So, who's really to blame here? The horse farm that secured their perimeter to keep her away from the livestock, or the guy with 4 Q's in his name that's keeping her on a 1-token drip for the past 4 hours?
Girls this determined to finish are hard to find without an Olympian background, so consider yourself lucky. Both for getting to bear witness to this unstoppable force, and for not having to be the one to explain the beef bourguignon shit stains on mom's new comforter.
I'll go ahead and pass on the van life vibes half of these participants are exhibiting, but it's still better than what passes for the norm today: Cosplaying as a gAmEr guRL that rations bathwater for tier-3 subscribtions and "whoopsies" her way through milk toast sexual acts. Pay close attention to that last clip my ever growing OF creators: This is the content we want.
See that rush of fear around the 3:00 mark? That's the kind of reaction second only to a man that has miscalculated his maximum capacity for P.F. Changs Orange Chicken in a public venue. And I think that's something we can all relate to. L, OH, fuckin L
Who the fuck comes up with these hybrid fetish flicks? Next time you producers want to get creative, how about coating a machete in Zoloft and fucking Logan Paul up the cornholio until he's smiling like Matt Damon on the cover of Good Will Hunting? Google it.
Some will say this is in awful taste or porn of dead girls is weird and maybe they're right but this is like any other athlete or artist memorial montage. A cautionary tribute to the dead rockstars of porn. RIP. 24/7 support for all industry performers.
If anyone's interested in a wager, I have Season 6 of Bill Nye the Science Guy on bluray that says my pet chinchilla drops bigger deuces than this chick. More of her HERE.
Not really surprising from a girl that calls herself Wisconsin Tiff, but the alternative medicine excuse for this behavior immediately goes out the window. Can't even blame the moon lettuce and it's sibling psychedelics for this digital footprint.
Kinda want to emphasize those gravity bags reaching maximum velocity around the 5:00 minute mark. Jell-o has spent over 100 years trying to market physics like this and have failed miserably in comparison. Turns out all you need is a 1-bedroom apartment in Latvia and a c-section scar to make math fun again.
