Some men need oral stimulation to get off. Others, a $20 shopping spree at Buffalo Wild Wings. And then there's this Vlad the Impaler lookin' mother fucker who needs nothing more than basic silverware to send his himself over the big-O rainbow. Hint: May be better enjoyed while listening to this classic piece.
There's a very thin [blood]line between what's acceptable and what isn't in the world of semi-professionally produced porn. I'm not telling you I know where that line is. But I do know Fujisan Ned Flanders just fucking diddly doodly crossed it.
A special service bulletin for the female viewer(s). Next time you feel like exposing your rotten tator tot to the general public, read a couple chapters of Everything I Know About Women I Learned From My Tractor by Roger Welsch first. Maybe you'll find what's missing in your life.
Maybe you've already seen the clip at 2:00. It seems to have spread across the Internet faster than gonorrhea during Burning Man weekend. But the rest is definitely worth a spot amongst your 36 hour doom scroll. More public shame[ing] [here]
Becky Bagels foolishly thinks her road trip to the swampland is going to be an uneventful one. That is, until her travel guide delivers the kind of backdoor beatdown that insurance companies are suddenly starting to add in-network coverage for. Many such cases.
Time to get acquainted with another horde of beatniks that have managed to monetize the kind of performances that once only existed behind the locked doors of a Berlin basement. Big points for that Mitzuwana breakdancing at the 6:12 mark though. Should have taken home Paris gold. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-] [-8-] [-9-]
Wow, being an attention whore really came back to bite this one in the taint eh? Hey 1Pac, how about next time you stick to overdosing in the laundry aisle like everyone else and save the social media challenges for likeigiveafuck.com.
