It's that special time where we honor the internet's most stand out virtual hookers. These clips highlight the dangers, struggles and accomplishments of a profession that's sure to be a future premise of a black mirror episode.
Got a bunch of requests on the girl's name. And in early 2000's fashion, there's more of them than quarters in a football game. She's Michaelle aka Michelle aka Vanessa aka Victoria aka Viktoria and after [11 scenes] she hightailed it away from the BBC payroll.
Space station sized cock. Peanut of a butthole. Yeah, we've seen this story before but the language barrier almost turns this one into a homicide. Moral of the story: Always identify your opponent before agreeing to fight them. I'm talking to you, Jake Paul victims.
The name "Big Bertha" comes from a giant Pre-Nazi German war cannon that would lob 1,800 lb explosive shells into shit like France and Belgium. It also happens to look like this bitches dick.
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.
Willing humiliation and receiving more hits than one of those bullshit primitive building channels. No, it's not Connor's return to the octagon. But it's still gonna cost you $79.99 if her 1st name has a hyphen in it.
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
Today's Menu: 1) Conor McGregor post-retirement 2) Ballin on a Budget 3) Hard Times Daddeh 4) The Mastadon Challenge 5) Contents Under Pressure 6) Always Get Your Moneys Worth
"If you're caught, DON'T STOP!" That's not a direct quote, and it probably shouldn't be. Especially for that broken fire hydrant seasoning the corner table at Smash Burger around the 5:00 mark. Just what in the fuck...
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.
Monetizing your vagina only has a few rules: Minimal trips to Home Depot, and keep the clitoris away from all things with the name "Husqvarna" on them. Not a hard list, but this MFC alumni decides to test fate another way, resulting in a semi-rage quit. GGNORE.
