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.
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
The name "Big Bertha" comes from a giant Pre-Nazi German war cannon that would lob 1,800 lb explosive shells into shit like France and Belgium. It also happens to look like this bitches dick.
Dare venture beyond the realm of myfreecams and you're bound to open a door to the insane asylum known as The Hola18 Wormhole. The only way out is being left with the kind of irreparable confusion felt by someone making it to the end credits of a movie with the words "Tyler Perry" in the title.
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.
Dont let the bandana fool you. This cholo's 'tough guy' persona is about as real as his pleather jacket. Such is illustrated after Gianna does the unforgivable - an unconsensual snowball attack - which he takes like a total bitch. This is funny as fuck.
This one starts out as your typical day in Okinawa, but it looks like there's a tinge of legitimate concern before the credits roll. Guess it's just another one of those unfortunate side effects from engaging with a part of the world that considers mixed martial arts a form of roleplay.
Today's episode isn't about the money. It's about sending a message. Specifically to the derelicts that have used the Riemann hypothesis and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture to justify paying for what you're about to see: Stop it. Get some help.
There's a thin line between trailer park erotica, and soul-deep emotional trauma. Where that line exists I don't know... but judging by the amount of dollar store tattoos I'm seeing on that body, I'd say this human Hindenburg sure as fuck does.
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.
