If there's a book out there on what NOT to do during intercourse, I'd say this dude just paved the way for a fucking trilogy. Nevermind his Rosie O'Donnell-like figure, or his unsettling fetish for floppy disks. The real prize is at the 2.48 mark. Ladies and gentleman, this motherfucker just single-handedly brought back Planking.
Losing an 8 inch dildo in in a girls ass can have some consequences beyond fecal flavoring. If you can't get it out, the shoot is over and it's an awkward trip to the hospital with an unhappy porn star.
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
Backpage's finest goes by "daddy's baby anal queen" and she aspires for greatness via her butthole. The only problem is she hates anal and her possibly worm-infested colon is so tight, it's like trying to fit an elephant in a Safeway bag.
Skig tag? Krang from TMNT? Fuck if I know, but whatever it is... it totally rubbed up against the other dudes thigh at the 1.38 mark, causing a half chewed Bagel Bite to be ejected from my mouth and on to my Where's Waldo themed keyboard.
It may not be explicitly written in the rule book, but there's only one translation for the body language on the girl going Milli Vanilli on herself. And it exists somewhere in between "Car Batteries Are Not Sex Toys" and "Oops My Asshole Fell Out".
A special service bulletin for the female viewer(s). Next time you feel like exposing your rotten tator tot to the general public, read a couple chapters of Everything I Know About Women I Learned From My Tractor by Roger Welsch first. Maybe you'll find what's missing in your life.
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.
It's all giggles until you hit 5:15. My advice? Be less worried about token counts and more concerned with whatever off-road vehicle ran that thing over and fled the scene. The fuck is going on down there? And more importantly, how many Tremors movies are we up to now?
If you've ever powered through Fred Durst's 2019 classic "The Fanatic" then nothing will seem out of place. For the other 99.999% of the population: Prepare to be subjected to the kind of cringe Saturday Night Live has been filling their diaper with for the past 2 decades. And tits.
