That's it man. As far as I'm concerned vegans have officially jumped the plant-based shark. Not even at the height of one of my patented Acid Trip + Red Lobster Biscuit wombo combo benders did I envision something as despicable as this going behind a paywall.
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!
There's a lot to digest here. But nothing is as concerning as whatever rodeo clown, double-wide uncle sister bullshit is going on around the 3:11 mark. Axe body wash isn't going to clean this feeling off me tonight. Time to dip into the disaster emergency kit.
Is it even possible to bring an oriental female to orgasm without the help of Bob Vila's signature series at this point? I don't know what evolutionary timeline they're living in over there, I can promise you this road only leads to an addiction to Newport cigarettes and a whole lot of apologies.
Take a girl with some obvious daddy issues, throw her in a room with some pussy hungry guys who are into brutality, and what do you get? A very happy and very sore vagina. I think we should give them weapons for round 2.
Bridge piercing, stomach tattoos and the occasional rush to the emergency room for soft tissue damage. May I be so bold to say I haven't seen this level of intensity since The Shining.
AKA "how to ruin your reputation on a global scale." Usually it's a good thing if everyone gets laid at a party... but not when they all fucked the same chubby std collector.
Symptom #293 you need to put an end to the all-turnip and MDMA diet: You develop the sex drive of a cinder block followed by the kind of speech impediment that could end a marriage in Alabama. But rather than seek Dr. Phil's help, you do this instead.
Dare venture beyond the realm of myfreecams and you're bound to open a door to the insane asylum known as The Hola18 Wormhole. The only way out is being left with the kind of irreparable confusion felt by someone making it to the end credits of a movie with the words "Tyler Perry" in the title.
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]
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.
