I'll admit that last clip might be enough to ruin your holiday feast later today. But it's Thanksgiving and you probably need something to talk to grandma about before the sweet potatoes hit the table. You should be thanking me, Mortimer. [PART I] [PART II]
True Blood's Sukki has a ratchet doppelganger that attempted porn and totally hated it. Her debut goes about as smoothly as a psoriasis break out... But unlike psoriasis she never came back and wasn't seen again.
From the clearance section of BackPage.com comes an escort sporting bed bugs, a wonky titty, and a heart of gold. Her entire scene is just one giant cluster fuck disaster of fail and it's beautiful.
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-]
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.
Backpage's finest goes by "daddy's baby anal queen" and she aspires for greatness via her butthole. The only problem is she hates anal and her possibly worm-infested colon is so tight, it's like trying to fit an elephant in a Safeway bag.
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-]
If you think that number is talking about hog dimensions, you will be sorely mistaken. It seems this attraction has stricter height limitations than Six Flag's El Toro. You gotta measure less than 4 feet tall, well-versed in THOTology and be next in line for a fight with Jake Paul. Brutal. Part 1 [HERE] Part 2 [HERE] Support [HERE]
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.
2002-2004. An era of professionally produced pornography that should probably be forgotten. Not a single penetration was made, yet I feel like I've been fucked by spare tires and empty cans of Busch Light after sitting through this atrocity. The line dropped at 2:30 really makes you wonder how many Marlboro Miles these guy were paid for the scene.
It's hard being a 425 pound Mexican pornstar with a cock comparable to that of a newborn Chinchilla. Everyday you risk a potential heart attack, difficulty wiping your ass after dropping a deuce and.. oh yeah, completely fucking missing during a facial scene despite being quite literally 3 centimeters away. Ay, Carumba!
