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.
I like her face. I like her enthusiasm. But above all I like her devotion to commitment. Her borderline absent reaction to an explosive device detonating inside her spincther however, has reinforced my stance on late-term abortions. Like, 35 years late. Toss a token in the abyss via the source link.
Working the graveyard shift usually sucks Golden Retriever dick, but it's not entirely absent of perks. During my tenure at the 24 hour Rite Aid, I enjoyed a 10% increase in pay and unadulterated access to the ice cream station. But as for complimentary blowjobs from tresspassing prostitutes... that one's all up to this smooth talking Apu.
The Oakland Doorknob. German Knuckle Cake. Mongolian Taco Punching. Not buying Bitcoin when it was 73 cents. It goes by a lotta different names. But the shame... thats always the same.
Two semesters spent shotgunning Bud Light and using the sink as a toilet? No problemo. Thirty five seconds of experienced squabblenecking? Not a fucking chance. Ladies and gentlegenders - I present to you face of higher education.
She pretty much aces the whole 'prostitute on camera' thing except for one small detail: This newbie pornstar's lady cum has a really unique... consistency.
Introducing one of the most ridiculous porn scenes I have ever seen. A man gains the power to make anyone into a magical submissive sex slave and he uses it on his mother and sister. What in the actual fuck?
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.
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.
All I ask is to watch and promise to never replicate. Especially that indoor power washing in the last video. One wrong push and you run the risk of turning the thunderstorm into a full blown shit shower. I call it "the heat seeking carmel farmer" and it's the #3 reason for divorce. Right behind finances and sending an application to Lily Philips.
Got one too many (see: 3) emails about this particular wildebeest seen in Unacceptable Devices VIII, so here's the full[er] version for the special kind of miscreant that prefers to end his No Nutting November with some class.
