18 semesters of Namibian dance theory paid, and this is how you return the favor to ur parents, Becky? u r a disgrace to the once great town of Ballbag, Nebraska.
That's weird. Last I heard Mardi Gras had devolved into something that closely resembles a Safari that was open to the public once a year like The Purge. But after closely evaluating said video I beg to differ. It's really more of an aquarium.
Not sure where the "confirmed" part comes from but we can assume that room smells like a balanced mixture of old rolling papers and soggy banana peels.
It seems Beckylina was interested in a light snack, but Cornelius had other plans. Plans in the form of the family feast meal and complimentary side dishes in fact.
Not sure what the attraction to making this kind of content is, but it may have something to do with Jossepi's double serving of all American beef. Just a hunch.
Broken dialogue and dimly lit sexual acts that would be embarrassed to find themselves in a McDonald's drivethru. Name is unknown, but when she's not getting rushed down at 4" per minute she watches Hallmark channel. Probably.
Seems nice. The type that'd cook artisanal Beefaroni on the 1st date or volunteer a BJ when ur TikTok gets 20 views. Men want that. They rly do. But not like this.
Supergirl gets the director's cut we've all been waiting for, the French prove that giving up is never an option and that giraffe neck havin mother fucker in the last clip single handedly puts an end to the skinny jeans market. All this and more...
Not even an ounce of hesitation either. That corn husk has definitely missed it's fair share of schedule maintenance intervals, but it's still running like the day it was bought. In other words: Mom's gonna be driving it until the wheels fall off.
Considering where the bar now sits in Hollywood, she may have very well been in contention for an Oscar or two. The Ink Master rabbit hole said otherwise though.
Started at the bottom, now we're here. And by here I mean vigorously being tested for sexually transmitted diseases because Derrick from the Walmart parking lot insisted on not using any form of protection during his big moment.
Honestly, I'm shocked. And by shocked I mean quietly contemplating how much longer it will take social media to completely remove all empathetic reasoning from the human genome. Direct all your body fluids accordingly. More [here]
If only the avg girl put this much effort into carving out an a-hole that belongs in a museum, maybe I wouldn't be talking to a therapist about my sexual attraction to Reese's peanut butter cups this weekend. E-books will be written about this.
Classic move, but one that's gonna need more practice if it's going to give Limpin Larry enough motivation to erect the other half of his penis. #cialis. Look into it.
She looks like a sweet girl. The kinda woman that would have a homemade bowl of Gaspacho ready for you after a long day of work. Anyway [heres] her chowing down on this dudes bag like its hiding grammas old fashioned marmalade recipe.
The more cringe the girl, the further they have to go for attention. A simple concept officially reinforced by this 97lbs of solid Slavic skankarooni. I'll put it this way: watching this forced me to drink Kettle One again. It's that kinda Caucasity.
The title may be bs, but at least it's not A.I. An unfortunate level of acceptance our dystopian future has waiting for us when it comes to waxin the carrot. Almost as depressing as that spine tattoo acting as a roadmap to her Hersey Kiss faucet.
This dude's entire account is littered with pseudo public encounter setup videos. Which is really kinda crazy because it would be cheaper/easier to hang around a Skidrow Walmart for 14 mins a day & let nature run its course for "tha khantent".
The $12.00 Party City costume-infused 'therapist' is Bronwin Aurora. Not sure about the costar. Maybe she should advertise that skidmark maker a little bit harder and we won't have that disparity in the future? I'm here to help.
Having a body carved out of the imagination of every coomer gremlin on the planet working around the clock in some sort of jerk off factory almost makes up for dancing like an inebriated sturgeon that landed on a patch of grass. Almost.
