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.
Feast your eyes on a collection of o-faces so outlandish, it would be impossible to get a nut off in public without being caught. Especially if they are a distance shooter. Chances are they'll let loose near an active bus stop and catch one of the locals in the crossfire. It's called "The Cuban Waterslide" and I'm still paying the price for it to this day.
Shane Diesel the type that gotta stand when he poops or his dick floats in the water. His dick so big he can't even go balls deep on these professional cock smugglers without causing serious internal injuries.
4+ minutes of public debauchery so misunderstood, you'll wonder how long it will be until Amber Heard drags them in front of a judge. Especially that duo clapping cheeks arm's length away from the bratwurst dujour around the 0:49 second mark. Just marvelous.
Consider this a 4 minute tutorial on why you should always stay away from those folks that consider a $50.00 Mernard's gift card a form of foreplay. Remember Norman Vincent's words: “Always shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll still land among the hepatitis."
There's just no hiding from your past once you pull the trigger on something like this. Their Ross Store wardrobes will be forever stained. The regret can't be washed off. And the $27 paycheck isn't enough to drink the memories away. #crankthattherapist
An emphasis on cardiovascular workouts and having better grip than David Tyree in the 2008 Superbowl simply wasn't enough to beat the power of experience. Pornographic material that incentivizes you to get educated really is an untapped market. Someone look into that.
It's always the same thing: Your favorite e-piece succumbs to the competition and proceeds to push her stream to the next level... only to deteriorate her street cred faster than my rectal lining at a Bangladeshi farmer's market.
Sorry to all competing rookies out there trying to cover the Vagisil bill: This is the type of content you need to be producing now. Those glory days of not acting like somebody hooked a lawn mower battery to your fallopian tubes to get attention are over. Devon... get the Flex Tape.
You may cringe at the portable cock juicer. You might laugh at Big Foot committing a war crime. You will possibly Door Dash a 7 layer burrito bowl after seeing the sandworm at 0:45 second mark. But one thing's universal: We're all glad self-serving hasn't become a TikTok challenge. Yet.
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.
