True Blood's Sukki has a ratchet doppelganger that attempted porn and totally hated it. Her debut goes about as smoothly as a psoriasis break out... But unlike psoriasis she never came back and wasn't seen again.
Meet Scott Taylor. Today Scott is a well respected porn mogul, but that wasn't always the case. Flashback to the glory years of 1985 and witness the Billy Mays of penis pump salesmen.
A scene gets a little too intense for Lexi when her costar bitch slaps the valtrex out of her face. After which her costar turned assailant keeps asking her "are you ok?"
No matter what the cause, there are always attention starved hippies wanting to get naked in support of stuff. Eating meat, women's rights, fur, politics, the environment... No one cares... Everyone's here because some these naked bitches are hot.
A public service announcement on the cons and cons of searching for costars in Craigslist's general section. If their intimate relationship with $5 scratch off tickets doesn't erect your cock, the aroma of Newport Menthols probably will.
You know you had fun when the next day you wake up with a concussion and realize you not only left your phone, but you also forgot your clothes, underwear, sunglasses and self-respect at the club.
[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.
A five minute crash-course on how to squeeze every moment out of your favorite side piece, as illustrated by the shameless, the morally-deprived, and the defenders of all things Insane Clown Posse. It's priceless information really. Trust me on this one.
Show me a woman that puts this much emotion into her goose hole jabberwocky, and I'll show you the kind of 90-Day Fiance episodes actually worth watching. Now somebody knock down a retaining wall so big Ed can get his neck through the door, and lets start the sequel.
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.
This is what happens when you allow incels to explore live environments. Safe spaces are invaded, genitals get exposed - all because some guy who thinks Ethereum will be the world's currency couldn't get his weiner wet at the last box social and is now living a revenge fantasy.
