My first pay-to-play happened in a Burger King toilet stall. She was more Kurt Perry than Katy Perry, Kinda foul. Not even a triple replay of Heather Graham's bush in Boogie Nights changed the mood that night. But... if I had this guy's attitude? Life... life would be different.
Flattery was never my strong point... and it still isn't. Half the decisions here look like they were made by a person that smokes wet Newports, and yet everyone is chowin down like it's grandma's old fashion applesauce. Your fellow Walmartians will be hearing about this.
Here’s another horrifying example of simp culture; The pussification of the hopeless male in the form of extracurricular CBT. What the fuck is going on here? Ogling strange women at the tune of a months worth of paychecks used to be a respectable form of entertainment. Now? Its just another girl boss moment.
Sonuva bitch... dude's packing the kind of penis that can only be described as "an emergency every time I have to take a piss". Time to call up AARP and find out what size wheelbarrow they're willing to cover for this kind of disability. Something in a dual-wheel polycarbon should do it.
The lore actually goes deeper than you could have ever imagined. It's not about the volume of anonymous vagabond cocks. It's not about the money. It's about sending a [fucking] message.
From his vantage point it probably looks like someone trying to squeeze a flag pole into a gas tank. And much like after someone messes around with flammable substances, someone probably saw hospital time after this little adventure.
Tori Spelling's Guatemalan tit job, the hole in a Walmart bathroom stall and discounted Hamburger Helper on Craigslist: Three things I'd touch before signing up for story time from Rebel "my brain is bigger than my butthole" Lynn ever fucking again.
A proud self-identified "throat goat" with self-destructive blowjob skills attempts total sexual suicide via co-stars penis. I like this bitch, she's fucking crazy.
Supergirl gets the director's cut we've all been waiting for, the French prove that giving up is never an option and that giraffe neck havin mother fucker in the last clip single handedly puts an end to the skinny jeans market. All this and more in today's episode of X-Men.
It seems Allie Addison's apprehension levels are at zero, giving her little trouble with broski's maximum depth potential. And by little trouble, I mean the kind of potential organ rearrangement Art The Clown would be proud of.
What's hung like a Clydesdale and knows less words than a Pokemon? He's known simply as Vlad, and 37 states require a permit to walk around with that fucking thing in public.
