To call this girl a boring bang would be the understatement of the damn millennium. I'll put it this way: If you combined a gender studies course with the PGA, you'd still need a 3 hour Al Gore audio book and jumper cables to match pulses with this fucking corpse. You've been warned.
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]
I've never seen Gianna cave before, no matter how big the cock. It's as if her vaginal canal is made of Teflon, with more square footage than James Van Der Beek's forehead. But after watching this, I'm not so sure.
I've actually seen [this girl] before, but never getting ragdolled like Jeff Bezo's disposable income. Maybe when she's done finding herself, she can sign up for a safer hobby. Like glassblowing. Or teaching mountain lions yoga, for example.
Turns out fertilizing your own family tree isn't the only extra curricular activity people practice in Frogballs, Arkansas. Just don't be misled by The Rat King's lack of hygiene; Your respect for the modern day alpha male begins here and now.
All kinds of fucking disturbance going on here, but the girl hyper gooning next to the 3rd editions of Goosebumps soft covers should probably get an award or an all-expenses paid trip to the Vagisil aisle at her local RiteAid or something. Those carpets look filthy.
Well shit, the only other time I've seen someone this determined to self-harm was browsing the /terraluna subreddit. And much like her inability to pass a gonorrhea test, I think it might be time to pack it up and find a safer hobby. Like collecting Pokemon cards, or building hydrogen bombs for example.
What's mine is yours. And what's yours makes her think walking away from that 4-year degree in Anthropological Gender Studies of Amazonian Tree Frogs to do this instead was a bad idea.
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
Impressive method acting on his part to be honest. He's got that 'my mother, sister and John Deer push mower are all the same person, so I listen to The Black Eyed Peas on vinyl' look down to a science. Unrelated question: Does gonorrhea cancel itself out if you get it twice? Asking for a friend.
[what you know]: Anyone that's had a TV on after 1:00AM between the years 1997 and 2003 are still trying to get this fucking theme song out of their heads. [what you don't know]: Doug "hobgoblin" Stanhope had the approachability of post-nut clarity Clint Howard. I demand a reboot.