Notorious shake shack enthusiast decides to document one of his many attacks on titan. He sabotages his own rubbers, fakes empathy and could give less than a shit about divorce papers. This could only end one way.
♫18 naked cowboys in the showers at Ram Ranch ♫ Big, hard, throbbing cocks wanting to be sucked ♫ 18 naked cowboys wanting to be fucked ♫ Cowboys in the showers at Ram Ranch
The whole "keeping up with the joneses" thing should probably be an abandoned concept when it comes to xxx content creation. If this behavior keeps up, the capybera population will end up being put on an endangered watch list.
Want hard proof that humans are still all about charity? Look no further friendos. This scumcunt offers some locals the ultimate handout: A free reminder to get yourself STD tested next time you go reaching for those frozen Reese's Cups. You can find her new profile HERE.
Many a question will arise while shuffling through this one, but none more important than whatever comes out of your mouth around the 3:30 mark. Don't worry, you're not alone. I don't fucking know either.
Two semesters spent shotgunning Bud Light and using the sink as a toilet? No problemo. Thirty five seconds of experienced squabblenecking? Not a fucking chance. Ladies and gentlegenders - I present to you face of higher education.
Natalia Borodina died after her head was crushed in a topless holiday stunt gone wrong. The mom of one suffered serious injuries after smashing into a lamp post while leaning out of the passenger window of a car being driven by her friend Ivanna Boirachuk. As the car made its way down the street, it got too close to a curb and Borodina’s head hit a street sign. It’s unclear exactly how fast the car had been traveling at the time of impact.
The misadventures of "Cuck Finn" and his stallion, Andrew. Today they breed a mega whale-beast for recreation. Mistakes are made, disagreements are had and boners are killed over some "dumbass pictures". More Cuck HERE.
To call this girl a boring bang would be the understatement of the damn millennium. I'll put it this way: If you combined a gender studies course with the PGA, you'd still need a 3 hour Al Gore audio book and jumper cables to match pulses with this fucking corpse. You've been warned.
[what you know]: Anyone that's had a TV on after 1:00AM between the years 1997 and 2003 are still trying to get this fucking theme song out of their heads. [what you don't know]: Doug "hobgoblin" Stanhope had the approachability of post-nut clarity Clint Howard. I demand a reboot.
