Consider this an open letter to the content creators out there: I will donate the $13.75 I made trading Krypto Kittys with down syndrome to a charity of your choosing, in exchange for promising to never use condiments on your wiener ever again. The balls are in your courts.
Of all the story lines you could choose, expedited shipping would be last on my fucking list. Then again, so is paying autistic girls in gift cards to round out your threesome so maybe I don't see the vision. Perhaps decades of inbreeding and limiting toothbrush ownership to 1 per home has carved itself into a niche I can only describe as: Inflation-Friendly Walmart Porn.
The legend with gigantic, fake wonky tits does her first porn shoot ever and she's about to learn pornography isn't all smiles and blowjobs. Nope. Sometimes it's about butt-plugs and pain.
Long before there was "help me stepbro!", there was "have you ever seen your mom naked?". The difference? People wouldn't (normally) contaminate a box of Kleenex's finest to radio shows. Social media was and still is our biggest evolutionary mistake.
Hey maybe this is your thing, and so be it if it is. I just want to make sure we're all on the same page when it comes to buying modern day remakes and how they should involve as many bodily fluids as possible. Always shop smart. Shop S-Mart.
Yeah uh... so is this what studio porn has evolved into? Because if I've lived to the point where people are actually spending money on producing cleverly disguised Cialis commercials we may have finally reached the bottom...
Hot chicks + social anxiety. It's a phenomenal combination, second only to Mr. Pibb w/ Koala Yummies. Add a degree of sexual inexperience into the mix and you got yourself GF material, provided that they don't first end up in porn like this tard.
Pigs flying, A Manson Family Hanukkah special and clean underwear after all-you-can-eat Chinese food. These are all things I expected to see long before a man that has mastered the art of hands-free ejacs. Next time do it into the palm of a guy named Carlos. It's called the Puerto Rican Panhandle, I invented it.
There's 3 things that simply no longer exist in my world: 1) pornography induced erections 2) positive feedback on my 'this is what a feminist looks like' tee and 3) dinners at P.F. Changs that do NOT result in 1st degree burns to my anus. This vid solved 2 outta 3.
There's a lot to digest here. But nothing is as concerning as whatever rodeo clown, double-wide uncle sister bullshit is going on around the 3:11 mark. Axe body wash isn't going to clean this feeling off me tonight. Time to dip into the disaster emergency kit.
They've been hauling 10 tons of Chinese door frames across the country for about 8 hours straight and the nicest thing these guys have seen so far is Esther from IHOP. So, I can't really blame them much for their behavior.
