If you we're an emotionally messed up prostitute, I'm sure you would fucking hate talking about your life too. But would you hate it more then sucking the dick of a self-titled "crack whore connoisseur"? More crazy in the source link.
Here it is: The grand finale in a long line of degenerates who value their integrity less than that chicken sandwich everyone is getting german suplexed over. Especially the last clip. I haven't seen determination like that since the Epstein Didn't Kill Himself meme.
It's that time of year again. When degenerate girls jacked to the tits in daddy issues insist on doing it for tha gram but end up frail, fucked and forgotten. Not since the days of blindly acquiring porn ala 5600 baud Limewire have I come across a female with such anti-seminal fortitude.
Long before there was "help me stepbro!", there was "have you ever seen your mom naked?". The difference? People wouldn't (normally) contaminate a box of Kleenex's finest to radio shows. Social media was and still is our biggest evolutionary mistake.
Epic poker face @ .57 mark. I call this one the 'i totally just nutted in my own mouth but i dont even give a fuck cause i have a 6.7 inch penis and listen to Rage Against The Machine on vinyl' look. Dude's got that shit mastered.
An assembly of miscreants that may remind you of old Internet when people did everything imaginable for nothing more than access to a bottomless keg. Twitter didn't exist, OnlyFans wasn't a thought. It was just degens on the hunt for their next case of rabid vaginitis. [more]
College level alcoholism and risk seeking behavior has led them to a ratchet motel, wasted off vodka red bulls and making a quick $100 each. Shouldn't be any surprise that these girls never did porn again.
Today's lessons: Little Dicky is a literal name (4:21), Tourism is still alive and well (0:11) and statistically speaking, this is the least likely way to acquire an STD in public. Trust me, I've seen 3 full episodes of House M.D.
The upside to being treated like the exhaust pipe of a Chevrolet El Dorado? Literally nothing. All you have to do is breath and the alpha male fantasy fan fiction will magnetize to you like a herpes outbreak at a Playboi Carti concert.
Imagine reaching a point in your life where fantasies just aren't doing it for you anymore, so you unleash an even deeper mental illness and create some sort of hybrid, cabbage patch fuck dance home videos and think not hiding your identity is a good idea. This is that point.
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.
