Not old enough to leave Food Lion with a 6-pack of Bud Light, but she's already carrying a body count that would make a frat house blush? You'd think by the semi-centennial cock that went 1v1 with DM-TrainTrackFace she would've learned to fertilize the backyard. But... nope.
Nothing quite spells EFUKT like a supposed 'Navy Seal' turned male pornstar challenging 80+ CSUN students to a backyard brawl, whilst completely naked and armed with nothing but a slowly deflating boner. HAHA.
For a minute there I was starting to lose faith in degenerate white guy's ability to keep me entertained. Then I was introduced to a fetish with more questions than Sylvester Stallone's medicine cabinet.
"Django the Fifth's Revenge" is the story of a self-proclaimed "black cock beast" on a mission. Notice the highly viscous load of seminal fluid dangle dancing off her chin the whole scene.
If you think that number is talking about hog dimensions, you will be sorely mistaken. It seems this attraction has stricter height limitations than Six Flag's El Toro. You gotta measure less than 4 feet tall, well-versed in THOTology and be next in line for a fight with Jake Paul. Brutal. Part 1 [HERE] Part 2 [HERE] Support [HERE]
You clicked the original one so many damn times, I had to dive deeper into her discography. Unfortunately it turns out all her roads lead to this evolutionary cul-de-sac using her as the only form of exercise he's seen since Jock Jams was a thing. Don't look that up. [-PART I-]
The lore actually goes deeper than you could have ever imagined. It's not about the volume of anonymous vagabond cocks. It's not about the money. It's about sending a [fucking] message.
Any female that signs up for a Woodman scene more than likely has an undiagnosed neurodevelopmental disorder. And she is no different. A handful of WWE finishing moves has her pastrami butterfly goopafied and no other man will satisfy her again. #gg
You clicked the original one so many damn times, I had to dive deeper into her discography. Unfortunately it turns out all her roads lead to this evolutionary cul-de-sac using her as the only form of exercise he's seen since Jock Jams was a thing. Don't look that up. [-PART I-]
The reality of having less musical talent than an asthmatic hedgehog must have hit her like a sac of 90's PSA videos and she needed clout, badly. How can life get any worse you ask? Well... I'll let searches for "how do you stitch a butthole" answer that.
