Who the fuck comes up with these hybrid fetish flicks? Next time you producers want to get creative, how about coating a machete in Zoloft and fucking Logan Paul up the cornholio until he's smiling like Matt Damon on the cover of Good Will Hunting? Google it.
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.
Zero evidence of her chromosome count, but judging by this performance it's safe to say we're working with a surplus here. Not exactly a stark contrast for this website, but next time I want a female performance to leave me softer than a bowl of cotton candy I'll just turn on Impact Wrestling.
The last clip is one wild ride, and probably cause for another lockdown Japanese style. Imagine spending weeks convincing your corner store cam girl to accept the blindfolded handicap match, only to watch her get sidelined by a dude that gets cease and desist letters from John Carpenter.
I want to admire their passion, but the Jurassic Park remake around the 0:40 second mark is in severe danger of receiving a cease and desist. Discover more reasons to keep that $19.99 in your pocket every month [-HERE-].
If you thought we were going to make it through 3 volumes of woman decorating their reproductive systems with everything that isn't bolted down at Home Goods, and not get a single appearance by the only pornstar that could land a Dyson sponsorship; you thought wrong. And quite frankly, I'm a little disappointed. Also RIP Rowdy Piper.
Not the first time I've seen a girl that got me through those awkward high school years trying to erase her past, but it might be the most indisputable. Silly goose, you can't just replace us with Twitch simps and expect us to forget lol
A socially inept goober gets a job getting jerked off by a hottie and manages to fuck it up, dashing his dreams of porn stardom in the process. It's like the movie Rudy, if Rudy was thrown out the game before ever playing and never scored.
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
Consider this an open letter to the content creators out there: I will donate the $13.75 I made trading Krypto Kittys with down syndrome to a charity of your choosing, in exchange for promising to never use condiments on your wiener ever again. The balls are in your courts.
I bet you $3.50 and the remainder of my orange julius this loathsome creature is a thriving member of the furry community. Also: The one time a video on the Internet isn't fake and this is what you give me?