Remember that fat crybaby from one of the few episodes of The Maury Show that didn't involve the homeless giving handjobs in exchange for chicken mcnuggets? She had this uncanny ability to make hundreds of bad decisions in a row. Well, it appears she reproduced.
Getting your meat bag blown out within shouting distance of a stranger's apartment is a bold move. One of superiority tbh. Nancy and her 19 cats will think twice about filing a noise complaint when this lands in her inbox.
Left side of thumbnail = Her first scene. Right side = Higher production than current marvel movies. She's Ander Ways and as we wrap up another year of questionable erections, I give you reason #28971 to never judge a book by it's cover. Unless it's whatever the fuck this is. Then feel free to judge judy until your foreskin grows back. I'm on drugs until New Years. bye.
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.
Alright fellas, [-take a memo on your Newton-]: If girls aren't flocking to your Levi's like 1 star reviews to the newest Disney remake, then this might be in your future. Just keep track of those subscription fees so reality doesn't hit harder than 1996 did to Robert Downey Jr.
The "Pepe le Pew" of porn finds out his costar is half an X-men with titanium rods installed on her spin. Woodman's response? An absolute fucking hurricane of verbal and physical assaulting that would make Chris Brown look like Charlie Brown lol.
See? Not every post here has to be about unsuitable bodily penetrations and the Montana residents that love them. Sometimes you gotta slow down and appreciate women that would charge $99.99 to drop ship you their fart jars. Ask me how I know.
Two semesters spent shotgunning Bud Light and using the sink as a toilet? No problemo. Thirty five seconds of experienced squabblenecking? Not a fucking chance. Ladies and gentlegenders - I present to you face of higher education.
Somebody in the original comments was yappin about no proof this is his first time. My main man; 3 seconds of glazing over this specimen's choice in facial hair, vocabulary and thinking CPR is a form a cunnilingus says otherwise. Peep another awkward rookie [here].
He came packing a mullet, social-awkwardness and the body type/skin tone of a marsh mellow with prescription glasses. But that day back in 1998, he was a hero for 10 minutes at a gentleman's club in Arkansas.
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down Milli Vanilli's splash damage was the last fucking thing I had my bingus card. Watching a stranger crack your s/o's purple turkey just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, anytime someone makes middle aged women squeal like a 2 for 1 HomeGoods sale, eyebrows are raised.
