Everything in life has a proper explanation if you open your mind. Except the homie trying to scrub daddy his dirty walnut on a Tuesday afternoon in broad daylight around the 1:45 mark. NORAD will hear about this.
Introducing you to another gaggle of misfits that have managed to find active railroads, public highways and stranger's garages erotic enough to keep the erections at maximum stiffness. Extra points on that last clip, for our hero having enough restraint to not set anyone on fire.
If your social skank score is measured by the amount of times your bare ass has been caught on CCTV, I'd say these highway hoebags are sitting somewhere between "Code Orange" and "Threat to Society" Now, DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE YOU GO
Hiking trails? Elevators? Nursing homes? That's right, all of your most unassuming entertainment venues come at a hidden cost. Just a non-related tip of the day: Steer clear from any dipping sauces that have the word tangy in the name near closing time. Trust me.
The pharyngeal reflex AKA laryngeal spasm AKA gag reflex exists to prevent us from dying, but it also makes it much harder to shove dicks down our throats.
I'll go ahead and pass on the van life vibes half of these participants are exhibiting, but it's still better than what passes for the norm today: Cosplaying as a gAmEr guRL that rations bathwater for tier-3 subscribtions and "whoopsies" her way through milk toast sexual acts. Pay close attention to that last clip my ever growing OF creators: This is the content we want.
A five minute crash-course on how to squeeze every moment out of your favorite side piece, as illustrated by the shameless, the morally-deprived, and the defenders of all things Insane Clown Posse. It's priceless information really. Trust me on this one.
Turns out the 1987 original was supposed to be even more violent. With the new remake getting a PG-13 rating, with it comes the almost certainty to destroy the ultra-violent badass awesomeness of RoboCop and change him into a safe for kids metal pussy. Source: Ourrobocopremake.com
Semi-homeless degenerate gets caught 4 strokes away from superstardom only to be met with the full force of a Starbucks-fueled Karen, ultimately sending his hardon to the boner graveyard. We've all seen it before. BUT, the big game hunter at the 2:15 mark? That predator deserves it's own week on The Discovery Channel.
A special service bulletin for the female viewer(s). Next time you feel like exposing your rotten tator tot to the general public, read a couple chapters of Everything I Know About Women I Learned From My Tractor by Roger Welsch first. Maybe you'll find what's missing in your life.
