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.
Not everyone has this kind of affinity for high prioritizing siphoning the python over a meaningful long lasting relationship. That's cuz not everyone is this girl.
We've [seen] this [girl] before. And 27 million collective views later it seems she still hasn't figured out what a carbohydrate is. Prince Devitt would be vry proud.
Not every day someones title has me scratching all three nuts in bewilderment. But "Dumb Flashlight with Cow Tits" is a choice. Not even all 32 volumes of Encyclopedia Britannica are any help and my disappointment is immeasurable.
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.
Gotta respect a man that can make a white girl stop in her tracks faster than a Target clearance sale by simply removing his Nike Dri-FITs, and hangin' brain.
Gotta admit; That's some impressive distance being covered with each wad. If the rumors of breakdancing being replaced with this at the next Olympics games is true, we may be witnessing a gold medal contender here. Bring on the sponsors.
We're talking first OF video here, not first time breaking the seal on her unmarinated waffle stomped shit biscuit. While it still maintains spry elasticity, I'll bet dollars to donuts it has more miles on it than grandads prized El Camino.
If her facial expressions look familiar to you, then you too have felt the sweet kiss of Red Lobster's endless shrimp platter. A feeling taken from us all way too soon...
2004: Facebook launches for the first time, Ashlee Simpson jigged her way into irrelevancy and this jovial mother fucker was using his power of aspergers to give second stringers a reason to show up on set. I'm talkin half girth, half Pokemon.
Imagine coming home during the witching hour only to find your significant other kneeling down, thorax-deep on Jamal's chopped cheese. (The Harlem original)
