Kinda want to emphasize those gravity bags reaching maximum velocity around the 5:00 minute mark. Jell-o has spent over 100 years trying to market physics like this and have failed miserably in comparison. Turns out all you need is a 1-bedroom apartment in Latvia and a c-section scar to make math fun again.
So, this is the new standard for getting attention? Terrorizing unsuspecting civilians with your prescription flavored genitals and "oopsy'ing" ur way through milk toast sexual acts? Points for the self-awareness though. It adds a little depth to my upcoming biography aptly named: Sex, Drugs & Brain Damage
Dudes that look like half-evolved Animorphs, Jurassic Park fetishizers and turning a 2 liter into a condom. And they are all getting laid on a regular basis. I'd suggest you let that sink in, but... the mud is already too deep.
The farther below the equator you go, the crazier behavior you'll find. A novel concept, and one that's officially reinforced by the pair of donut glazers walking the streets like it's fucking fashion week. Just being an observer might give you Hep-C.
Scene's over and it's time to go home... but first this starlet has a complete mental unraveling. Her tears and plight do little more than generate awkward lulz and kill the mood for the next girl.
Normally it takes an incestuous story line and at least a $5 subscription and a gift card to Starbucks to get [Arabell] on the wet end of an average penis. But today is SPECIAL.
Breaking traditional workout regimes, NASA-sponsored ejaculations and Skynet inching ever closer to harvesting our organs through the channel of A.I. powered sex transformers. If the next 8 minutes doesn't shine a more positive light on your life, nothing will. I'm here to help.
Looks like someone crossbred Rosario Dawson with a howler monkey and gave it rabies. But this isn't for the lulz... more about awareness. You honestly don't even need video for this. The soundtrack alone is enough to keep my Bugle Boy cut-offs on the rinse cycle.
"they not like us"; It seems to be the mantra on autopilot for half the planet right now. Most semi-coherent adults would never equate the term to needing NASA engineering to put the insides of your asshole back together again. But then 6:52 happens. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-] [-8-] [-9-] [-10-]
Three years later and it seems [our boy] has ditched the mashed potatoes recipe and moved on to crafting a signature carne asada. ¿Felicidades mi amigo?
