Trying to convince your wife to participate in what can only be described as gathering of the juggalos that serves pasta salad? Bold. But her response? Giggling like she found an extra tender in her 4-piece. Relationships shlamationships.
Monetizing your vagina only has a few rules: Minimal trips to Home Depot, and keep the clitoris away from all things with the name "Husqvarna" on them. Not a hard list, but this MFC alumni decides to test fate another way, resulting in a semi-rage quit. GGNORE.
Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
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.
At this point I'm just respecting the hustle of being able to sell sex without ever being penetrated in front of a camera. Truly a spectacle in it's own right that leaves you trapped between vigorous masturbation or making a donation to the Shia LaBeouf Community College for the Gifted. [PART I] [PART II] [PART III]
I've seen things you people wouldn't believe... Attack weiners on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched cum-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. MORE: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-] [-8-] [-9-]
A baffling assortment of eccentric freaks so confusing out of place, you'll think you're watching the new Scream movie. There's a time and place for everything... except tag teaming a $1,000 dollar Queen's Blade figurine. That's a permanent no from me dawg.
Nothing here but people willing to be treated like the bed liner of Ford F-150 with 8 digits on the clock. Some even goes as far as to request moar dick. Complimentary forewarning: Any further into those monkey biscuits & this will technically be classified as a medical procedure.
2004: Facebook launches for the first time, Ashlee Simpson jigged her way into irrelevancy and this jovial mother fucker was using his power of aspergers to give second stringers a reason to show up on set. Half girth, half Pokemon.
AKA "The Ted Bundy Sex Doll Treatment". She was carefully sculpted by the loving hands of a master craftsmen. Made to be life like, made to look real, made for your loser uncle to fornicate with. Made to be destroyed. SAUCE.
I've sat through 8 billion brother fucker storylines, the desecration of an icon and whatever the fuck this is. That being said, it's comforting to know I can still find astonishment in the super weeb fever dream you're about to witness. Good luck.
