Commit to a blind date in the state of Florida, and I'd say you got about a 98% chance of matching up with a person that dispenses more threatening fluids than a Mountain Dew vending machine. And today my friends, you're gonna learn that the hard way.
You may cringe at the portable cock juicer. You might laugh at Big Foot committing a war crime. You will possibly Door Dash a 7 layer burrito bowl after seeing the sandworm at 0:45 second mark. But one thing's universal: We're all glad self-serving hasn't become a TikTok challenge. Yet.
Space station sized cock. Peanut of a butthole. Yeah, we've seen this story before but the language barrier almost turns this one into a homicide. Moral of the story: Always identify your opponent before agreeing to fight them. I'm talking to you, Jake Paul victims.
Symptom #67 that you've graduated from pornstar to full blown drama queen: 3 pumps from Manuel Ferrara's ham hog makes her tap out faster than the Frank Shamrock/Kevin Jackson fight (look it up). Like my reaction after hearing Oprah Winfrey wants to run for president, you can literally see fear in her eyes.
Dead men rise from grave to start fuck by any means. Can YOU stop zombie? Watch whole porn movie clip before decide. WARNING gunshots and cumshots with Zomb13. Watch @ own sufferings.
Meet Scott Taylor. Today Scott is a well respected porn mogul, but that wasn't always the case. Flashback to the glory years of 1985 and witness the Billy Mays of penis pump salesmen.
Derpina gets the last remaining brain cell sloshed out of her in a way even David Attenborough himself would struggle to provide commentary for. The facial reactions, the irreparable staining of Amazon fabrics, the autism. It truly is thrilling cinema.
Of all the story lines you could choose, expedited shipping would be last on my fucking list. Then again, so is paying autistic girls in gift cards to round out your threesome so maybe I don't see the vision. Perhaps decades of inbreeding and limiting toothbrush ownership to 1 per home has carved itself into a niche I can only describe as: Inflation-Friendly Walmart Porn.
Scene's over and it's time to go home... but first this starlet has a complete mental unraveling. Her tears and plight do little more than generate awkward lulz and kill the mood for the next girl.
I'm all for experimentation (specifically in Home Depot's garden accessories section), but for real... like Jerry's Final Thought real: Eventually this behavior is going to end up with a perforated colon the size of Gary Coleman and then it's GAME OVER YEEEEAAHH.
