LIFE LESSON #186: If your poker face is weaker than the walls of Alec Baldwin's rectum - stay the fuck out of the side-chick game. Last time I saw this level of angst in a female, I had to translate "yes, nickles are so a currency" into English for a Sudanese hooker. (thx Alexa)
She's got the body type of a holocaust victim and she came to the glamorous dog fart productions to film her first interracial anal scene. Srsly tho, "dog fart" has to be the fucking worst studio name in porno history.
Those crazy porn directors have made a full movie featuring the entire systematic sexual conditioning of ones daughter into a fuck buddy. All in magnificent POV. Disturbing? Sure. But is it fappable?
Somewhere in the next 4 minutes you may ask yourself: What the fuck led to the creation of this? Amphetamines? Mental illness? An unhealthy addiction to masturbating with a Vitamix Explorian [2:20 mark] I don't know but... another sequel is most definitely in the works. [-PART 1-]
This might eradicate any train-running fantasies you might have once had. But it will also peak your curiosity as to how Danny Glover spends a Saturday night with friends. It's what us Internet folk call a video that's perfectly balanced, as all things should be.
Do I even need to release a service bulletin at this point? Ladies; Next time you feel like exploring your options, put in about 18 seconds of research and mAniFeSt what you're about to get into. Maybe then you'll discover something you all lack - coherence motherfuckers.
Meet "Pimpin P" from Oklahoma. He's your average everyday abusive drug dealing pimp with nothing to live for. Here he is "doin' big thangs", which apparently translates to bullying a cross-eyed runaway into drinking piss and blowing his home boys.
Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Scene have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
There's a thin line between trailer park erotica, and soul-deep emotional trauma. Where that line exists I don't know... but judging by the amount of dollar store tattoos I'm seeing on that body, I'd say this human Hindenburg sure as fuck does.