Lulu Love gets an unexpected, unwanted invite to a Turkish bike ride. Likely due to this rectal romeo giving more fucks about where his third supper is coming from than what he's aiming at. In other words: he tried to find da wey and it failed beautifully.
Respect to the second girl [0:22 second mark] for being naturally gifted the amount of lip filler that could inflate the tire of a corn harvester, just injected into the wrong part of the body. It's anomalies like her that take these kinds of videos from "entertaining" to "autistic".
Time to get acquainted with another horde of beatniks that have managed to monetize the kind of performances that once only existed behind the locked doors of a Berlin basement. Big points for that Mitzuwana breakdancing at the 6:12 mark though. Should have taken home Paris gold. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-] [-8-] [-9-]
Without looking up their robust discography, I'm going to say there's at least a 275% chance Insane Clown Posse wrote a song about this. Over/under anyone?
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.
Every day, everywhere you look people are spamming fears of USD collapse and political discourse. While I'm over here waiting for things like this to start happening in Chipotle parking lots during daytime hours again. #boomer #oldfashioned
I'm not even phased by empty-calorie diet plan Okinawa constantly subjects me to anymore. What really twists my biscuits is the lack of followup to these videos. idk what monster this T-Virus will turn them into, but we probably don't have enough ammo to kill them.
Darrell spent a year talking his wife Nikki into giving swinging a shot. She finally gives in and it does not go to plan. To add insult to injury, the whole humiliating ordeal is captured forever in some shitty pseudo-documentary.
What's hung like a Clydesdale and knows less words than a Pokemon? He's known simply as Vlad, and 37 states require a permit to walk around with that fucking thing in public.
All kinds of fucking disturbance going on here, but the girl hyper gooning next to the 3rd editions of Goosebumps soft covers should probably get an award or an all-expenses paid trip to the Vagisil aisle at her local RiteAid or something. Those carpets look filthy.
