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.
First-timer foolishly assumes her debut appearance is going to be a walk in the park. Emphases on the word walk, because it looks like all her future tours of Italy at Olive Garden are going to be wheelchair accessible from this point forward. What in the fuck...
Behind the scenes of a classy title like "Lesbian Bukkake #8" is something like you could never imagine. Ever wonder what it's like behind the scenes? Probably not, but sometimes these thots fail in epic fashion and it's hilarious.
Another edition of "anal goes wrong", featuring the perforation of a fuckable milf's blown out colon. The city of love probably hasn't seen this much blood since someone made some cartoons last year.
4+ minutes of public debauchery so misunderstood, you'll wonder how long it will be until Amber Heard drags them in front of a judge. Especially that duo clapping cheeks arm's length away from the bratwurst dujour around the 0:49 second mark. Just marvelous.
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.
Although this scene of Gianna Micheals finger banging herself had to be cut short after only 4 mins, Gianna proves once again how badass she is and just finishes the scene best she can.
I never understood it. The idea of penetrating a chain-smoking ex-con bus driver with 2 blob fish bolted to her chest may work for some of you jabronis in the western world - but not me. I have standards.
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
Somebody in the original comments was yappin about no proof this is his first time. My main man; 3 seconds of glazing over this specimen's choice in facial hair, vocabulary and thinking CPR is a form a cunnilingus says otherwise. Peep another awkward rookie [here].
