Tori Spelling's Guatemalan tit job, the hole in a Walmart bathroom stall and discounted Hamburger Helper on Craigslist: Three things I'd touch before signing up for story time from Rebel "my brain is bigger than my butthole" Lynn ever fucking again.
I think this could be the downtrodden, meth-addicted little brother of the Reading Rainbow guy. They call him Black Salami and he's going to show us things.
Today we go on a spirited journey to a time forgotten; Behind the scenes of your average 2004 porn shoot. Special shoutout to Julian for being a role model during my college years. That man's lust for turning fallopian tubes into tier-3 tuna casserole should have earned the Martha Stewart seal of approval.
Behind the scenes of a classy title like "Lesbian Bukkake #8" is something like you could never imagine. Ever wonder what it's like behind the scenes? Probably not, but sometimes these thots fail in epic fashion and it's hilarious.
What's mine is yours. And what's yours makes her think walking away from that 4-year degree in Anthropological Gender Studies of Amazonian Tree Frogs to do this instead was a bad idea.
There's really nothing more emasculating than getting taunted over your sexual inadequacies, save for maybe your mom walking in on you as you spank it to Robin Williams in Jumanji. The point is... Jumanji is a great movie and unfairly disregarded.
Not since walking into a waffle house at 2 AM have I seen such disrespect for the lower half of a female. And just like the riot that ended that night, the producer of this shit show is not letting $39 worth of dessert cake go to waste.
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.
She's got the looks, she's got the body and she definitely has the talent. She can also use her vagina to keep your subs warm and hang a coat. Now she's stealing our hearts. Duck Tales. A woo ooh.
Another posse of preoccupied partially sentient protagonists wondering if they could but never questioning if they should. These things would have never happened if they just gave Jeff Goldblum the Oscar.
