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.
It's that time once again to highlight some special times in webcam hookerdom. Witness e-prostitutes having breakdowns, getting attacked by small reptiles and other awesome wtfness.
What happens when you let your BBC-obsessed husband talk you into the kind of Smackdown WWE would be jealous of? Here's a hint: You end up booking a legendary Iron Man match, but there's no winner.
Not since the 2005 release of 1 Night In Chyna have I seen a woman with such a fucked up misunderstanding of eroticism. She grunts like pirate, pisses all over the place, and has a finishing act that'll assfuck your brain cells.
Congratz! Local Russian folklore states that if you are visited by the naked battle gypsy of St. Pete you will be forever blessed by good fortune. Don't look directly at her vagina though, or they say she'll curse you with impotence.
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.
Today we're gonna look back into the history books. Our lesson includes everything from unadulterated violence, more than 5 flavors of that authentic shagged bush and even an appearance from an unlikely celebrity from day's past. A man that was taken way too soon.
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.
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.
