I honestly thought she was faking/farming interaction up until the middle of this. After that her reactions are priceless. Particularly the "i think there's a pack of wallabys gnawing the inside of my sphincter" look that is persistently peppered within this fever dream. Find her live [here]
idk what the fuck is going on in that last clip. But if that isn't the body type of a woman that's muttered the words 'i used dijon mustard as lubricant while losing my virginity to a neighbor's pontiac fiero' at Festivus dinner, idk what is. Now apologize to the laws of thermal dynamics.
Playstation One-levels of animation and someones first experience with Windows Movie Maker goes horribly... right? In other words, I only ejaculated twice. And that's coming from a man whos seen Sarah Silverman naked. My voice matters.
Ahh, the beautiful girls that fap for internet money. It's a stressful job full of internet chat trolls and dildos that need a power outlet. Understandably they can sometimes freak out a bit.
It may not be explicitly written in the rule book, but there's only one translation for the body language on the girl going Milli Vanilli on herself. And it exists somewhere in between "Car Batteries Are Not Sex Toys" and "Oops My Asshole Fell Out".
Todays menu: a.) girl manipulates dad into oral sex while mom contemplates suicide b.) leper fucks ass, leper's winky gets decapitated, leper continues to fuck ass anyway and c.) vintage porn, never fuck with a man that's just lost a game of Old Maid.
Prozac-deficient e-girls are a welcomed sight here at eFukt... but this post isn't about the daddy issues. It's about intensity. These temper tantrums cut deeper than a Twitter feed, and while that might not be saying much, I'm confident you'll be impressed.
Bob is the type of dude that wears gas station sunglasses indoors and shouts "WOOOO" when excited. Bob has also finally gathered the $315 necessary to fulfill a life long fantasy of his, AKA "The Most Fail Interracial Porn In History".
If you thought we were going to make it through 3 volumes of woman decorating their reproductive systems with everything that isn't bolted down at Home Goods, and not get a single appearance by the only pornstar that could land a Dyson sponsorship; you thought wrong. And quite frankly, I'm a little disappointed. Also RIP Rowdy Piper.
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.
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?
