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.
Mobilized midgets, successfully executed autocunnilngus and the recreation of a sexual maneuver that put Okinawa on the map. It's safe to say this hodgepodge of misfits is more well rounded than a Golden Corral dinner special. Want more? PARTS: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-]
As we head towards the final sunset of a year that gave more than one reason to disembowel our own eyeballs with a stinger missile, it's time we reflected. May 2024 bestow upon us more trolls, deeper holes and Twitch.com finishing it's metamorphosis into Chaturbate.
So, this is the new standard for getting attention? Terrorizing unsuspecting civilians with your prescription flavored genitals and "oopsy'ing" ur way through milk toast sexual acts? Points for the self-awareness though. It adds a little depth to my upcoming biography aptly named: Sex, Drugs & Brain Damage
What weighs 325 pounds, has hair worse than Phil Spector, and secretly enjoys getting karate-kicked in the appendix while ripping ass? This chick's 798th fuck buddy, and he's not even the worst of the bunch.
This is all but guaranteed to exterminate any story you've been led to believe that everyone in the webcam community is living life on easy mode. Snap back to reality with 5 disasters even FEMA won't pick up your phone calls for.
Ya know for a girl that's spent this much time in tattoo parlors, you'd think a forehead big enough for UBER to charge $17 to go from nose to scalp would get a little bit more attention. Then again, something tells me rational thinking isn't one of the tenants of someone who writes "when I fuck i dont give a fuck" 6 inches away from their shitter.
Not since the 2005 release of 1 Night In Chyna have I seen a woman with such a fucked up misunderstanding of eroticism. She grunts like pirate with stage 4 throat cancer, pisses all over the place, and has a finishing act that'll assfuck your brain cells.
Looks like someone crossbred Rosario Dawson with a howler monkey and gave it rabies. But this isn't for the lulz... more about awareness. You honestly don't even need video for this. The soundtrack alone is enough to keep my Bugle Boy cut-offs on the rinse cycle.
Over the course of 15 years, I've tried saving the word epic for oddities that truly work for the definition. And let me tell you friends: If an emotional beat down of a daddy-issued ketamine-lifer doesn't earn it, the 4-inch race-rampage in the final act will lol.
