Don't let the Twitch staff wardrobe and lack of muscle fiber fool you: This army of limp-wristed, mouth-breathing fun-seekers have reached their breaking point and shit just hit the fan water-cooled RTX 3080. Consider this a warning to all women that can fit in a rowboat.
Watch as emo Helga Pataki dirty talks Jimmy Noodle Legs during a hot coitus session. Turns out Jenny from Forest Gump isn't the only suicidal girl down for banging immobilized mental midgets.
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.
Blue-balled midgets, schizophrenic autists, Miley Cyrus' fan base... this woman's sexual clientele is more well-rounded than IHOP's farmhouse breakfast. Unfortunately there's no visuals of penetration. But what it lacks in nightmares... it makes up for in California's voting pool.
Of all the story lines you could choose, expedited shipping would be last on my fucking list. Then again, so is paying autistic girls in gift cards to round out your threesome so maybe I don't see the vision. Perhaps decades of inbreeding and limiting toothbrush ownership to 1 per home has carved itself into a niche I can only describe as: Inflation-Friendly Walmart Porn.
The lore actually goes deeper than you could have ever imagined. It's not about the volume of anonymous vagabond cocks. It's not about the money. It's about sending a [fucking] message.
We as humans are at the fuckin' highest point of civilization we've ever achieved. Our technology is more advanced than ever before in history and recently, we put a dildo in orbit... Welcome to the new age.
At first I thought the same as you; What Tim Burton movie did Ice Spice crawl ass backwards out of? Immediately followed by wondering why Sofa "diapers at 23" Weber would subject her own flesh and blood to the [first] dirty donut bulldozing we saw. Evolution is a mystery.
It seems Allie Addison's apprehension levels are at zero, giving her little trouble with broski's maximum depth potential. And by little trouble, I mean the kind of potential organ rearrangement Art The Clown would be proud of.
Kinda off topic, but 8 hrs ago it seemed like a good idea to eat 64 slices of American Cheese and wash it down with a bottle of gin. Then someone had the gall to say Have a good morning to me. Listen mom, unless you have a sewing kit and extensive knowledge of battle wounds, your request is permanently denied.
