200 women, 500 men, an uncountable amount of dollar store tattoos and a dead ex-husband are just the tip of the cuntberg for this self-proclaimed 'human cockroach'. I do have to say though, that vagina is in remarkable condition for a lady that has more mileage than Al Bundy's Dodge Duster. [More Info = HERE]
There's a thin line between getting your PhD with a doctorate in biology, and reprising your role as JUDGE FUCKING DOOM in the x-rated Roger Rabbit reboot. Where the line lies, I don't really know... but I'm pretty damn sure masturbation is no longer an option this week. [More Info Here]
This is what happens when you allow women with less body weight than an anorexic chihuahua cross the line into extreme fetishes. Brain cells gets damaged, lives are ruined... all because some asshole couldn't jack his goldfish off in the basement like a normal 47-year-old man.
FORNICATION: It's pretty basic stuff. But for Goober McAutismo over here it might as well be mission impossible. What you're about to see may quite possibly be the worst excuse for sexual entertainment that's ever made it online... and that's coming from someone who sat through all 74 minutes of Edward Penishands. Twice.
Remember that fat crybaby from one of the few episodes of The Maury Show that didn't involve teenagers giving handjobs in exchange for chicken mcnuggets? She had this uncanny ability to make hundreds of bad decisions in a row. Well, it appears she reproduced.
I like her face. I like her enthusiasm. But above all I like her devotion to commitment. Her borderline absent reaction to an explosive device detonating inside her spincther however, has reinforced my stance on late-term abortions. Like, 35 years late. Toss a token in the abyss via the source link.
Undoubtedly the most erotic thing I've seen since responding to an OKCupid message from a girl named The Violator. Results were similar if you replace 'cumshot' with 'Hellmans Tartar Sauce'. And 'private affair' with 'Burger King during rush hour'.
If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
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.
