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?
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.
Only so many things could explain such a bizarre video. I assume the lead male or the director was on drugs, but most likely everyone on set had to be on something.
Today we're gonna look back into the history books. Our lesson includes everything from unadulterated violence, more than 5 flavors of that authentic shagged bush and even an appearance from an unlikely celebrity from day's past. A man that was taken way too soon.
See the thumbnail? Get used to making that face. For you're about to meet a woman with enough human-grade roast beef to end global hunger. I never finished medical school... but it's my professional suggestion she uses the $47.00 paid for this scene to buy a pair of hedge sheers on the way home.
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)
It's feminism month, and to celebrate we're going to have a peek at the standard protocol for dating in Colombia (or so I'm told). Technology has gifted us the ability to see this in real time and saved millions of curious Carlos's from contracting their own case of jungle butt crabs. Surprisingly every one of these girls is a USA 10, so plan your spring break accordingly.
Some "feels" I am glad I will never experience in life. Driving the speed limit, menstrual cramps, bamboo fingernail torture, or when a unlubed and unwelcome penis randomly kicks open the door to the house of pain.
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.
