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.
Unlucky Spanish chick gets bashed in the butthole - full force, no lube! Prepare yourself. The level of agony herein is second only to Adele handcuffed to a stair-master.
She's junior college educated, has a rack to premature ejaculate for, and isn't afraid to slob on the knob after her partner takes a trip to cornhole city. Superintendent Jackoff & Co can hate all they want, this angel is a keeper. Read the story HERE. See her nastiest videos in the source.
Meet Allen. At almost 50 years old, he's never had sex and is on the verge of losing all hope. Now it's up to a $400 goth hooker with a heart of gold to help him lose his virginity once and for all... or will he fuck it all up?
[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.
Noob's first and final attempt at porn stardom lands him in a gang bang shoot. He doesn't care, he thinks he's ready for anything... but nothing can prepare you to be a premature ejaculator's innocent bystander. PEW PEW
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.
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.
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.
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.
Honestly this one could have rolled credits right after Donatello got his tits greased with tomato sauce and you'd still have an unwanted memory to try eradicating for the foreseeable future. But where's the fun in that?
