The 70's were a special time in history where no one gave a fuck. Smoking in hospitals, untamed pubes, sexually harassing midgets at the workplace, and faking a cum shot with a limp penis and shampoo? No problem. Nothing was sacred.
We had to go back, way back and deep into the pornography archives of the 1970's. All those hours of sifting through pale, over exposed bodies and bush was worth it to uncover this beautiful forgotten gem.
Tori Spelling's Guatemalan tit job, the hole in a Walmart bathroom stall and discounted Hamburger Helper on Craigslist: Three things I'd touch before signing up for story time from Rebel "my brain is bigger than my butthole" Lynn ever fucking again.
Pretty bold behavior. But while you're in an eBay bidding war for the wet spot left behind in the 3rd video, I'll be reminiscing about the underground sludge deathcore viking metal show I saw last week. It went from casual music festival, to full blown AIDS epidemic when 1 reckless twat turned her vayjay into a full serve cock car wash. I YELP'd the venue 5-stars.
Based on a true story about a peanut butter sandwich, the dangers of masturbating, and how Aunt Opal made her nephew a man. A man with issues needing life long therapy, but a man none the less.
200 women, 500 men, an uncountable amount of dollar store tattoos and a dead ex-husband are just the tip of the cuntberg for this self-proclaimed 'human cockroach'. I do have to say though, that vagina is in remarkable condition for a lady that has more mileage than Al Bundy's Dodge Duster. [More Info = HERE]
If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
The more inbreeding in your bloodline, the further you'll go to seek sexual satisfaction. A simple concept, officially reinforced by whatever director's cut episode of Survivor Man is going on in that last clip. I'll put it this way; in comparison it makes Jeppson's Malort seem like a fucking delicacy. It's that abhorrent.
It's pretty unbelievable what kind of deals still exist if you're willing to put in the work and find them. No need to negotiate on price either. Just lay down your $27USD and let the all you can eat vaginitis begin.
free tip: Don't be fooled by the "i collect exotic toothpastes and I'm saving my g-spot for Sonic the Hedgehog" appearance. She may appear to be innocent, but this is no sex noob. Despite leaking more soft serve than a birthday party at Carvel, she actually did finish the scene.
The time has come for the followup of a story that will be told in the Internet history books. So strap in and prepare to have your yamaka blown the fuck off, cause we're going on a trip that involves domestic abuse, race rage white supremacy and about 937 reasons not to get married. [Part 1]
