Three years later and it seems [-our boy-] has ditched the mashed potatoes recipe and moved on to crafting a signature carne asada. ¿Felicidades mi amigo?
Overzealous producer does the unthinkable: Asks his lead actress to inhale a blob of her own mother's farm-fresh protein. But instead of saving a minisecule amount of self-respect for her own golden years, she chows down like the Amazon gift card they paid her with was worth it. #HUMILIATION
At first I was positive this was the same woman that keeps invading my Instagram feed with videos about blowing circus clowns and publicly shaming herself for having the vaginal odor of a Sudanese outhouse. But her (un)puckered starburst having the towing capacity of a Dodge Ram 3500 proved otherwise.
I'll leave you with some wisdom my acquaintance at Panda Express bestowed upon me: Never underestimate a woman's will to feed. She may have the phenotype of a New Jersey soccer mom... but when the adrenaline hits, watch the fuck out.
Not only do women work fewer hours than men, they choose different careers. Women are more interested in people, while men are more interested in things. They also take more browns to the Super Bowl than the NFL ever has in 98 years. - Jordan Peterson
Think your marriage is in trouble? Time to reevaluate things, Ham Hock. Today we have a pioneer of female empowerment that does it all. And by all I mean a.) buttsex b.) buttsex while wearing her wedding ring and admitting it on camera. yikes = big
Another edition of "anal goes wrong", featuring the perforation of a fuckable milf's blown out colon. The city of love probably hasn't seen this much blood since someone made some cartoons last year.
Ron and Jon, still cooling down after an intense night of Minecraft & diet Mountain Dew, stumble upon on a sorority skank mid-coitus and decide to wreak havoc. 10/10 for the sombrero alone.
This girl might as well be the Napoleon Dynamite of fetish videos. (read: perfection). Doesn't even need to be penetrated. Just watching life flash before her eyes in between each fault line cracking was enough to keep my Fruit of the Looms soggy.
The 4:30 mark will be the breaking point for some of you. Is it real? Will you ever look at BFG Division the same again? Did I free throw one into the sink at Starbucks from the foul line because their stall was locked off this morning? All these questions have the same answer.
Consider this an open letter to the content creators out there: I will donate the $13.75 I made trading Krypto Kittys with down syndrome to a charity of your choosing, in exchange for promising to never use condiments on your wiener ever again. The balls are in your courts.
What's hung like a Clydesdale and knows less words than a Pokemon? He's known simply as Vlad, and 37 states require a permit to walk around with that fucking thing in public.
