200 women, 500 men, an uncountable amount of dollar store tattoos and a dead ex-husband are just the tip of the cuntberg for this self-proclaimed 'human cockroach'. I do have to say though, that vagina is in remarkable condition for a lady that has more mileage than Al Bundy's Dodge Duster. [More Info = HERE]
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.
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.
Amazonian domination, severe rectal irrigation tutorials and we finish strong with the 99th reason to always leave classic movies in their original form. More here: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]
What in the cornbread skidmark hell is going on with this generation? Once upon a time having the genetic configuration of a Madagascar tomato frog would limit your partners to Walmart shoppers. Now? No one even pumps the brakes. Support [HERE] [HERE] and [HERE]
Shane Diesel the type that gotta stand when he poops or his dick floats in the water. His dick so big he can't even go balls deep on these professional cock smugglers without causing serious internal injuries.
Another posse of preoccupied partially sentient protagonists wondering if they could but never questioning if they should. These things would have never happened if they just gave Jeff Goldblum the Oscar.
