Nothing here but people willing to be treated like the bed liner of Ford F-150 with 8 digits on the clock. Some even goes as far as to request moar dick. Complimentary forewarning: Any further into those monkey biscuits & this will technically be classified as a medical procedure.
Go ahead and label this the blurring of lines between equality in the work place and PTSD, as illustrated by sex acts that have led more adult diaper sales than In n' Out's Animal Style. Never before has adult entertainment made me prouder of my cataclysmic cache of Walmart rewards points.
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.
Three years later and it seems [our boy] has ditched the mashed potatoes recipe and moved on to crafting a signature carne asada. ¿Felicidades mi amigo?
A jackass inspired stunt gone sexual ends very badly for the LoL platinum player responsible for conceiving such an act of genius. Luckily our hero isn't concerned with things like dignity, human contact or a fully functioning penis.
A truly beautiful ballad about a girl that makes pterodactyl sex noises and a man that pulls off one of the most amazing sexual achievements ever filmed. I think we all wish we had a little Jimmy in us.
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down Milli Vanilli's splash damage was the last fucking thing I had my bingus card. Watching a stranger crack your s/o's purple turkey just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, anytime someone makes middle aged women squeal like a 2 for 1 HomeGoods sale, eyebrows are raised.
Say hello to your new idol. He's a recent graduate from the WWE school of acting for the mentally challenged and still manages to pull more suburban MILF poon then a 4-starred gynecologist on YELP. This particular desperate housewife is a prime example of why you should always FYD.
See that rush of fear around the 3:00 mark? That's the kind of reaction second only to a man that has miscalculated his maximum capacity for P.F. Changs Orange Chicken in a public venue. And I think that's something we can all relate to. L, OH, fuckin L
