They've been hauling 10 tons of Chinese door frames across the country for about 8 hours straight and the nicest thing these guys have seen so far is Esther from IHOP. So, I can't really blame them much for their behavior.
She has the face/titties of an angel. Clearly knows her way around a ROSS dress-4-less too. Seldom do I say it but this girl is a cunt hair away from being worthy of a Black Angus prix fixe dinner on my dime. Unfortunately though, she has a clitoris like Adrian Brody has a nose.
What happens when you let your BBC-obsessed husband talk you into the kind of Smackdown WWE would be jealous of? Here's a hint: You end up booking a legendary Iron Man match, but there's no winner.
Around the 1:50 mark she denies a handful of the colonel's secret recipe. Uh uh. If that's her idea of cutting back on carbs, I'd love to know how she celebrates Thanksgiving. But the real question is: How many 2-for-1 Golden Corral coupons does it take to make this transaction possible?
Lulu Love gets an unexpected, unwanted invite to a Turkish bike ride. Likely due to this rectal romeo giving more fucks about where his third supper is coming from than what he's aiming at. In other words: he tried to find da wey and it failed beautifully.
Reminds me of something my grandpa used to say: Your output is only as good as your input. Not since the the trailer for Terminator Dark Fate have I been so disgusted with women over the age of 40.
Let me tell ya something champ: I've seen some loathsome shit in my day: Tijuana farm hopping, suggestive photos of Rosie O'Donnell, and whatever that Ghostbusters reboot was. But this? This made me boil a pot of chamomile tea and tell my dick a bedtime story. [OP]
All he's got in life is his balls, his bike, a GoPro and a dream. So ride along with our anonymous protagonist as he cruises through the city visually tea bagging unsuspecting females.
Mercedes Carrera is hot and sucks a mean dick, but she's about to drop a big ass fuckin truth bomb on the problem with feminists, gamergate and all that shit.
You know you had fun when the next day you wake up with a concussion and realize you not only left your phone, but you also forgot your clothes, underwear, sunglasses and self-respect at the club.