Someone somewhere thought it would be really great to make a 70 minute porn film set in the Victorian era about a guy with a dick for a nose. Today we honor men like that and the amazing master-pieces of shit they produce.
Been a minute since we've seen this level of depravity. But of all the ways to "tELL mE uR fRoM nEw jErSeY wiThOuT tELLinG mE uR fRoM nEw jErsEy" this actually ranks #2 on the list. Our duo is still 1 deep fried oreo enema away from the gold medal. Shoot for the stars.
The legend with gigantic, fake wonky tits does her first porn shoot ever and she's about to learn pornography isn't all smiles and blowjobs. Nope. Sometimes it's about butt-plugs and pain.
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.
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?
I don't know what the fuck this thing is, but I'm pretty sure it's sentient and has enough work done to require an oil change every 3000 miles. Further proof that Elon Musk is the future.
One of these days I'm going to edit some OC home videos into this series. A spirited evening behind a Tim Horton's dumpster specifically comes to mind. She had the kind of lips that swung around like a basset hound's ears during a tropical storm. I never looked at recycling the same again. MORE: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-]
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.
idk what the fuck is going on in that last clip. But if that isn't the body type of a woman that's muttered the words 'i used dijon mustard as lubricant while losing my virginity to a neighbor's pontiac fiero' at Festivus dinner, idk what is. Now apologize to the laws of thermal dynamics.
Volume #5 in a collection of videos that Charlie Sheen would be ashamed to attach his name to. And without even a single appearance from a graduate of the Woodman School of Rectology, that's saying something.
