Much like the Fast and Furious franchise, this series went from "what the fuck am I watching" to How do we get John Cena into one of these scenes? pretty damn quick. The tipping point involves Morgan Lee's last hurrah before someone convinced her to bootleg Lil Wayno songs. And no, you can't unsee that either.
Here's some wisdom I picked up while watching an infomercial for Tony Little's Gazelle Sprintmaster - always maintain good form. Sloppy form is how people get Christopher Reeve'ed. Don't think the same is applicable to sucking dick? Neither did she.
I don't know why anyone would post such things of themselves onto such a terrible place as the internet, but whatever! Come ride the shit train with me on a journey into the awful side of amateur pornography.
Some women require foreplay to get off. Others, Little Caesars 5 for $5.00. And then there's Jessica Carrboro aka The Crotch Vampire, who takes no less than a scoop of organic strawberry swirl to get moist. I say this with complete sincerity: You're not ready for her.
Whole lot of tomfoolery going on here. While most girls will accept the fate of the firing squad they kneel down in front of, there's always an exception. Today there will be 14 exceptions.
Browse the catalogue of Day-1 pornstars long enough and you're sure to end up finding women that treat getting hit with a couple of snowballs is akin to being put in front of a North Korean firing squad. And today my friends, there is no exception. More here.
What is the last bodily fluid you want to see halfway into a twin-sister green beaning? If your answer has anything to do with Teavana's seasonal flavors - you're only halfway there. But points are on the board. #gag
You know the drill; An assembly line of females willingly sign up for a chance at making it in the wonderful world of pornography, only to find out at the last second they wrote a check their taste buds can't cash. Emphasis on the last girl. You can scope the full(er) scene [HERE.]
You can brag about your male pattern baldness all you want homeboy. But if you're not turning all vaginas within a 3 mile distance into your own personal bowl of Hungry Jack Mashed Potatoes, are you even living the Costanza?
Compliments aren't my strong point, but I must say... chick in the yellow dress is fucking stunning. I'd readily eat Honey Nut Cherrios out of Philip Seymour Hoffman's crusty asshole just for a chance to hold her hand. Someone Russian please hook it up.
Essentially this is a public service announcement on the cons and cons of touring San Fransisco. Some will live to tell the tale. Others will merge with Skid Row through osmosis. But all will learn the defintion of of "Ordering the Portuguese Breakfast".
