A car full of Canadian hooligans armed with a VHS camcorder stumble upon a lady of the night that likes to show off the brown eye. Honestly... for someone that hasn't wiped their ass since 1993, her cornhole surprisingly didn't look all that bad.
Someone somewhere thought it would be really great to make a 70 minute porn film set in the Victorian era about a guy with a dick for a nose. Today we honor men like that and the amazing master-pieces of shit they produce.
She's having problems of the ovarian variety and it's about to fuck your day up. My defense? eFukt lacks videos for the female demographic. You already know where this is going.
This actually starts off as a painal vid, but much like Cuba Gooding Jr.'s acting career, that only lasts for about 14 seconds. From there on it's all pleasure, and by 'pleasure' I mean nervous system-disabling assgasms so hot even Stephen Hawking would pop wood.
Great box. Decent tits. But fall into whatever wet dream they paid her $47.00 to roleplay in here and you'll be left with a ball bag more shriveled than Iggy Pop. It's a sexual combination that doesn't seem to concern these freaks. Big Cringe = Big Dollas. And Big Dollas = Unlimited Crest White Strips. You'll see.
♫ I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine ♫ I got a love and I know that it's all mine, oh, oh-oh ♫ Do what you want but you're never gonna break me ♫ Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me, oh, oh-oh
Our boy successfully pulls off one of the audibles taught in Bang: More Lays in 60 Days, but the tables quickly turn on him. From then on it's a battle of egos as this greenhorn frolics through her first rear admiral'ing like it's a full body massage. There won't be a sequel.
[what you know]: Anyone that's had a TV on after 1:00AM between the years 1997 and 2003 are still trying to get this fucking theme song out of their heads. [what you don't know]: Doug "hobgoblin" Stanhope had the approachability of post-nut clarity Clint Howard. I demand a reboot.
You can brag about your male pattern baldness all you want homeboy. But if you're not turning all vaginas within a 3 mile distance into your own personal bowl of Hungry Jack Mashed Potatoes, are you even living the Costanza?
Not really surprising from a girl that calls herself Wisconsin Tiff, but the alternative medicine excuse for this behavior immediately goes out the window. Can't even blame the moon lettuce and it's sibling psychedelics for this digital footprint.