First he bulldozes her ass till his cock turns brown. Then he moves up an orifice and gives her twat some chocolate-coated TLC... which is pretty much guaranteed to result in a wicked case of vaginitis but lets not spoil the fun. All things come to an end after he asks the most amazing question ever uttered in a pornographic film - "who wants lasagna?"
Dude looks like he walked into a tattoo parlor and said "yes". Luckily he's hung like a brontosaurus to round out these constructive life decisions. Not sure I was expecting that twist at the end though. Kinda reinforcing the whole don't judge a book by it's cover thing, aren't we?
He came packing a mullet, social-awkwardness and the body type/skin tone of a marsh mellow with prescription glasses. But that day back in 1998, he was a hero for 10 minutes at a gentleman's club in Arkansas.
An awkward 120lb geek thinks he has what it takes to make his porn debut with a pornstar that can't math. But even with the deer in headlights look in his eyes, he somehow pulls off the incredible.
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".
Imagine making it to the last clip of this degenerate fever dream and still thinking everything's gonna be alright. We are six (or seven) kinds of fucked if this conduct continues. James Sunderland sends his regards. More of Scene 1 [HERE].
Meme Porn: Sometimes it's about as exciting as an audio book of Gordon Ramsay customizing a value meal at Burger King. But throw in a guy with 2 moms, pay him in dollar-store pastries -- and suddenly you've got more fapping hours than you'll know what to do with.
Some men need oral stimulation to get off. Others, a $20 shopping spree at Buffalo Wild Wings. And then there's this Vlad the Impaler lookin' mother fucker who needs nothing more than basic silverware to send his himself over the big-O rainbow. Hint: May be better enjoyed while listening to this classic piece.
He came packing a mullet, social-awkwardness and the body type/skin tone of a marsh mellow with prescription glasses. But that day back in 1998, he was a hero for 10 minutes at a gentleman's club in Arkansas.
Another edition featuring triflin' ass hoes, hood rats of all kinds and a singing crack head with erectile problems. They call him Uncle Jim and he can do any unskilled miscellaneous task for the low-low.
