Meet Luciana. aka Timea Bella. aka Indisputable Liar. She claims her stink whistle has less mileage on it than the Peloton in Ozzy Osbourne's basement, yet doesn't even call a timeout when Woody goes straight to the A. But when it comes time to sample some French vanilla, she calls it quits. Stay tuned for part 2 where I'll showcase her triumphant comeback.
Easily the most deplorable attempt at eroticism to ever grace my 11" Amiga computer monitor [this week]. And that's coming from a human being who's seen more than 23 consecutive mins of a Dwayne Johnson movie. My opinion matters.
Not since walking into a waffle house at 2:00AM have I seen such disrespect for the lower half of indigenous females. And just like the riot that ended that night, these alphas have no intent of letting $39.00 worth of plastic surgery go to waste.
Sickening. Abhorrent. And honestly? Offensive. Now that we're done reviewing the second season of The Last Of Us, we can watch this. Emmy nominations across the board.
A special service bulletin for the female viewer(s). Next time you feel like exposing your rotten tator tot to the general public, read a couple chapters of Everything I Know About Women I Learned From My Tractor by Roger Welsch first. Maybe you'll find what's missing in your life.
A happily married couple is currently pushing the boundaries of amateur porn. They're both jizz fanatics that mix their love of semen with public escapades. I wish I had a friend with a wife like this.
What's that old saying again? If a mint condition cornhole exists, Pierre Woodman will abuse it more than a penalty shot kicker from England? Unlike Snaggletooth McButtfuck over here, those three lads can sit down on a hard surface for the next month without consequence.
Every so often I come across an individual that makes me ask: How much tarantula fucking middle aged misguided trailer park moonshine did they drink before this became a good idea? It's like someone took Rosie O'Donnell and made it harder to see her naked.
