Perhaps 'audible' is the wrong word to use here, as it suggests this misfit anticipated the scene going any other possible way. She didn't. Trust me. I've been inside a Walmart parking lot on a Friday night - I know what I'm talking about.
It's feminism month, and to celebrate we're going to have a peek at the standard protocol for dating in Colombia (or so I'm told). Technology has gifted us the ability to see this in real time and saved millions of curious Carlos's from contracting their own case of jungle butt crabs. Surprisingly every one of these girls is a USA 10, so plan your spring break accordingly.
My gut instinct tells me the era of slasher movies is dead when the practical effects guys start taking on jobs like this. The Friday the 13th reboot was bad. Cult of Chucky sucked. The new Halloween might work... but nothing can prepare you for this alternate ending to Fire in the Sky.
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.
It's almost like as time passes, society has less than a fuck to give about where they burn the midnight salami. Reminds me of the time I was almost caught defecating in a Blockbuster return box in protest to late fees accumulated on Surf Ninjas. [my balance remains due]
Skanky country girl and dopey get real nasty. Either she's on her period or she just can't handle it. Either way she's not bothered at all and licks the bloody snickers bar clean.
A five minute crash-course on how to squeeze every moment out of your favorite side piece, as illustrated by the shameless, the morally-deprived, and the defenders of all things Insane Clown Posse. It's priceless information really. Trust me on this one.
What's hung like a Clydesdale and knows less words than a Pokemon? He's known simply as Vlad, and 37 states require a permit to walk around with that fucking thing in public.
It seems Allie Addison's apprehension levels are at zero, giving her little trouble with broski's maximum depth potential. And by little trouble, I mean the kind of potential organ rearrangement Art The Clown would be proud of.
I don't think that title and/or thumb truly convey the crossover that's about to happen here. But if it costs $50,000 to get an 8 pack of Oscar Mayer's uncured wieners into a female's dung funnel, then life is no longer worth living. Inflation did this.
I'm getting the impression the lady at the 1:04 mark is no stranger to shotgunning a couple servings of Butthole du Jour after a succulent Chinese meal. But flip a camera on and the nerves clap her trap faster than a the DM's from a Discord moderator. More HERE.
