I'll admit that last clip might be enough to ruin your holiday feast later today. But it's Thanksgiving and you probably need something to talk to grandma about before the sweet potatoes hit the table. You should be thanking me, Mortimer. [PART I] [PART II]
Many, many years ago, in the days of old known as 1997, an instructional VHS was forged. Watch and learn how to master the art of one handed typing with post-aspergers Winnie Cooper from the "Wonder Years".
Compliments aren't my strong point, but I must say... chick in the yellow dress is fucking stunning. I'd readily eat Honey Nut Cherrios out of Philip Seymour Hoffman's crusty asshole just for a chance to hold her hand. Someone Russian please hook it up.
Don't let the dollar store Botox and short circuiting while trying to multiply 2 numbers together fool you: This 1-wife circus act has paved a new way for women across the the globe. Such as illustrated by her conservative body count of 5-fucking-THOUSAND dicks entering her grease trap. Make sure you watch Part 2.
The downside of crossbreeding compassion with an industry that considers rectal depth as a measuring stick for paycheck tiers? Every dude within the city boundaries will be socializing your cornhole like it's Chinese healthcare. edit: I decided to see what Sativa was up to nowadays... and... well... I was not disappointed
The one and only JSC aka The O.G. Wzard of the Teflon Rectum. Her anal acrobatics set such a standard in the renaissance days of underground porn, you'd almost forget she used her vag recreationally. But in 1998... something magical happened...
She pretty much aces the whole 'prostitute on camera' thing except for one small detail: This newbie pornstar's lady cum has a really unique... consistency.
[what you know]: Anyone that's had a TV on after 1:00AM between the years 1997 and 2003 are still trying to get this fucking theme song out of their heads. [what you don't know]: Doug "hobgoblin" Stanhope had the approachability of post-nut clarity Clint Howard. I demand a reboot.
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.
