My first pay-to-play happened in a Burger King toilet stall. She was more Kurt Perry than Katy Perry, Kinda foul. Not even a triple replay of Heather Graham's bush in Boogie Nights changed the mood that night. But... if I had this guy's attitude? Life... life would be different.
Sorry to all competing rookies out there trying to cover the Vagisil bill: This is the type of content you need to be producing now. Those glory days of not acting like somebody hooked a lawn mower battery to your fallopian tubes to get attention are over. Devon... get the Flex Tape.
"Fuck me in the ass based god", reluctantly said the state puff marshmallow woman, as he thrusted his black penis deeper into her gooey marsh-mallowy hole.
Lulz tier verbal diarrhea from the worlds top whores. It's a good thing emotional scars aren't visible on the outside or some these girls would look like Freddy Krueger.
Sonuva bitch... dude's packing the kind of penis that can only be described as "an emergency every time I have to take a piss". Time to call up AARP and find out what size wheelbarrow they're willing to cover for this kind of disability. Something in a dual-wheel polycarbon should do it.
A public service announcement on the cons and cons of searching for costars in Craigslist's general section. If their intimate relationship with $5 scratch off tickets doesn't erect your cock, the aroma of Newport Menthols probably will.
It's hard being a 425 pound Mexican pornstar with a cock comparable to that of a newborn Chinchilla. Everyday you risk a potential heart attack, difficulty wiping your ass after dropping a deuce and.. oh yeah, completely fucking missing during a facial scene despite being quite literally 3 centimeters away. Ay, Carumba!
There's just no hiding from your past once you pull the trigger on something like this. Their Ross Store wardrobes will be forever stained. The regret can't be washed off. And the $27 paycheck isn't enough to drink the memories away. #crankthattherapist
Human Toilets & The Non Fungible Assholes. No, that's not the name of the next great Portland garage band, however the post-view flea bath is still required. The smell of Drakkar Noir and Astro Glide may come out of those walls, but... the stories. The stories are forever.
