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.
You know the drill; An assembly line of females willingly sign up for a chance at making it in the wonderful world of pornography, only to find out at the last second they wrote a check their taste buds can't cash. Emphasis on the last girl. You can scope the full(er) scene [HERE.]
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.
It's all giggles until you hit 5:15. My advice? Be less worried about token counts and more concerned with whatever off-road vehicle ran that thing over and fled the scene. The fuck is going on down there? And more importantly, how many Tremors movies are we up to now?
Is this still considered pornography? Or something that gets submitted to a performative art school as a final project? Because if you're waxin carrot to shit like this, it might be is definitely time for intervention.
I don't think that title and/or thumb truly convey the crossover that's about to happen here. But if it costs $50,000 to get an 8 pack of Oscar Mayer's uncured wieners into a female's dung funnel, then life is no longer worth living. Inflation did this.
It's not even the fact that these fetishes exist. It's that some of these creaturas are banking a yearly salary after swimming through an Arby's dumpster for 3 minutes so Jungle Jack in Frogdick Mississippi can have beat off material for the week. We might not be in end times. But intermission was a long time ago.
One of these days I'm going to edit some OC home videos into this series. A spirited evening behind a Tim Horton's dumpster specifically comes to mind. She had the kind of lips that swung around like a basset hound's ears during a tropical storm. I never looked at recycling the same again. MORE: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-]
Traditional association with Juggalos tends to be littered with words like disfigured and faygo and the aroma of a Sudanese outhouse... but not today. I'll bet my bottom dollar underneath all of that Walmart makeup, Krustina the Klown is a girl worth getting to know. Support them [-HERE-] and [-HERE-]
idk what these goofballs were thinking when they decided going public with these acts of treason was a good idea. Something about the return on investment seems a little fucky. Possibly a decision sponsored and brought to you by [Prime™] Energy drinks. [-PART 1-]
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.
I've seen a lot of people do a lot of repulsive shit just to keep their rent paid. But whatever backyard bangcock bumblefuck blownout butthole bullshit is going on in the last clip? That's a level of holistic hemorrhoidal care I hope to never see IRL. Discuss your disgust [-HERE-]
ex·per·i·menting: [1] to try out new concepts or ways of doing things [2] performing a scientific procedure, to determine something [3] to change the entire demographic for the NERF Elite Strongarm Blaster
Honest. Natural. Doesn't run more filters on herself than an industrial fish tank. Cindy had all the tools to become the next big thing. But 20 seconds into some Sacramento turtlenecking & she's out the door quicker than me watching Fast X. Want to steal his look? [-BUY A SHIRT-]
