From the bowels of world star hip hop comes a little gem that's straight outta Compton! Staring a wild wildebeest that has been caught fellating a local hoodlum in the middle of the street. Some real ratchet shit yo!
Emphasis on the 2nd clip. I laughed, I cried, I wondered if this was the backup plan for Cliff Hanger 2 if Stallone's medicine cabinet ran out of human growth hormone. And now you get to experience the same thing for the ultra low price of $0.00. Suck it Apple Vision Pro.
Layin' pipe only has a few rules: 1) Look as little like Harvey Weinstein as possible 2) develop stamina and 3) maintain an erection harder than a bowl of Campbell's tomato soup. Not exactly a difficult list... but this Khokhol is determined to challenge at least 2 key items today. GG NO RE
Some women require foreplay to get off. Others, Little Caesars 5 for $5.00. And then there's Jessica Carrboro aka The Crotch Vampire, who takes no less than a scoop of organic strawberry swirl to get moist. I say this with complete sincerity: You're not ready for her.
After popping a molly (or 5) and getting fucked with a lawn chair, this girl realizes her dreams of being on worldstar are within grasp and totally goes for it. IMHO not worth the lifetime of shame without curly fries and roast beef.
I don't think she wanted her clit pierced, but she asks her boyfriend if he was sure about it and he assured her he was. She goes between pain, pleasure and ends up in tiny convulsions. Fun times!
An aryan goddess sexually trolls the hotel bell hop in order to win a "contest" that may or may not even exist. Regardless, Michael Cera is here to help. Although I'm not entirely convinced he's ever done this before.
Buried in snippets among hours of gang bang porn is a story. The story of a shy fresh-faced eighteen year old curiously browsing a porn store, and slowly becoming a total whore over the period of few short weeks. Amazing.
Skanky country girl and dopey get real nasty. Either she's on her period or she just can't handle it. Either way she's not bothered at all and licks the bloody snickers bar clean.
I think her first mistake was swiping right inside a Walmart. That kind of risk taking can only translate into one thing: "your 17 inches of combo wieners doesn't phase me, please man up and turn my kidneys into a box of Idaho spud's classic mashed potatoes". Invitation accepted.
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.
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.
