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?
When it's a girl's first time doing hardcore porn and she's too nervous on camera to put two syllables together, you get what I imagine to be the closest experience to fucking a corpse you can have without taking a trip to the morgue. Luckily the awkwardness only makes me harder.
She seems like a nice girl. The type that would throw herself off a post office rooftop if you missed her text, or fuck the mailman's chihuahua if your Instagram pic got 0 likes. But her taste in recreational activities? Shit, I've seen happier faces cleaning toilets at the Renaissance Fair.
Some men need oral stimulation to get off. Others, a $20 shopping spree at Buffalo Wild Wings. And then there's this Vlad the Impaler lookin' mother fucker who needs nothing more than basic silverware to send his himself over the big-O rainbow. Hint: May be better enjoyed while listening to this classic piece.
A five minute crash-course on how to squeeze every moment out of your favorite side piece, as illustrated by the shameless, the morally-deprived, and the defenders of all things Insane Clown Posse. It's priceless information really. Trust me on this one.
It's that time again. The blurring of that line between majoring at a community college and female independence as illustrated by a sex act that's lead to more adult diapers than In n' Out's Animal Style. Never before has adult entertainment made me proud of the reward points I earned shopping exclusively at Walgreens.
Listen: If you delinquents keep spamming your entire loadouts before the first checkpoint is captured, I'm gonna have to turn this into an official series. That kind of uncontrollable pressure reminds me of a romantic moment involving myself, a $20.00 bill and the McRib. Let's just say mom's Plymouth Vista got a new interior paint job that night. [PART I] [PART II]
Pretty much the most perplexing acts of genital manipulation I've witnessed since marathoning all 47 volumes of SSBBW Ivy and Friends Videos. My voice matters today more than ever before.
So, who's really to blame here? The horse farm that secured their perimeter to keep her away from the livestock, or the guy with 4 Q's in his name that's keeping her on a 1-token drip for the past 4 hours?
See that rush of fear around the 3:00 mark? That's the kind of reaction second only to a man that has miscalculated his maximum capacity for P.F. Changs Orange Chicken in a public venue. And I think that's something we can all relate to. L, OH, fuckin L
The Oakland Doorknob. German Knuckle Cake. Mongolian Taco Punching. Not buying Bitcoin when it was 73 cents. It goes by a lotta different names. But the shame... thats always the same.
