Breaking traditional workout regimes, NASA-sponsored ejaculations and Skynet inching ever closer to harvesting our organs through the channel of A.I. powered sex transformers. If the next 8 minutes doesn't shine a more positive light on your life, nothing will. I'm here to help.
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.
Half of these participants would be better suited in the clearance section of Craigslist forgotten /erotic section. The other half might match you on Tinder if you try hard enough. Choose your fate. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-]
At this point I'm not even questioning human behavior. The only thing separating all of us from being narrated by David Attenborough, are complicated sneakers and semi-automatic weapons. Turns out the Internet may have been a mistake after all. Parts: [1] [2] [3]
For the greater good of porn these basement dwelling wannabe's need the Lassie treatment. These guys thinking they have what it takes to be porn stars makes as much sense as the story line for "Sharknado".
When it's a girl's first time doing hardcore porn and she's too nervous on camera to put two syllables together, you get what I imagine to be the closest experience to fucking a corpse you can have without taking a trip to the morgue. Luckily the awkwardness only makes me harder.
It's all giggles until you hit 5:15. My advice? Be less worried about token counts and more concerned with whatever off-road vehicle ran that thing over and fled the scene. The fuck is going on down there? And more importantly, how many Tremors movies are we up to now?
"Fuck me in the ass based god", reluctantly said the state puff marshmallow woman, as he thrusted his black penis deeper into her gooey marsh-mallowy hole.
Here it is. The Citizen Kane of ewww your semen tastes like Gene Wilder's deceased asshole. Actually, I'm not entirely sure whether or not Gene is deceased, but I trust that the implied mental image is effective all the same.
There's only one reason people storyboard, shoot, edit and upload this kind of shit to the Internet. And it lives somewhere in between "I need to pay my taxes" and "$1 dollar pizza slices make me shit blood". Just three of life's little guarantees. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-]
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
My first pay-to-play happened in a Burger King toilet stall. She was more Kurt Perry than Katy Perry, Kinda foul. Not even a triple replay of Heather Graham's bush in Boogie Nights changed the mood that night. But... if I had this guy's attitude? Life... life would be different.
