"they not like us"; It seems to be the mantra on autopilot for half the planet right now. Most semi-coherent adults would never equate the term to needing NASA engineering to put the insides of your asshole back together again. But then 6:52 happens. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-] [-8-] [-9-] [-10-]
Zero evidence of her chromosome count, but judging by this performance it's safe to say we're working with a surplus here. Not exactly a stark contrast for this website, but next time I want a female performance to leave me softer than a bowl of cotton candy I'll just turn on Impact Wrestling.
First impressions are important. Unless of course your name is Kandi Baby and have access to more pharmaceuticals than Liver King. Whoever thought it was a good idea to release this pornographic lobotomy probably saw The Marvels on opening day too.
One of those rare moments where I can overlook the obvious health code violations because the performance is legendary. Be sure to leave them a ★★★★★ Yelp review. Something along the lines of: Service was fast. Getting pubic lice was faster.
Dude at the 2:00 mark must have went as Apocolypto for Halloween in 2006 and forgot to take the costume off, and I have no doubt our Scottish socialite's rectal contractions look like they just graduated a course in sign language. Go ahead and tell me nice guys actually do win again?
Seldom do I say it but this girl is a cunt hair away from being worthy of a Black Angus prix fixe dinner on my dime. Unfortunately though, she has a clitoris like Adrian Brody has a nose.
The mentally ill adopted daughter of billionaire Steven Spielberg wants to be financially independent. So, what does any strong empowered independent female do in 2020? Make an onlyfans account. [Full Story]
What's mine is yours. And what's yours makes her think walking away from that 4-year degree in Anthropological Gender Studies of Amazonian Tree Frogs to do this instead was a bad idea.
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
Much like Robocop 1-3, this goes from mildly erotic to fucking horrible pretty darn fast. Tipping point involves a Cambodian that apparently tried to high-five a weed wacker.