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.
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.
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.
Another historical moment that will make you question inter-metropolitan leisure, or reason #274 trailer parks will never receive subsidized housing? I don't know, but Benjamin Franklin didn't die for this.
Ya know for a girl that's spent this much time in tattoo parlors, you'd think a forehead big enough for UBER to charge $17 to go from nose to scalp would get a little bit more attention. Then again, something tells me rational thinking isn't one of the tenants of someone who writes "when I fuck i dont give a fuck" 6 inches away from their shitter.
Started from the bottom, now we're here. And by here I mean vigorously being tested for sexually transmitted diseases because Dustin from the Target parking lot insisted on not using any form of protection during his big moment. More Blake Blossom here where she apparently streams on Twitch now?
Contrary to appearance, leading role in the 2017 cornhole apocalypse was not her specialty. Now that she's retired, you could say her talents were more wasted than season 5 of The Walking Dead. Regrets are temporary. Mike Tyson uppercutting your sphincter in the 3rd round is forever.
More than a baker's dozen worth of mentally-ill fueled societal taboos so unprecedented, you'll have to rethink your entire post-Delta variant plans for next summer. Don't be fooled by some of the smiles on these faces; Everybody was harmed during the making of this video.
Some men need oral stimulation to get off. Others, a $20 shopping spree at Buffalo Wild Wings. And then there's this Vlad the Impaler lookin' mother fucker who needs nothing more than basic silverware to send his himself over the big-O rainbow. Hint: May be better enjoyed while listening to this classic piece.
I don't think that title and/or thumb truly convey the crossover that's about to happen here. But if it costs $50,000 to get an 8 pack of Oscar Mayer's uncured wieners into a female's dung funnel, then life is no longer worth living. Inflation did this.
