Don't let the dollar store Botox and short circuiting while trying to multiply 2 numbers together fool you: This 1-wife circus act has paved a new way for women across the the globe. Such as illustrated by her conservative body count of 5-fucking-THOUSAND dicks entering her grease trap. Make sure you watch Part 2.
The strange tale of how an alleged rapist wife beater got his penis severed and became a porn star. John Wayne Bobbitt has suffered every man's worst nightmare and accomplished most guy's wildest dream. [FULL STORY]
This is actually a pretty accurate title, so brace your dicks 'cause you are about to meet a one hundred and ten pound girl with a fuck hole like a wind tunnel.
Layin' pipe only has a few rules: 1) Look as little like Harvey Weinstein as possible 2) develop stamina and 3) maintain an erection harder than a bowl of Campbell's tomato soup. Not exactly a difficult list... but this Khokhol is determined to challenge at least 2 key items today. GG NO RE
Consider this a 4 minute tutorial on why you should always stay away from those folks that consider a $50.00 Mernard's gift card a form of foreplay. Remember Norman Vincent's words: “Always shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll still land among the hepatitis."
The Spider-man of rope slinging is back and setting records Guinness refuses to recognize for some reason. Something about prosthetic nutsacs and bannable material. Well... he's legit and I have the research to prove it. [PART I]
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.
Undoubtedly the most erotic thing I've seen since the time my 19 y/o housekeeper cried 'no es bueno' after happening upon my unflushed shitter. Day before was Olive Garden night, fuckin Tour Of Italy. To quote Lil Wayne - I made it rain.
Not exactly the most unexpected chain of events from a class of people that come less prepared for war than whoevers handicap stall I invaded at Waffle House last week. Sorry Wheels, but the bucket in the janitor's closet simply doesn't meet my capacity standard.
You know you had fun when the next day you wake up with a concussion and realize you not only left your phone, but you also forgot your clothes, underwear, sunglasses and self-respect at the club.
Of all the ways to "tELL mE uR fRoM nEw jErSeY wiThOuT tELLinG mE uR fRoM nEw jErsEy" this actually ranks #2 on the list. Our duo is still 1 deep fried oreo enema away from the gold medal. Shoot for the stars.
