We got a pretty diverse group of fatherless degeneration this time around. Whether it's Discovery Channel's new poster girl at the 0:35 second mark, or the champ going for his 17th title at 4:20, you're guaranteed at least one reason to start day drinking again.
Meet Trent Gates, A self-described 22 year old powerbottom twink that runs a website that features helpful how-to's, info, videos and even an entire community based around cutting off your genitals.
Take a girl with some obvious daddy issues, throw her in a room with some pussy hungry guys who are into brutality, and what do you get? A very happy and very sore vagina. I think we should give them weapons for round 2.
The 70's were a special time in history where no one gave a fuck. Smoking in hospitals, untamed pubes, sexually harassing midgets at the workplace, and faking a cum shot with a limp penis and shampoo? No problem. Nothing was sacred.
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.
A couple of yahoos get caught mashin potatoes during happy hour. Not very conspicuous about it either. Remember that one weirdo in school that always dropped his pants to the floor in front of the urinal? This is what happens when he grows up.
We had to go back, way back and deep into the pornography archives of the 1970's. All those hours of sifting through pale, over exposed bodies and bush was worth it to uncover this beautiful forgotten gem.
What's hung like a Clydesdale and knows less words than a Pokemon? He's known simply as Vlad, and 37 states require a permit to walk around with that fucking thing in public.
Giantess hand fetishes, assholes sponsored by Nickelodeon Gak and even a sneak preview of Street Fighter 6's in game graphics. This video has more diversity than a community college... but the shame. You can't graduate from that. [PART I]
If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
Based on a true story about a peanut butter sandwich, the dangers of masturbating, and how Aunt Opal made her nephew a man. A man with issues needing life long therapy, but a man none the less.
