Without looking up their robust discography, I'm going to say there's at least a 275% chance Insane Clown Posse wrote a song about this. Over/under anyone?
Many a question will arise while shuffling through this one, but none more important than whatever comes out of your mouth around the 3:30 mark. Don't worry, you're not alone. I don't fucking know either.
Straight out of a Discord moderator's direct messages, these fractured creatures have found themselves between cringe and cold hard cash. I'm talking a cool $0 payout to do this shit. Not even enough get drugs strong enough to hallucinate back to 2008 when Dashboard Confessional's asshole was relevant.
I gotta say; supreme vag on the redhead. Haven't seen a pair of lips that impressive since the time I got caught with a VHS rip of Fast Times at Ridgemont High and the last jar of Smuckers Sweet Orange Marmalade. Mother's Day hasn't been the same since.
Unfortunately, this video starts after her cavernous butthole swallows the oversized rubber dildo and sucks it deep into her colon. Regardless, rent is due on her Tokyo closet and the show must go on!
This is essentially a hybrid of THIS video + THIS video, or in more comprehensive terms: 3 parts female empowerment, 141 parts bat-shit fucking retarded. ENJOY.
Looks like someone crossbred Rosario Dawson with a howler monkey and gave it rabies. But this isn't for the lulz... more about awareness. You honestly don't even need video for this. The soundtrack alone is enough to keep my Bugle Boy cut-offs on the rinse cycle.
Here's some wisdom I picked up while watching an infomercial for Tony Little's Gazelle Sprintmaster - always maintain good form. Sloppy form is how people get killed. Don't think the same is applicable to sucking dick? Neither did she.
Not exactly the most unexpected chain of events from a class of people that come less prepared for war than whoevers handicap stall I invaded at Waffle House last week. Sorry Wheels, but the bucket in the janitor's closet simply doesn't meet my capacity standard.
There's a thin line between trailer park erotica, and soul-deep emotional trauma. Where that line exists I don't know... but judging by the amount of dollar store tattoos I'm seeing on that body, I'd say this human Hindenburg sure as fuck does.
