That feeling when you realize a backdoor studio in Japan with a $300 makeup budget is closer to the source material of the Resident Evil games than any official movie and whatever the fuck crawled out of Netflix headquarters put together. 2 thumbs up, would Jill off into my sandwich again.
My gut instinct tells me the era of slasher movies is dead when the practical effects guys start taking on jobs like this. The Friday the 13th reboot was bad. Cult of Chucky sucked. The new Halloween might work... but nothing can prepare you for this alternate ending to Fire in the Sky.
What happens when you combine the biggest human fluid sponge on Earth, with a dwarf that refers to gangbangs as a family event? No really, I need an answer this time because even I had no fucking idea humanity was this far past the point of no return. Send help.
Symptom #67 that you've graduated from pornstar to full blown drama queen: 3 pumps from Manuel Ferrara's ham hog makes her tap out faster than the Frank Shamrock/Kevin Jackson fight (look it up). Like my reaction after hearing Oprah Winfrey wants to run for president, you can literally see fear in her eyes.
Just scroll to the 4:20 mark for the definitive highlight of this sacrilegious compilation of misguided deviants. Last time I saw self-harm this determined was in a max-coping GME thread on wallstreetbets. And much like his/her ability to hold in a solid, I think it's time to pack it up and admit defeat. disclaimer: This is financial advice [you retard].
Today's episode isn't about the money. It's about sending a message. Specifically to the derelicts that have used the Riemann hypothesis and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture to justify paying for what you're about to see: Stop it. Get some help.
Let me tell ya something champ: I've seen some loathsome shit in my day: Tijuana farm hopping, suggestive photos of Willem Dafoe, and whatever that Ghostbusters reboot was. But this? This made me boil a pot of chamomile tea and tell my dick a bedtime story. [OP]
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.
