If you've ever powered through Fred Durst's 2019 classic "The Fanatic" then nothing will seem out of place. For the other 99.999% of the population: Prepare to be subjected to the kind of cringe Saturday Night Live has been filling their diaper with for the past 2 decades. And tits.
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-]
Nothing here but people willing to be treated like the bed liner of Ford F-150 with 8 digits on the clock. Some even goes as far as to request moar dick. Complimentary forewarning: Any further into those monkey biscuits & this will technically be classified as a medical procedure.
You know you're in some sort of bat shit crazy porn renaissance when Japan comes in last on the list of things you shouldn't masturbate to. Between the Tijuana down syndrome family plan and whatever the fuck Insane Clown Posse is doing at 1:45, idk if I should cum or cry.
I honestly thought she was faking/farming interaction up until the middle of this. After that her reactions are priceless. Particularly the "i think there's a pack of wallabys gnawing the inside of my sphincter" look that is persistently peppered within this fever dream. Find her live [here]
What's that old saying again? If a mint condition cornhole exists, Pierre Woodman will abuse it more than a penalty shot kicker from England? Unlike Snaggletooth McButtfuck over here, those three lads can sit down on a hard surface for the next month without consequence.
The amazing thing? Multiple people thought these were good ideas and put a whole lot of effort into them. I.E. the guy who had to cut a dick hole in a giant Wheaties box or the man controlling the giant octopus dildo tentacles.
Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
I'm no expert, but we may be reaching ultra critical levels of unforgivable shamelessness here. Or as the Italians used to call it; "Exterminus Adversus Slutterdominous". Now call your parents and tell them what you learned today.
Some of you may be asking the question: "How the hell did it take you so long to get something together for [Hannah Hays]? The fuckin story writes itself.". Honestly... it's overwhelming. Her rabbit hole seems to have more alternate endings than Baldur’s Gate 3.
