Darrell spent a year talking his wife Nikki into giving swinging a shot. She finally gives in and it does not go to plan. To add insult to injury, the whole humiliating ordeal is captured forever in some shitty pseudo-documentary.
This is a look into a pagan sex cult turned rock band called "RockBitch". A sex commune living in a monastery that created a music and stage show that's kinda like a feminist rage against the machine meets an all out orgy. More Info HERE.
Not only did this happen live, but she nailed the mythic trifecta: Dry-docked a Russian without a gun to her head, hit the sour cream & onion griddy & did it all with her BF 20 feet away. It's not every day we find girls worthy of an all-expenses paid trip to Red Robin... but she's here.
Not the caliber of female I expected to see on the angry side of Simon Belmont, but I'll roll with the fantasy. Unfortunately there's no aftermath footage, but I would have to imagine by the time this was over it looked like she masturbated with a stick of dynamite.
Ya know for a girl that's spent this much time in tattoo parlors, you'd think a forehead big enough for UBER to charge $17 to go from nose to scalp would get a little bit more attention. Then again, something tells me rational thinking isn't one of the tenants of someone who writes "when I fuck i dont give a fuck" 6 inches away from their shitter.
Every so often I come across an individual that makes me ask: How much tarantula fucking middle aged misguided trailer park moonshine did they drink before this became a good idea? It's like someone took Rosie O'Donnell and made it harder to see her naked.
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down Milli Vanilli's splash damage was the last fucking thing I had my bingus card. Watching a stranger crack your s/o's purple turkey just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, anytime someone makes middle aged women squeal like a 2 for 1 HomeGoods sale, eyebrows are raised.
First time I've seen a wife rental video where the girl and her hired gun are left more humiliated than the husband. 7 1/2 inches of New Orlean's finest essentially left them completely mute, save for some sobbing that is usually reserved for the customer service desk at Lululemon. Hilarious.
Around the 1:50 mark she denies a handful of the colonel's secret recipe. Uh uh. If that's her idea of cutting back on carbs, I'd love to know how she celebrates Thanksgiving. But the real question is: How many 2-for-1 Golden Corral coupons does it take to make this transaction possible?
It's all giggles until you hit 5:15. My advice? Be less worried about token counts and more concerned with whatever off-road vehicle ran that thing over and fled the scene. The fuck is going on down there? And more importantly, how many Tremors movies are we up to now?
