A public service announcement on the cons and cons of searching for costars in Craigslist's general section. If their intimate relationship with $5 scratch off tickets doesn't erect your cock, the aroma of Newport Menthols probably will.
I've sat through 8 billion brother fucker storylines, the desecration of an icon and whatever the fuck this is. That being said, it's comforting to know I can still find astonishment in the super weeb fever dream you're about to witness. Good luck.
What weighs 325 pounds, has hair worse than Phil Spector, and secretly enjoys getting karate-kicked in the appendix while ripping ass? This chick's 798th fuck buddy, and he's not even the worst of the bunch.
Girls this determined to finish are hard to find without an Olympian background, so consider yourself lucky. Both for getting to bear witness to this unstoppable force, and for not having to be the one to explain the beef bourguignon shit stains on mom's new comforter.
The 70's were a special time in history where no one gave a fuck. Smoking in hospitals, untamed pubes, sexually harassing midgets at the workplace, and faking a cum shot with a limp penis and shampoo? No problem. Nothing was sacred.
Our boy is having domicile problems of the synthetic drug variety, and it's fucking up his after-work Roblox clan war. The charges? Breaking and entering, aggravated harassment, disorderly conduct and skidmarking Target's finest bedroom linen. Tensions rise, police are called, I laugh. Pretty funny shit.
Todays menu: a.) girl manipulates dad into oral sex while mom contemplates suicide b.) leper fucks ass, leper's winky gets decapitated, leper continues to fuck ass anyway and c.) vintage porn, never fuck with a man that's just lost a game of Old Maid.
Inflation is nearing 9% and you're burning through c-notes so you can Rube Goldberg machine your way into the Guinness Book of Degenerate Orgasms? Someone send this to Dave Ramsey, I want to see him shit his economically priced pants.
Here it is; A collection of bros that last about as long as I do during a Marvel film released after End Game. Normally these misfits would be thrown into the compost pile and forgotten, but these speedruns need to be seen to be believed.
Show me a woman that puts this much emotion into her goose hole jabberwocky, and I'll show you the kind of 90-Day Fiance episodes actually worth watching. Now somebody knock down a retaining wall so big Ed can get his neck through the door, and lets start the sequel.
