It's time to tackle a topic that has gone unanswered for far too long. And today we're doing it in such a way that'll leave you questioning both the average tolerance of the female sphincter and who should have really been the final boss of Monster Hunter Wilds. [my vote is cast]
An all-minority female cast ultimately leading to me losing faith in life itself? You can go ahead and file this under The 2016 Ghostbusters Reboot of Porn. And Bill Murray can't save you this time.
New fetish unlocked at the 2:35 mark: Wearing your friends fish purses like a pair of Jimmy Choo platforms. Except in this version you don't have to cough up a mortgage payment on 5th avenue before getting ankle deep in fashion week. Bargain of the century. [more: Y809Y]
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.
The best part of having less shame than the 2000 Spanish Paralympics Basketball team? Walking around half mast during lunch hours is no longer for the unsuspecting Chinese delivery man to enjoy alone. That last dude clearing two floors and sprinting half naked though? The girl cheating must've had grip harder than Gollum at Mount Doom.
If attempting to monetize your most private confessions is any sign of a recession, I'd say we're at the tip of an iceberg that would make the dotcom bubble look like like an afterthought. I'll be expecting a lot more of this until Jim Cramer capitulates.
This is ridiculous. Not 'haha-ridiculous' like a slab of society identifying as non-binary lesbian toaster strudel. Dude has zero reaction to strangers stuffing his girl like a Walmart ham, and here I am just waiting for David Attenborough's explanation as to why.
Some women need a good meal and a text goodnight to reach their sexual peak. Others; a couple finger loops around the ole pastrami butterfly. And then there's [Vai] who will stop at nothing less than the full power of Optimus Prime to activate her O-face.
Anybody have the technical name for this phenomenon? or a real explanation? Specifically one that doesn't involve voodoo dolls, Penn & Teller or Planet Wing's suicide sauce. I want answers.
