Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea 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.
[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.
Amber Rayne climbs to the top of America's Most Wanted. Alanah Rae is in desperate need for Dr. Phillip. And the girl at the end has no officially listed name, and that's the bottom line because Stone Cold Steve Autism said so.
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".
Round #2 in a series that showcases the authentic side of some of our most interesting citizens. I'm not exactly sure what life choices have to be made to end up here, but it probably has something to do with blue checkmarks and whatever they put in those Impossible burgers.
Like the great Cosmosius of Kramer once said: It's a business of cornhole sodomy, nobody leaves. She's a seductress, she's a siren, she's a virgin, she's a whore. Also, she outlasted my prediction by 5 years. PART 1 HERE.
Today is my old man yells at cloud moment as I inform you that a two foot garden gnome being yoinked out of a woman's lower digestive system makes me feel like the golden age of adult entertainment is long behind us. They truly just don't make them like they used to. It's over.
Don't let the confidence in her voice fool you: This cholita's ability to withstand pain is about as real as her soggy pancakes in a pushup bra. As illustrated by his first, second and 17th attempt to keep a decent rhythm in her poo canoe. The end result? Well... you'll see.
I don't know what rally that last girl ditched to shoot this scene, but her hygiene makes about as much sense as the 43,000 volts she pretends are running through her labia every time a guy named Ranjeete slaps down 50 Rupees on her "PubLiC cUmShOWs" ala Chaturbate.
The amazing thing? Multiple people thought these were good ideas and put a whole lot of effort into them. I.E. the guy who had to cut a dick hole in a giant Wheaties box or the man controlling the giant octopus dildo tentacles.
Nothing gets an appointment with the clinic booked faster than going skin on skin with east Asia's most notorious time bender. So here's 4 minutes worth. That's right, four. As in the number of Abreva pills she'll need to take per day for the rest of her life after becoming a victim to Venkman's ectoplasm.
