If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
You know at one point in time her dirt tulip at full pucker was still smaller than the cock of an Eskimo in January. I want to know where that footage is. And more importantly, the followup video of John McAfee announcing her as his running mate for 2020?
An all-minority female cast ultimately leading to me losing faith in life itself? You can go ahead and file this under The 2016 Ghostbusters Reboot of Porn. And Bill Murray can't save you this time.
That feeling when you realize a backdoor studio in Japan with a $300 makeup budget is closer to the source material of the Resident Evil games than any official movie and whatever the fuck crawled out of Netflix headquarters put together. 2 thumbs up, would Jill off into my sandwich again.
Were you also gifted the sexual prowess of a polar bear on methamphetamines at birth? Well that only leaves 1 path for you to take in life. So if you share this lady's disposition, consider alternatives to Tinder. I'm thinking Farmersonly, without the farmers. Feel me?
Commit to a blind date in the state of Florida, and I'd say you got about a 98% chance of matching up with a person that dispenses more threatening fluids than a Mountain Dew vending machine. And today my friends, you're gonna learn that the hard way.
Without looking up their robust discography, I'm going to say there's at least a 275% chance Insane Clown Posse wrote a song about this. Over/under anyone?
You gotta admire commitment in anything. This young lady was so devoted to the scene that when it came to anal, she soldiered through it. When it came time for the cum shot, she fellates his fecal flavored ram rod without hesitation.
