No, seriously don't. Every once in a while pornography life overlaps into real life lessons. Let's just be glad this learning experience was made possible without the assistance of Czechoslovakian accents, and a petting zoo.
My gut instinct tells me the era of slasher movies is dead when the practical effects guys start taking on jobs like this. The Friday the 13th reboot was bad. Cult of Chucky sucked. The new Halloween might work... but nothing can prepare you for this alternate ending to Fire in the Sky.
Imagine reaching a point in your life where fantasies just aren't doing it for you anymore, so you unleash an even deeper mental illness and create some sort of hybrid, cabbage patch fuck dance home videos and think not hiding your identity is a good idea. This is that point.
Layin' pipe only has a few rules: 1) Look as little like Harvey Weinstein as possible 2) develop stamina and 3) maintain an erection harder than a bowl of Campbell's tomato soup. Not exactly a difficult list... but this Khokhol is determined to challenge at least 2 key items today. GG NO RE
I've sat through 8 billion brother fucker storylines, the desecration of an icon and whatever the fuck this is. That being said, it's comforting to know I can still find astonishment in the super weeb fever dream you're about to witness. Good luck.
I'm all for experimentation (specifically in Home Depot's garden accessories section), but for real... like Jerry's Final Thought real: Eventually this behavior is going to end up with a perforated colon the size of Gary Coleman and then it's GAME OVER YEEEEAAHH.
Don't let the plot line(s) fool you. This goofball's bloodline persona is about as real as KFC's employee hand-washing policy. Such as illustrated after her 'brothers' attempt at fucking the hippie out of her. Possibly produced by the Coen brothers.
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.
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.
This one starts out as your typical day in Okinawa, but it looks like there's a tinge of legitimate concern before the credits roll. Guess it's just another one of those unfortunate side effects from engaging with a part of the world that considers mixed martial arts a form of roleplay.
