At this point I'm not even questioning human behavior. The only thing separating all of us from being narrated by David Attenborough, are complicated sneakers and semi-automatic weapons. Turns out the Internet may have been a mistake after all. Parts: [1] [2] [3]
There's a very thin [blood]line between what's acceptable and what isn't in the world of semi-professionally produced porn. I'm not telling you I know where that line is. But I do know Fujisan Ned Flanders just fucking diddly doodly crossed it.
Remember that fat crybaby from one of the few episodes of The Maury Show that didn't involve the homeless giving handjobs in exchange for chicken mcnuggets? She had this uncanny ability to make hundreds of bad decisions in a row. Well, it appears she reproduced.
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.
That's it man. As far as I'm concerned vegans have officially jumped the plant-based shark. Not even at the height of one of my patented Acid Trip + Red Lobster Biscuit wombo combo benders did I envision something as despicable as this going behind a paywall.
What happens when you combine the biggest human fluid sponge on Earth, with a dwarf that refers to gangbangs as a family event? No really, I need an answer this time because even I had no fucking idea humanity was this far past the point of no return. Send help.
Perhaps 'audible' is the wrong word to use here, as it suggests this misfit anticipated the scene going any other possible way. She didn't. Trust me. I've been inside a Walmart parking lot on a Friday night - I know what I'm talking about.
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.
Consider this an open letter to the content creators out there: I will donate the $13.75 I made trading Krypto Kittys with down syndrome to a charity of your choosing, in exchange for promising to never use condiments on your wiener ever again. The balls are in your courts.
