Her claim to fame is deplorable... but when the clothes come off her barbarian hips look like they can survive giving birth to Danny Devito and it's fuckin' beautiful. 5/5 Yelp stars, would eat again.
Based on a true story about a peanut butter sandwich, the dangers of masturbating, and how Aunt Opal made her nephew a man. A man with issues needing life long therapy, but a man none the less.
You know you had fun when the next day you wake up with a concussion and realize you not only left your phone, but you also forgot your clothes, underwear, sunglasses and self-respect at the club.
Impressive method acting on his part to be honest. He's got that 'my mother, sister and John Deer push mower are all the same person, so I listen to The Black Eyed Peas on vinyl' look down to a science. Unrelated question: Does gonorrhea cancel itself out if you get it twice? Asking for a friend.
Not the caliber of female I expected to see on the angry side of Simon Belmont, but I'll roll with the fantasy. Unfortunately there's no aftermath footage, but I would have to imagine by the time this was over it looked like she masturbated with a stick of dynamite.
The 70's were a special time in history where no one gave a fuck. Smoking in hospitals, untamed pubes, sexually harassing midgets at the workplace, and faking a cum shot with a limp penis and shampoo? No problem. Nothing was sacred.
This is what happens when you allow incels to explore live environments. Safe spaces are invaded, genitals get exposed - all because some guy who thinks Ethereum will be the world's currency couldn't get his weiner wet at the last box social and is now living a revenge fantasy.
In the bowels of Brazil a.k.a. the other other Mexico, a local stripper gives a weary traveler an experience he'll never forget... if he can remember. He goes home with a dildo souvenir so he'll definitely know something went down that night. #YOLO
At first I was positive this was the same woman that keeps invading my Instagram feed with videos about blowing circus clowns and publicly shaming herself for having the vaginal odor of a Sudanese outhouse. But her (un)puckered starburst having the towing capacity of a Dodge Ram 3500 proved otherwise.
It's feminism month, and to celebrate we're going to have a peek at the standard protocol for dating in Colombia (or so I'm told). Technology has gifted us the ability to see this in real time and saved millions of curious Carlos's from contracting their own case of jungle butt crabs. Surprisingly every one of these girls is a USA 10, so plan your spring break accordingly.
If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
