Sorry to all competing rookies out there trying to cover the Vagisil bill: This is the type of content you need to be producing now. Those glory days of not acting like somebody hooked a lawn mower battery to your fallopian tubes to get attention are over. Devon... get the Flex Tape.
There's just no hiding from your past once you pull the trigger on something like this. Their Ross Store wardrobes will be forever stained. The regret can't be washed off. And the $27 paycheck isn't enough to drink the memories away. #crankthattherapist
There's just no hiding from your past once you pull the trigger on something like this. Their Ross Store wardrobes will be forever stained. The regret can't be washed off. And the $27 paycheck isn't enough to drink the memories away. #crankthattherapist
It seems Allie Addison's apprehension levels are at zero, giving her little trouble with broski's maximum depth potential. And by little trouble, I mean the kind of potential organ rearrangement Art The Clown would be proud of.
Based on a true story about a peanut butter sandwich, the dangers of masturbating, and how Aunt Opal made her nephew a man. A man with issues needing life long therapy, but a man none the less.
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.
This one taught me two things: A) Breaking points are negotiable and B) Any case studies of being on the spectrum and in porn can now be cancelled. Dorkalina's got us covered.
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.
Between the carnivorous instructions that might actually devolve human beings and whatever the fuck ancient language was trying to leak out of the guy in the last clip, I think it's safe to say we have some form of a predicament in our education system.
Food Reviewers: Some do it because they found a way to monetize gluttony. Others, just want that sweet mcnugget sponsorship. And then there's Bruce. A man with enough F-tier hate fuck material to earn the Gordon Ramsey seal of approval. Feel free to tweet this video out @WENDY'S. I'd like their input on this.
My first pay-to-play happened in a Burger King toilet stall. She was more Kurt Perry than Katy Perry, Kinda foul. Not even a triple replay of Heather Graham's bush in Boogie Nights changed the mood that night. But... if I had this guy's attitude? Life... life would be different.
