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 piece highlights some cases of shoulda locked the fucking door but I'm thinking with my genitals and other hilarious cases of people getting busted.
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.
Pairing a guy that looks like he spends the weekend trading anti-lesbian meatloaf recipes over AOL chatrooms, with a girl that gets so purple she should be asking "where's Ronald?" doesn't seem like a contender for documentary of the year. But then you hear who's narrating it.
You know what you get when you cast a guy that looks like he still gets the crust cut off his peanut butter and banana sandwiches? Believability mother fucker, that's what. Remove the Bangbros logo and scatter a few Star Wars Amibos in the background and I would have defended it's authenticity until the end of time.
The "South Floridian's Guide To Dating Your Cousin" or Kylie Island dropping that new fetish DLC? You're probably waiting out the future aftermath videos from her now. The kind that can also be achieved by renting a John Deer tractor and filling her with Oxycontin. But where's the chivalry in that?
A truly beautiful ballad about a girl that makes pterodactyl sex noises and a man that pulls off one of the most amazing sexual achievements ever filmed. I think we all wish we had a little Jimmy in us.
One of these days I'm going to edit some OC home videos into this series. A spirited evening behind a Tim Horton's dumpster specifically comes to mind. She had the kind of lips that swung around like a basset hound's ears during a tropical storm. I never looked at recycling the same again. MORE: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-]
We're talking girth here. It's not often you see [siswet] tap out. At one point in time I was convinced this woman's asshole was going to be the solution to New York City's parking shortages. Now I see even the grand canyon itself has a capacity limit. Never meet your heros.
Imagine reaching a point in your life where incest 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, mother-daughter serial killer, fuck dance home videos and think not hiding your identity is a good idea. This is that point.
Ever wonder how these girls are able to accommodate penises large enough to legally require airbags? HINT: They take painkillers. Lots of 'em. And I'm not talking about the kind that leave you looking like the cover of Alison Arngrim's “Heeere's Amy". (look it up)
