Not since accidentally walking into an unlocked Vietnamese restaurant bathroom at 2:00AM have I seen such disrespect for the lower half of an oriental female. And just like the rest of the Internet watching this - I am disgusted now. And 30 minutes from now.
Hoe Chi Minh's first time at the fish market goes sour after realizing he should have spent the extra $20 at eros.com before dartboarding the bargain bin. Her defense for smelling like a Portuguese outhouse? LIterally nothing. She carries on like this is part of the girlfriend experience. I fucking laughed.
Watch these little engines that just fucking couldn't get a new hold on reality as S-tier pornstars turn their sexual fantasies into humiliating nightmares.
It truly never ends. Let's just label this one the Shawshank Redemption of "wtf, your load tastes like Alan Greenspan's deceased asshole" Alan probably isn't actually dead, but I trust that the implied mental image is still effective. Game on.
The farther below the equator you go, the crazier behavior you'll find. A novel concept, and one that's officially reinforced by the pair of donut glazers walking the streets like it's fucking fashion week. Just being an observer might give you Hep-C.
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.
wow, I haven't seen this kind of perplexity since the days of taking my Canadian nickles on tour of the Craigslists escort section. Think you seen confusion? Try paying a "SBBWGFE-OUTCALL" in a foreign currency, then you can talk to me. MORE PARTS: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-]
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.
If you've ever powered through Fred Durst's 2019 classic "The Fanatic" then nothing will seem out of place. For the other 99.999% of the population: Prepare to be subjected to the kind of cringe Saturday Night Live has been filling their diaper with for the past 2 decades. And tits.
A special service bulletin for the female viewer(s). Next time you feel like exposing your rotten tator tot to the general public, read a couple chapters of Everything I Know About Women I Learned From My Tractor by Roger Welsch first. Maybe you'll find what's missing in your life.
