For a woman that willingly had oxygen-depriving brain damage inflicted upon her, I gotta say she's pretty upbeat about the whole free for all group sex thing. 347 movies before hitting the eject button is no easy feat either. Especially during an era of pornography when 98lbs was considered obese.
Today is my old man yells at cloud moment as I inform you that a two foot garden gnome being yoinked out of a woman's lower digestive system makes me feel like the golden age of adult entertainment is long behind us. They truly just don't make them like they used to. It's over.
One of those rare moments where I can overlook the obvious health code violations because the performance is legendary. Be sure to leave them a ★★★★★ Yelp review. Something along the lines of: Service was fast. Getting pubic lice was faster.
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.
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.
What's life's greatest mystery? god? aliens? why Lionsgate allows Tyler Perry to continue directing films? How about how the fuck this 46 year old poster boy for NAMBLA managed to pull a Russian model half his age, only to vow abstinence for half a fucking decade?
What the fuck happened to April O'neil? It seems a few years ago she entered into some sort of porn studio residency and is being forced to churn out horrendous shit like this at gun point. Today's flavor? One of the few Fortnite players that doesn't have body odor reminiscent of Regal popcorn butter". POGGERS IN CHAT ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ
Technically she lasted closer to 10, but this guy isn't very fluent in "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO", so that mahogany-stained browneye got pounded for a few more Missippi's than desired. Emphasis on mahogany-stained .
If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
