Aim for dry ground and let 'er rip. That's been the formula for centuries... until Krystal "i have standards" Steal showed up. You see, she has more apathy for body fluids than Paula Deen has for low fat potato chippies. Ever wonder what it would be like if KFC had an all-you-can-eat buffet? That's the kind of 'sounds fun but always ends bad' disappointment I'm talking about here.
I feel like this has some deeper meaning than a porn parody of the exorcist. I just awed at it like it was a Salvador Dali painting or some shit, trying to figure out how my existence had brought me to this point.
There's a thin line between trailer park erotica, and soul-deep emotional trauma. Where that line exists I don't know... but judging by the amount of dollar store tattoos I'm seeing on that body, I'd say this human Hindenburg sure as fuck does.
Ever wonder how these girls are able to accommodate penises large enough to legally require airbags? HINT: They take painkillers. Lots of 'em. And I'm not talking about the kind that leave you looking like the cover of Alison Arngrim's “Heeere's Amy". (look it up)
This one taught me two things: A) Breaking points are negotiable and B) Any case studies of being on the spectrum and in porn can now be cancelled. Dorkalina's got us covered.
Apparently this is common in the grottos of Nigeria. I'm not so sure about it's entertainment value though. Some will look at this and see the peak of female empowerment... all I see is a barbecue even Homer fucking Simpson himself would've RSVP to.
Bridge piercing, stomach tattoos and the occasional rush to the emergency room for soft tissue damage. May I be so bold to say I haven't seen this level of intensity since The Shining.
You know you're in the golden age of porn when someone consults Michael Bay for their scene. Too bad the novelty of implied homicide wears off pretty quick when you have to multitask cumshots with Die Hard 1.
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.
Found this gem in the Italian film "Capodanno in Casa Curiello", which roughly translates to "New Years at Grandpa's House". Think combining the gothic undertones of The Adam's Family with the threatening erections of Boogie Nights wouldn't work? You thought wrong faggit.
Prozac-deficient Internet hookers are a welcomed sight here at eFukt... but this post isn't about the daddy issues. It's about intensity. These temper tantrums cut deeper than Donald Trump's Twitter feed, and while that might not be saying much, I'm confident you'll be impressed.
Some wisdom I picked up during my 2 hour stakeout of a monster truck rally bathroom: You get what you pay for. And by the looks of those potato-sized welts taking up residence next to her shithole, I'd say this dude used Groupon at the time of service.
