This one starts out as your typical day in Okinawa, but it looks like there's a tinge of legitimate concern before the credits roll. Guess it's just another one of those unfortunate side effects from engaging with a part of the world that considers mixed martial arts a form of roleplay.
The 70's were a special time in history where no one gave a fuck. Smoking in hospitals, untamed pubes, sexually harassing midgets at the workplace, and faking a cum shot with a limp penis and shampoo? No problem. Nothing was sacred.
Imagine making it to the last clip of this degenerate fever dream and still thinking everything's gonna be alright. We are six (or seven) kinds of fucked if this conduct continues. James Sunderland sends his regards. More of Scene 1 [HERE].
A day that lived in infamy amongst the delivery driver community has finally been given credence from the mouth/vaginal opening that participated in the fabled event. Now imagine a modern version with a hint of [double dashing]. [4] heads would roll. [more here]
Inflation is nearing 9% and you're burning through c-notes so you can Rube Goldberg machine your way into the Guinness Book of Degenerate Orgasms? Someone send this to Dave Ramsey, I want to see him shit his economically priced pants.
Dont let the bandana fool you. This cholo's 'tough guy' persona is about as real as his pleather jacket. Such is illustrated after Gianna does the unforgivable - an unconsensual snowball attack - which he takes like a total bitch. This is funny as fuck.
It's only 10 minutes into the all night sex party and this douche is about to bust his nut after a 30 second blowjob. Not wanting to end the night early, he awkwardly death grips his penis attempting to cease climax.
Well shit, the only other time I've seen someone this determined to self-harm was browsing the /terraluna subreddit. And much like her inability to pass a gonorrhea test, I think it might be time to pack it up and find a safer hobby. Like collecting Pokemon cards, or building hydrogen bombs for example.
What weighs 325 pounds, has hair worse than Phil Spector, and secretly enjoys getting karate-kicked in the appendix while ripping ass? This chick's 798th fuck buddy, and he's not even the worst of the bunch.
What's mine is yours. And what's yours makes her think walking away from that 4-year degree in Anthropological Gender Studies of Amazonian Tree Frogs to do this instead was a bad idea.
Anybody have the technical name for this phenomenon? or a real explanation? Specifically one that doesn't involve voodoo dolls, Penn & Teller or Planet Wing's suicide sauce. I want answers.
