You can brag about your male pattern baldness all you want homeboy. But if you're not turning all vaginas within a 3 mile distance into your own personal bowl of Hungry Jack Mashed Potatoes, are you even living the Costanza?
Round 2 for the most depraved, fatherless clout-chasers on the Internet as we know it today today. I'm talking about real deal independent women here. The kind that pay for their birth control with subscriber money. [Part 1]
These porn producers, always so preoccupied with if they could, but never stopping to wonder if they should. I can't even imagine how awkward this scene must of been to film for everyone involved.
Go ahead and scroll to the 4:30 mark for the feral fitness mom in the thumbnail. And while you're there, stay until 5:56 for a magic trick even Penn & Teller can't fucking explain. I can picture Burger King going into a bidding war with Sonic to buy ad space between the two. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-] [-8-] [-9-] [-10-]
Bittersweet painal, obscenity-filled ogasms, and a boob job pre-dating the birth of jesus. This ones got it all, and Ms. Big Ole Leathery Funbags earns some serious bonus points at the 2:35 mark.. Not even a fuckin rectal injury can dull her desire for ATM.
Meet Melody: A 33% shareholder in the trio of Italian incest freaks known as DollsCult. Apparently in between marathoning episodes of Metaloclypse and getting death threats for wiping their genitals all over public property - they actively participate in community service. #getamop
Two things you should definitely abandon before agreeing to have sex with total strangers: Self-respect and Beef-a-roni. One of these is more important than the other, and I'm just gonna let you figure out what order they should be in.
I've sat through 8 billion brother fucker incest storylines, the desecration of an icon and whatever the fuck this is. That being said, it's comforting to know I can still find astonishment in the super weeb fever dream you're about to witness. Good luck.
It's r/cringetopia levels of situations like this that really make adult filmography great again. If it wasn't for stellar performances like the ones you're about to witness, we would never know what it's like to live in West Virginia without having to marry out cousins first.
Pairing a guy that looks like he spends the weekend trading anti-lesbian meatloaf recipes over AOL chatrooms, with a girl that gets so purple she should be asking "where's Ronald?" doesn't seem like a contender for documentary of the year. But then you hear who's narrating it.
