More than enough reasons (see: 1) to never "try that thing i saw on the Internet with my girlfriend". Somewhere between the beef bazooka blowouts and frantically Google searching "how to get cat litter out of my vagina" you'll lose that last shred of dignity Dr. Phil is always screeching about.
[what you know]: Anyone that's had a TV on after 1:00AM between the years 1997 and 2003 are still trying to get this fucking theme song out of their heads. [what you don't know]: Doug "hobgoblin" Stanhope had the approachability of post-nut clarity Clint Howard. I demand a reboot.
The unwritten rules east Asian pervert punishment? #1: Follow the dress code at all times #2: Stay hydrated and (most importantly) #3: Outdo WWE's last pay-per-view in both outfit design and dynamic movesets. I'd say our employee of the month is 3 for 3.
Professional cuck-enabler Mariah Leonne takes a mouth-first dive into new territory; only to end up filming what may very well be the first "moment I changed teams" ever caught on video. For some strange reason, they broke up right after this.
The downside of crossbreeding compassion with an industry that considers rectal depth as a measuring stick for paycheck tiers? Every dude within the city boundaries will be socializing your cornhole like it's Chinese healthcare. edit: I decided to see what Sativa was up to nowadays... and... well... I was not disappointed
I'm no expert in carrying on sexual relationships with something dirtier than Howard Stern's astroglide surprise... but I do know a thing or two about self-medication: And lady - you can't blame this one on the pharmaceuticals.
Round 2 for the most depraved, fatherless clout-chasers on the Internet as we know it today today. I'm talking about real deal independent women here. The kind that pay for their birth control with subscriber money. [Part 1]
