Of all the ways to "tELL mE uR fRoM nEw jErSeY wiThOuT tELLinG mE uR fRoM nEw jErsEy" this actually ranks #2 on the list. Our duo is still 1 deep fried oreo enema away from the gold medal. Shoot for the stars.
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.
30 seconds in and two things will become apparent: 1) You've been grossly mislead about Nebraska's tourism attractions. And 2) At least 50% of the people who seek these videos out individually, have ejaculated to the Nordstrom catalogue. Home decor section.
I don't know what the fuck this thing is, but I'm pretty sure it's sentient and has enough work done to require an oil change every 3000 miles. Further proof that Elon Musk is the future.
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.
Losing an 8 inch dildo in in a girls ass can have some consequences beyond fecal flavoring. If you can't get it out, the shoot is over and it's an awkward trip to the hospital with an unhappy porn star.
Local vagrant takes us on a journey that blurs the line between southern cooking and female independence, as illustrated by a sex act that's led to more infections than a Marilyn Manson concert. Never before has adult entertainment made me prouder of my KFC rewards points.
I want to admire their passion, but the Jurassic Park remake around the 0:40 second mark is in severe danger of receiving a cease and desist. Discover more reasons to keep that $19.99 in your pocket every month [-HERE-].
Don't let the plot line(s) fool you. This goofball's bloodline persona is about as real as KFC's employee hand-washing policy. Such as illustrated after her 'brothers' attempt at fucking the hippie out of her. Possibly produced by the Coen brothers.
Perhaps 'audible' is the wrong word to use here, as it suggests this misfit anticipated the scene going any other possible way. She didn't. Trust me. I've been inside a Walmart parking lot on a Friday night - I know what I'm talking about.
