It may not be explicitly written in the rule book, but there's only one translation for the body language on the girl going Milli Vanilli on herself. And it exists somewhere in between "Car Batteries Are Not Sex Toys" and "Oops My Asshole Fell Out".
No, seriously don't. Every once in a while pornography life overlaps into real life lessons. Let's just be glad this learning experience was made possible without the assistance of Czechoslovakian accents, and a petting zoo. You don't want to see the things I've seen man.
When it's a girl's first time doing hardcore porn and she's too nervous on camera to put two syllables together, you get what I imagine to be the closest experience to fucking a corpse you can have without taking a trip to the morgue. Luckily the awkwardness only makes me harder.
So, who's really to blame here? The horse farm that secured their perimeter to keep her away from the livestock, or the guy with 4 Q's in his name that's keeping her on a 1-token drip for the past 4 hours?
What happens when you try to clone Mike Tyson, but the machine takes the eggplant emoji seriously? Sorry, but that specimen needs to be noted here. Was it's purpose to inflict maximum damage, or an aerodynamic choice to reach a new velocity?
Ratchet is what you get if a "ghetto hood rat" and a "chicken head" have a fatherless child that becomes a stripper or aspiring rapper with Tupac quotes for tattoo's and eight ratchet kids of their own.
It seems Allie Addison's apprehension levels are at zero, giving her little trouble with broski's maximum depth potential. And by little trouble, I mean the kind of potential organ rearrangement Art The Clown would be proud of.
Homing in on the 10-clip anniversary of offensive sexual acts among a global pandemic, and yet I remain hopeful. I mean hopeful that people in quarantine will continue to produce more reprehensible content than a Harvey Weinstein video library, not the Covid stuff - we're fucked. Like the guy in the first clip: Fap until it goes dark.
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.
If there's one thing that never fails to flat-line a hardon - It's how far Japan is willing to go gate keep the title of Commander of Repulsive Sex Acts. So here's one that won't be getting beat any time this decade. Reddit gags, I laugh, You bookmark.
Over the course of 15 years, I've tried saving the word epic for oddities that truly work for the definition. And let me tell you friends: If an emotional beat down of a daddy-issued ketamine-lifer doesn't earn it, the 4-inch race-rampage in the final act will lol.
