Prozac-deficient e-girls are a welcomed sight here at eFukt... but this post isn't about the daddy issues. It's about intensity. These temper tantrums cut deeper than a Twitter feed, and while that might not be saying much, I'm confident you'll be impressed.
So you think Dr. Phil has covered all the bases of marital disasters? Well it's time to reevaluate bitch. These pioneers of female empowerment do it all. And by all I mean everything except give us the long awaited sequel to Karen's Krapper: Volume 27. Alexa, play Big Bottom by Spinal Tap.
If you're one of the lucky ones that isn't polluted by the shear amount of shit on TikTok and/or Instagram, let me introduce you to [BabyAlien111]. A 23 year old virgin that has been g(r)ifted a life changing experience by [Ari Alectra]. You can buy the full video [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.
You ever show up for the orgy but just jerk off by yourself? Or have you ever managed to be cringier than a wannabe white rapper with a pick in his ginger afro? Yea... me either. YAY!
Honestly, after making it to the end of this $27.00 budgeted shit show I'm inclined to believe the historical artifact should have stayed forgotten. The full version is over an hour long and makes The Blair Witch Project look like it's part of the Scorsese catalog. I do not recommend.
Remember the frigid chick that randomly started sobbing in the middle of a Rocco shoot? It was actually pretty touching, to both my heart & my penis. But apparently that encounter was only chapter 1 in a saga of piss-poor decisions.
Dude at the 2:00 mark must have went as Apocolypto for Halloween in 2006 and forgot to take the costume off, and I have no doubt our Scottish socialite's rectal contractions look like they just graduated a course in sign language. Go ahead and tell me nice guys actually do win again?
Not exactly the most unexpected chain of events from a class of people that come less prepared for war than whoevers handicap stall I invaded at Waffle House last week. Sorry Wheels, but the bucket in the janitor's closet simply doesn't meet my capacity standard.
For fuck sakes, there's only 2 things capable of further emasculating a man that is fantasy-banging his meth head relative. One is knowing you stuck your dick into a family classic, the other is whatever the shit is going on here.
I'll admit that last clip might be enough to ruin your holiday feast later today. But it's Thanksgiving and you probably need something to talk to grandma about before the sweet potatoes hit the table. You should be thanking me, Mortimer. [PART I] [PART II]