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.
Lispy the 'racist camera man' teaches us a new word and turns an anal scene into a hilarious cluster fuck. The music is a piece by Mozart and the title translates to "lick my ass"; seemed fitting.
I don't think that title and/or thumb truly convey the crossover that's about to happen here. But if it costs $50,000 to get an 8 pack of Oscar Mayer's uncured wieners into a female's dung funnel, then life is no longer worth living. Inflation did this.
Flipping the Minnow, Clubbing the Chimp, Procrastabating, Shaking Hands with Bruce Willis - Call it what you want. I refer to it as the only reason to leave the house other than to stock up on Mr. Pibb and fried dough. Shoutouts to feminism for empowering these women.
Today we learn three crucial things, so grab your colored pencils and pay attention: #1: Voyeurism is alive and well #2: Sexual misconduct is always negotiable. And #3: Lifetime bans from Macy's aren't a big deal. Lets get it.
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.
Her claim to fame is deplorable... but when the clothes come off her barbarian hips look like they can survive giving birth to Danny Devito and it's fuckin' beautiful. 5/5 Yelp stars, would eat again.
3.5 minutes worth of reasons to never take your pants off without agreeing to the terms first. Especially the Lily Phillips clip. Two years later and somehow this specimen keeps managing to produce videos that would put a Victorian citizen into a coma.
I've sat through 8 billion brother fucker storylines, the desecration of an icon and whatever the fuck this is. That being said, it's comforting to know I can still find astonishment in the super weeb fever dream you're about to witness. Good luck.
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.
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.
