If you thought we were going to make it through 3 volumes of woman decorating their reproductive systems with everything that isn't bolted down at Home Goods, and not get a single appearance by the only pornstar that could land a Dyson sponsorship; you thought wrong. And quite frankly, I'm a little disappointed. Also RIP Rowdy Piper.
There's just no hiding from your past once you pull the trigger on something like this. Their Ross Store wardrobes will be forever stained. The regret can't be washed off. And the $27 paycheck isn't enough to drink the memories away. #crankthattherapist
To fully appreciate this, first watch [Part 1] + [Part 2]. This guy isn't just any mope. This is Corn - the likely autistic, positively virgin pornstar that partook in 114 bukkake shoots, 113 of which the beneficary of his cumshot was a cement wall. Starting to understand the significance of the title?
The finest collection of eardrum destroying, vomit inducing orgasms you'll wish you never saw. Emphasis on the whole wishing you never saw this shit part. One dude nuts so hXc that he actually ruptures a fucking blood vessel and spurts red. 2.15 mark. You've been warned.
Discounted Rice-a-Roni, a Dwayne Johnson body massage and joining a Chick-fil-A protest: All things I'd willingly commit to before slapping a ring on Jasmine Bryne. Pay attention boys and remember: One day it could be half of YOUR Amiibo collection.
A laptop dancing internet stripper takes her fapping to the streets. Only problem is a viewer tipped off building security and her guerrilla sexual tactics are gonna get cut short.
If your social skank score is measured by the amount of times your bare ass has been caught on CCTV, I'd say these highway hoebags are sitting somewhere between "Code Orange" and "Threat to Society" Now, DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE YOU GO
Much like Robocop 1-3, this goes from mildly erotic to fucking horrible pretty darn fast. Tipping point involves a Cambodian that apparently tried to high-five a weed wacker.
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)
