Irrationally sized flobberweavels, a urethra that's suffered more abuse than whoever the fuck bought Barstool for $500 mil and the recreation of a classic in glorious high(er) definition. Don't think of this as the balanced breakfast you need, think of it as the one you deserve.
You know the deal: It's the height of the pandemic and funds are circling the drain. So you hit up the local videographers and offer your services to the highest bidder. I_CUM_HELLMANS hits up your DM's on Reddit and now the smell never washes off. GG NO RE
Reminds me of something my grandpa used to say: Your output is only as good as your input. Not since the the trailer for Terminator Dark Fate have I been so disgusted with women over the age of 40.
We're talking girth here. It's not often you see [siswet] tap out. At one point in time I was convinced this woman's asshole was going to be the solution to New York City's parking shortages. Now I see even the grand canyon itself has a capacity limit. Never meet your heros.
Moscow drug mule gets into a personal world war with her own rectum, most likely the result of an all kholodets diet (look it up). Jiggy Saw himself once said: "When there's that much poison in your blood, the only thing left to do, is shoot yourself." In other words; She attempted to no-scope and succeeded beautifully.
Tripling down on a sub-culture that has defied all odds and normalized paying for content less interesting than giving Betty White 15 unsupervised minutes with a lawn sprinkler. These hype machines never seem to deliver. But the ones that come up really short? These might get a nut or 5 out of you. [PART I] [PART II]
A hilarious short story about the prettiest ogre girl from the little village of Mordor... She was looking for her big break but instead she was left with only $250, a butt load of pain and a mouth full of grossness. Me gusta?
She's got the looks, she's got the body and she definitely has the talent. She can also use her vagina to keep your subs warm and hang a coat. Now she's stealing our hearts. Duck Tales. A woo ooh.
I can't imagine what life decisions lead to your obituary being littered with the words "twerking" and "public nuisance" and "30,000 volts". But I'm betting it involves the neighbor's parakeet, and all 16 delicious flavors of Rice-a-Roni. (fuck you Rice Pilaf)
