Imagine making it to the last clip of this degenerate fever dream and still thinking everything's gonna be alright. We are six (or seven) kinds of fucked if this conduct continues. James Sunderland sends his regards. More of Scene 1 [HERE].
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.
A near senile senior citizen has the best day of his life at the expense of aspiring pornstar "Jane Doe", who realizes somewhere after the 2:00 mark, that porn just isn't for her and was never seen again.
Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
Dog The Bounty Hunter once told me the daywalker is one of, if not the most elusive creature on our planet. Decades of evolution have molded them to be some sort of cockroach/human hybrid. You'd think their survival skills would be S-tier, but all I got out of this was a lower credit score.
It's feminism month, and to celebrate we're going to have a peek at the standard protocol for dating in Colombia (or so I'm told). Technology has gifted us the ability to see this in real time and saved millions of curious Carlos's from contracting their own case of jungle butt crabs. Surprisingly every one of these girls is a USA 10, so plan your spring break accordingly.
First time squirters, prolapse-induced climaxes and bittersweet hategasms... today's vid has more variety than a fuckin Sizzler salad bar. Best comes last, so I recommend you see this one all the way through.
Pretty much a public service announcement on the importance of knowing your limits before inking a deal. Some live to tell the tale. Others, are memed for life. But all have an abnormally intimate relationship with Newport cigarettes and Klonopin before the age of 25.
Everything in life has a proper explanation if you open your mind. Except the homie trying to scrub daddy his dirty walnut on a Tuesday afternoon in broad daylight around the 1:45 mark. NORAD will hear about this.
It's not even the fact that these fetishes exist. It's that some of these creaturas are banking a yearly salary after swimming through an Arby's dumpster for 3 minutes so Jungle Jack in Frogdick Mississippi can have beat off material for the week. We might not be in end times. But intermission was a long time ago.
