Not since the 2005 release of 1 Night In Chyna have I seen a woman with such a fucked up misunderstanding of eroticism. She grunts like pirate, pisses all over the place, and has a finishing act that'll assfuck your brain cells.
Who the fuck comes up with these hybrid fetish flicks? Next time you producers want to get creative, how about coating a machete in Zoloft and fucking Logan Paul up the cornholio until he's smiling like Matt Damon on the cover of Good Will Hunting? Google it.
She's got the looks, she's got the body and she definitely has the talent. She can also use her vagina to keep your subs warm and hang a coat. Now she's stealing our hearts. Duck Tales. A woo ooh.
If there's a book out there on what NOT to do during intercourse, I'd say this dude just paved the way for a fucking trilogy. Nevermind his Rosie O'Donnell-like figure, or his unsettling fetish for floppy disks. The real prize is at the 2.48 mark. Ladies and gentleman, this motherfucker just single-handedly brought back Planking.
Mobilized midgets, successfully executed autocunnilngus and the recreation of a sexual maneuver that put Okinawa on the map. It's safe to say this hodgepodge of misfits is more well rounded than a Golden Corral dinner special. Want more? PARTS: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-]
3:40 is today's highlight. The fact that this behavior generates sustainable income blows my mind. Imagine taking one of those suburban mass shooter interrogation videos and crossbreeding it with Pepto Bismol. Then masturbate with steel wool cause that's the pain I feel watching.
Irrationally sized flobberweavels, a urethra that's suffered more abuse than whoever the fuck bought Barstool for $500 mil and the recreation of a classic in glorious high(er) definition. Don't think of this as the balanced breakfast you need, think of it as the one you deserve.
Ya know for a girl that's spent this much time in tattoo parlors, you'd think a forehead big enough for UBER to charge $17 to go from nose to scalp would get a little bit more attention. Then again, something tells me rational thinking isn't one of the tenants of someone who writes "when I fuck i dont give a fuck" 6 inches away from their shitter.
Another edition featuring triflin' ass hoes, hood rats of all kinds and a singing crack head with erectile problems. They call him Uncle Jim and he can do any unskilled miscellaneous task for the low-low.
