The more inbreeding in your bloodline, the further you'll go to seek sexual satisfaction. A simple concept, officially reinforced by whatever director's cut episode of Survivor Man is going on in that last clip. I'll put it this way; in comparison it makes Jeppson's Malort seem like a fucking delicacy. It's that abhorrent.
Did flashing interns at the local 7-11 becoming a challenge or something? Apparently this miscreant prefers the orifices less traveled. Specifically the ones small enough to give Tiger Woods anxiety attacks. C-L-A-S-S-Y.
The Oakland Doorknob. German Knuckle Cake. Mongolian Taco Punching. Not buying Bitcoin when it was 73 cents. It goes by a lotta different names. But the shame... thats always the same.
A proud self-identified "throat slut" with self-destructive blowjob skills attempts total sexual martyrdom via co-stars penis. I like this bitch, she's fucking crazy.
99.99% of men will never experience this man's life. He's got the negotiating skills of Elon Musk, the aura of a baconator and they've got no other options. It's a sexual combination you never knew you wanted until today.
“Don't limit yourself. Many people limit themselves to what they think they can do. You can go as far as your mind lets you. What you believe, you can achieve.” — Mary Kay Ash
Somewhere in the next 4 minutes you may ask yourself: What the fuck led to the creation of this? Amphetamines? Mental illness? An unhealthy addiction to masturbating with a Vitamix Explorian [2:20 mark] I don't know but... another sequel is most definitely in the works. [-PART 1-]
Get ready to endure more than 9 of the craziest and most intense orgasms ever filmed. Orgasms that "feels good on muh dick" and require the use of phrases like "hosed down", "came buckets" and sloots saying "omg" 9001x.
I can't imagine what life decisions lead to your obituary being littered with the words "twerking" and "public nuisance" and "30,000 volts". But I'm betting it involves the neighbor's parakeet, and all 16 delicious flavors of Rice-a-Roni. (fuck you Rice Pilaf)
If attempting to monetize your most private confessions is any sign of a recession, I'd say we're at the tip of an iceberg that would make the dotcom bubble look like like an afterthought. I'll be expecting a lot more of this until Jim Cramer capitulates.