To call this girl a boring bang would be the understatement of the damn millennium. I'll put it this way: If you combined a gender studies course with the PGA, you'd still need a 3 hour Al Gore audio book and jumper cables to match pulses with this fucking corpse. You've been warned.
Did flashing interns at the local 7-11 becoming a challenge or something? Apparently this miscreant prefers the orifices less traveled. Specifically the ones small enough to give Tiger Woods anxiety attacks. C-L-A-S-S-Y.
The insane story of an emotionally disabled prostitute/pornstar/sugar baby/urinal-for-hire with HPV and herpes that literally wrote the book on being a whore - 9 times. She claims her dead sugar daddy made her a millionaire and now haunts her... wow.
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.
Sorry to all competing rookies out there trying to cover the Vagisil bill: This is the type of content you need to be producing now. Those glory days of not acting like somebody hooked a lawn mower battery to your fallopian tubes to get attention are over. Devon... get the Flex Tape.
Girls that agree to do porn + Refusing to take an ivory shower without a temper tantrum. An interesting combination, backseated only by Burger King's Quad Stacker + Charmin Ultra Soft. Sprinkle in a pinch of sexual anxiety and you got endless fap material my friends.
Admittedly an Internet classic by every definition, so chances are you've already squeezed a hog or 3 to this unfaithful slootanany. But I've never seen this edit before so release the pigs and let's retrojack again for old times sake.
Essentially a hybrid of a "Got Milk?" PSA & a GWAR concert. Or in more comprehensive terms: 1-part health consciousness, 274-parts batshit fuckin aspergers. #NEVERFORGET.
Who the fuck comes up with these hybrid fetish flicks? Next time you producers want to get creative, how about coating a machete in Zoloft and fucking Logan Paul up the cornholio until he's smiling like Matt Damon on the cover of Good Will Hunting? Google it.
Overzealous producer does the unthinkable: Asks his lead actress to inhale a blob of her own mother's farm-fresh protein. But instead of saving a minisecule amount of self-respect for her own golden years, she chows down like the Amazon gift card they paid her with was worth it. #HUMILIATION
For a minute there I was starting to lose faith in degenerate white guy's ability to keep me entertained. Then I was introduced to a fetish with more questions than Sylvester Stallone's medicine cabinet.
This is what happens when you allow women with less body weight than an anorexic chihuahua cross the line into extreme fetishes. Brain cells gets damaged, lives are ruined... all because some asshole couldn't jack his goldfish off in the basement like a normal 47-year-old man.
My gut instinct tells me the era of slasher movies is dead when the practical effects guys start taking on jobs like this. The Friday the 13th reboot was bad. Cult of Chucky sucked. The new Halloween might work... but nothing can prepare you for this alternate ending to Fire in the Sky.
Some will click this and see a beautiful human being. Others will acid bath their routers & set themselves on fire knowing they've achieved less vaginal supremacy than a guy commonly mistaken for memory foam. Choose your own destiny.
