My first pay-to-play happened in a Burger King toilet stall. She was more Kurt Perry than Katy Perry, Kinda foul. Not even a triple replay of Heather Graham's bush in Boogie Nights changed the mood that night. But... if I had this guy's attitude? Life... life would be different.
Much like Cardi B's popularity, one has to question why this even exists in and how we got here in the first place. Emphasis on the Oscar-award winning method acting seen in the opening dialogue. Simply brilliant.
Two semesters spent shotgunning Bud Light and using the sink as a toilet? No problemo. Thirty five seconds of experienced squabblenecking? Not a fucking chance. Ladies and gentlegenders - I present to you face of higher education.
Reminds me of something my grandpa used to say: Your output is only as good as your input. Not since the the trailer for Terminator Dark Fate have I been so disgusted with women over the age of 40.
Most erections flatline after muttering the letters "ICP". Maybe even translate into an episode of syphilis or three. But not here. Enjoy this one slowly... for today Holly Hendrix proves without a shadow of a doubt that everyone with her last name is a natural-born musician.
See the thumbnail? Get used to making that face. For you're about to meet a woman with enough human-grade roast beef to end global hunger. I never finished medical school... but it's my professional suggestion she uses the $47.00 paid for this scene to buy a pair of hedge sheers on the way home.
I never understood it. The idea of penetrating a chain-smoking ex-con bus driver with 2 blob fish bolted to her chest may work for some of you jabronis in the western world - but not me. I have standards.
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.
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.
Every good film deserves 4 sequels... and many moons ago I stumbled upon a select few degenerates that give less fucks about 'dignity' and 'clean STD tests' than the roster of the 1970 Lakers. Venturing into dead meme territory, but the hole-to-hole acrobatics are worth a followup.
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
