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.]
Some women need a good meal and a text goodnight to reach their sexual peak. Others; a couple finger loops around the ole pastrami butterfly. And then there's [Vai] who will stop at nothing less than the full power of Optimus Prime to activate her O-face.
First the extra terrestrial, and now this Silent Hill sub-boss is getting more action on the field than the Minnesota Vikings? I don't know what the fuck is going on recently, but eventually this behavior is going to involve the fire department.
It's all giggles until you hit 5:15. My advice? Be less worried about token counts and more concerned with whatever off-road vehicle ran that thing over and fled the scene. The fuck is going on down there? And more importantly, how many Tremors movies are we up to now?
Amber Rayne climbs to the top of America's Most Wanted. Alanah Rae is in desperate need for Dr. Phillip. And the girl at the end has no officially listed name, and that's the bottom line because Stone Cold Steve Autism said so.
Pairing a guy that looks like he spends the weekend trading anti-lesbian meatloaf recipes over AOL chatrooms, with a girl that gets so purple she should be asking "where's Ronald?" doesn't seem like a contender for documentary of the year. But then you hear who's narrating it.
Is this still considered pornography? Or something that gets submitted to a performative art school as a final project? Because if you're waxin carrot to shit like this, it might be is definitely time for intervention.
I don't think that title and/or thumb truly convey the crossover that's about to happen here. But if it costs $50,000 to get an 8 pack of Oscar Mayer's uncured wieners into a female's dung funnel, then life is no longer worth living. Inflation did this.
Half of these participants would be better suited in the clearance section of Craigslist forgotten /erotic section. The other half might match you on Tinder if you try hard enough. Choose your fate. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-]
It's not even the fact that these fetishes exist. It's that some of these creaturas are banking a yearly salary after swimming through an Arby's dumpster for 3 minutes so Jungle Jack in Frogdick Mississippi can have beat off material for the week. We might not be in end times. But intermission was a long time ago.
Somewhere in the next 4 minutes you may ask yourself: What the fuck led to the creation of this? Amphetamines? Mental illness? An unhealthy addiction to masturbating with a Vitamix Explorian [2:20 mark] I don't know but... another sequel is most definitely in the works. [-PART 1-]
