2004: Facebook launches for the first time, Ashlee Simpson jigged her way into irrelevancy and this jovial mother fucker was using his power of aspergers to give second stringers a reason to show up on set. Half girth, half Pokemon.
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.
Her claim to fame is deplorable... but when the clothes come off her barbarian hips look like they can survive giving birth to Danny Devito and it's fuckin' beautiful. 5/5 Yelp stars, would eat again.
Derpina gets the last remaining brain cell sloshed out of her in a way even David Attenborough himself would struggle to provide commentary for. The facial reactions, the irreparable staining of Amazon fabrics, the autism. It truly is thrilling cinema.
You could throw a football in her asshole and hit nothing but net. She has the Mariana Trench of colons and today she's pushing the limits of pornography, breakfast, and ass sphincters all at the same time.
Welcome to the far east, a place where vaginas are never shaved but always multi purpose. A place where a nice business man can get a sake and light a cigar off a strippers vagina. Fun times.
Enter the strange world of MyFreeCams. Where internet prostitutes webcam models do weird shit for cyber money, like sexually teasing the local pizza delivery guy. What could go wrong?
23 years of positive thinking and rectal (in)tolerance have manifested themselves in a mint condition 2024 episode of live webcam failures, goofs and all around chucklefuck situations that probably didn't transpire as originally expected. gnomesayin?
I've actually seen [this girl] before, but never getting ragdolled like Jeff Bezo's disposable income. Maybe when she's done finding herself, she can sign up for a safer hobby. Like glassblowing. Or teaching mountain lions yoga, for example.
If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
