Of all the story lines you could choose, expedited shipping would be last on my fucking list. Then again, so is paying autistic girls in gift cards to round out your threesome so maybe I don't see the vision. Perhaps decades of inbreeding and limiting toothbrush ownership to 1 per home has carved itself into a niche I can only describe as: Inflation-Friendly Walmart Porn.
Looks like someone crossbred Rosario Dawson with a howler monkey and gave it rabies. But this isn't for the lulz... more about awareness. You honestly don't even need video for this. The soundtrack alone is enough to keep my Bugle Boy cut-offs on the rinse cycle.
It's that time of year again. When degenerate girls jacked to the tits in daddy issues insist on doing it for tha gram but end up frail, fucked and forgotten. Not since the days of blindly acquiring porn ala 5600 baud Limewire have I come across a female with such anti-seminal fortitude.
Getting your meat bag blown out within shouting distance of a stranger's apartment is a bold move. One of superiority tbh. Nancy and her 19 cats will think twice about filing a noise complaint when this lands in her inbox.
First attempts at delivering a beat down in meat town [1:53], a possible Resident Evil 4 cosplay [3:27] and a language barrier so ridiculous I might have to give the girl her own special section on this site in the future. [4:17] If your Tinder profile doesn't have the words butt poosy fuck on it, why even try?
Traditional association with Juggalos tends to be littered with words like disfigured and faygo and the aroma of a Sudanese outhouse... but not today. I'll bet my bottom dollar underneath all of that Walmart makeup, Krustina the Klown is a girl worth getting to know. Support them [-HERE-] and [-HERE-]
Today's edition is chock full of bladder busters, flagrant neighbor abuse and whatever that vegan dinner special was at the end. But what really activated my garbanzo bean is the length some of these fucking gargoyles are willing to go. Take notes ladies: It's this kind of work ethic that transforms you from super walmart to super star.
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.
In Russia, a fake farm equipped with disco lights and some thot lip syncing catchy dance music while fucking for 20 minutes is quality porn. I'm not totally convinced, but the song does have a 'pavlov's dog' effect on my boner now.
I guess this is what happens when your Netflix and Chill night turns into a solo adventure and you start organizing the "Foreign Girls That Like WuTang" sub-folder in your NUT directory. I don't know, I see more reasons you shouldn't cornhole wild life thanks to her constant deer-in-headlights reaction than I do sitcom legends. Thoughts?
