Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
hmm, strange. Here I am thinking the whole "i'm training to turn my uterus into a parking garage for hellcats" was no longer a lucrative financial path worth pursuing. And then the last girl went ahead proved me wrong.
Many a question will arise while shuffling through this one, but none more important than whatever comes out of your mouth around the 3:30 mark. Don't worry, you're not alone. I don't fucking know either.
I've seen some detestable shit during my tenure on the Internet. Hungarian equine mating rituals. 3 minutes of Concord gameplay footage. People thinking a P.T. Cruiser has resale value. But this? This confirmed the whole human race experiment failed.
Trying to convince your wife to participate in what can only be described as gathering of the juggalos that serves pasta salad? Bold. But her response? Giggling like she found an extra tender in her 4-piece. Relationships shlamationships.
Based on a true story about a peanut butter sandwich, the dangers of masturbating, and how Aunt Opal made her nephew a man. A man with issues needing life long therapy, but a man none the less.
New fetish unlocked at the 2:35 mark: Wearing your friends fish purses like a pair of Jimmy Choo platforms. Except in this version you don't have to cough up a mortgage payment on 5th avenue before getting ankle deep in fashion week. Bargain of the century. [more: Y809Y]
A look back at a camgirl addiction so extreme, it cost Grant Amato hundreds of thousands of dollars, the trust of his family members and a lifetime prison sentence. It's basically the modern day Romeo and Juliet.
