If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
Brittanya Razavi channels her inner Gordon Ramsay. Kagney Linn Carter puts herself on a list. Pierre Woodman blurs the language barrier for the 900th time this year. And Amai Liu... Well... let's just say we finally have a real threat for Jake Paul. #bookit
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.
Compliments aren't my strong point, but I must say... chick in the yellow dress is fucking stunning. I'd readily eat Honey Nut Cherrios out of Philip Seymour Hoffman's crusty asshole just for a chance to hold her hand. Someone Russian please hook it up.
Imagine making it to the last clip of this degenerate fever dream and still thinking everything's gonna be alright. We are six (or seven) kinds of fucked if this conduct continues. James Sunderland sends his regards. More of Scene 1 [HERE].
I've never seen Gianna cave before, no matter how big the cock. It's as if her vaginal canal is made of Teflon, with more square footage than James Van Der Beek's forehead. But after watching this, I'm not so sure.
A special "BRUH" moment for clip #4. I honestly haven't seen a woman that concerned since I test ran the floor units in Home Depot's toilet bowl section after White Castle started selling their burgers by the hundreds. Let's just say I'm not allowed to improve my house again until 2027. TAKE IT AWAY CORPSEGRINDER.
I gotta emphasis the "sOcIaL eXpEriMeNt" you're gonna see at the 2:00 mark. Normally this attempt at public depravity would be immediately thrown into the compost pile for wasting our time. But I'm told this lunatic is legit, and has a history of freebasing randoms along her journey. You and your Zappos membership can be the judge of that.
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
Lexi Grey has a long list of do's and a virtually non-existent list of do-nots. Now somebody get this future hall of famer the urban dictionary definition of Alabama Hot Pocket ASAP so we can fight over who gets to marry her first.
