The misadventures of "Cuck Finn" and his stallion, Andrew. Today they breed a mega whale-beast for recreation. Mistakes are made, disagreements are had and boners are killed over some "dumbass pictures". More Cuck HERE.
Everything in life has a proper explanation if you open your mind. Except the homie trying to scrub daddy his dirty walnut on a Tuesday afternoon in broad daylight around the 1:45 mark. NORAD will hear about this.
Todays menu: a.) girl manipulates dad into oral sex while mom contemplates suicide b.) leper fucks ass, leper's winky gets decapitated, leper continues to fuck ass anyway and c.) vintage porn, never fuck with a man that's just lost a game of Old Maid.
Honestly, after making it to the end of this $27.00 budgeted shit show I'm inclined to believe the historical artifact should have stayed forgotten. The full version is over an hour long and makes The Blair Witch Project look like it's part of the Scorsese catalog. I do not recommend.
She's got the looks, she's got the body and she definitely has the talent. She can also use her vagina to keep your subs warm and hang a coat. Now she's stealing our hearts. Duck Tales. A woo ooh.
If anything you should watch this for the last scene. In less than 3 minutes, this duo gave us enough character development, story twists and cliffhanger endings to last two seasons on Netflix. I will literally pay for the emergency room footage, DM me. Catch them live HERE.
Is this still considered pornography? Or something that gets submitted to a performative art school as a final project? Because if you're waxin carrot to shit like this, it might be is definitely time for intervention.
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.
Of all the story lines you could choose, expedited shipping would be last on my fucking list. Then again, so is paying autistic girls in gift cards to round out your threesome so maybe I don't see the vision. Perhaps decades of inbreeding and limiting toothbrush ownership to 1 per home has carved itself into a niche I can only describe as: Inflation-Friendly Walmart Porn.
What happens when you let your BBC-obsessed husband talk you into the kind of Smackdown WWE would be jealous of? Here's a hint: You end up booking a legendary Iron Man match, but there's no winner.