so you unleash an even deeper mental illness and create some sort of hybrid, cabbage patch, mother-daughter serial killer, fuck dance home videos and think not hiding your identity is a good idea. This is that point.
A near senile senior citizen has the best day of his life at the expense of aspiring pornstar "Jane Doe", who realizes somewhere after the 2:00 mark, that porn just isn't for her and was never seen again.
A former lesbian is getting fucked in beast mode by professional pornstar cock, and her brain can't even handle it. She cums so hard she sheds happy tears and it's frickin' beautiful.
Not old enough to leave Food Lion with a 6-pack of Bud Light, but she's already carrying a body count that would make a frat house blush? You'd think by the semi-centennial cock that went 1v1 with DM-TrainTrackFace she would've learned to fertilize the backyard. But... nope.
Reminds me of something my grandpa used to say: Your output is only as good as your input. Not since the the trailer for Terminator Dark Fate have I been so disgusted with women over the age of 40.
This is all but guaranteed to eradicate any story you may have been led to believe about how hard it is to interact with an established pornstar. Now the countdown begins until the protein-maxing gym bros discover this one simple trick.
The rules of engagement have changed. If you want attention in 2024, it's going to take a lot more than hangin brain in the checkout line at Hot Topic. So sit back and take notes ladies: It's this kind of work ethic that springboards you from "girlfriend" to "girlwife".
So you think Dr. Phil has covered all the bases of marital disasters? Well it's time to reevaluate bitch. These pioneers of female empowerment do it all. And by all I mean everything except give us the long awaited sequel to Karen's Krapper: Volume 27. Alexa, play Big Bottom by Spinal Tap.
I'm all for testing boundaries, but caution should be advised if you want to attempt any of these yourself. Tip: When testing those Special Team plays you saw online, it's best to practice first. PROOF: The $4500 bill I have for buying this.
Today's visuals couldn't get better if you slammed an Ambien cocktail and hit the boardwalk wearing nothing but a smile and Walmart's finest body spray. Speaking of New Jersey, not even [-carl-] himself would be caught $7 dollars deep in whatever spawned in the last clip.
