Meet the man whose penis looks more like a belly button with testicles. The man who gives credence to the old adage of "it's just cold outside", in response to why ones cock would be smaller than a vienna sausage.
The strange tale of how an alleged rapist wife beater got his penis severed and became a porn star. John Wayne Bobbitt has suffered every man's worst nightmare and accomplished most guy's wildest dream. [FULL STORY]
Congratz! Local Russian folklore states that if you are visited by the naked battle gypsy of St. Pete you will be forever blessed by good fortune. Don't look directly at her vagina though, or they say she'll curse you with impotence.
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.
Another vigorous pairing of perverted miscreants that would be better suited opening at the Gathering of the Juggalos instead of having freedom of choice in a semi-coherent society.
He says it's the best tip he's ever received but considering he's going to get fired for a 3 second blowjob... I'm not convinced. Also, never trust a girl who values her blowjobs less than what she tips.
Long before there was "help me stepbro!", there was "have you ever seen your mom naked?". The difference? People wouldn't (normally) contaminate a box of Kleenex's finest to radio shows. Social media was and still is our biggest evolutionary mistake.
You can brag about your triple digit IQ all you want bruh. If you're not using it to turn your asshole into a bowl of Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes it's about as useful as a hot shower is to this classic r-word.
If you're into the kind of overseas erotica that reminds you of force feeding yourself 9 seasons of Scrubs in hopes of seeing Elliot's death spiral into backdoor Max Hardcore porn... then this is probably for you. どういたしまして Dōitashimashite
There's a thin line between trailer park erotica, and soul-deep emotional trauma. Where that line exists I don't know... but judging by the amount of dollar store tattoos I'm seeing on that body, I'd say this human Hindenburg sure as fuck does.