One of the shittiest XXX films I've seen in my time... edited down to a cool 60 seconds. It's nothing amazing but fuck... it's got a plot revolving around accusations of sheep sex and worse acting than a Segal flick. How could I not post it?
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.
I don't know why anyone would post such things of themselves onto such a terrible place as the internet, but whatever! Come ride the shit train with me on a journey into the awful side of amateur pornography.
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.
Today's episode isn't about the money. It's about sending a message. Specifically to the derelicts that have used the Riemann hypothesis and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture to justify paying for what you're about to see: Stop it. Get some help.
FORNICATION: It's pretty basic stuff. But for Goober McAutismo over here it might as well be mission impossible. What you're about to see may quite possibly be the worst excuse for sexual entertainment that's ever made it online... and that's coming from someone who sat through all 74 minutes of Edward Penishands. Twice.
I was gonna tag one girl as "Funky Town" to see how many newcomers Google themselves right off the Internet, but I choose a more honorably path. So what did we end up learning today? Sharp objects and SNES soundtracks work extremely well together. That's what. Support cyclo-boob [HERE]
To all 19 active female viewers of this site: Break out the newtons and take some notes. This is what you DON'T DO to avoid becoming official Efukt alumni.
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.
I can't imagine what life decisions lead to your obituary being littered with the words "twerking" and "public nuisance" and "30,000 volts". But I'm betting it involves the neighbor's parakeet, and all 16 delicious flavors of Rice-a-Roni. (fuck you Rice Pilaf)
Becky Bagels foolishly thinks her road trip to the swampland is going to be an uneventful one. That is, until her travel guide delivers the kind of backdoor beatdown that insurance companies are suddenly starting to add in-network coverage for. Many such cases.
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. Half girth, half Pokemon.
