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.
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.
Don't let the half-assed attempt at blurring out Jackin' Jerry's face fool you; The situation may very well be authentic. Such as illustrated by our power couple having more will to finish the story than Cody Rhodes. English translation possibly done by David Lynch.
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.
Flattery was never my strong point... and it still isn't. Half the decisions here look like they were made by a person that smokes wet Newports, and yet everyone is chowin down like it's grandma's old fashion applesauce. Your fellow Walmartians will be hearing about this.
A proud self-identified "throat goat" with self-destructive blowjob skills attempts total sexual suicide via co-stars penis. I like this bitch, she's fucking crazy.
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.
In Russia, a fake farm equipped with disco lights and some thot lip syncing catchy dance music while fucking for 20 minutes is quality porn. I'm not totally convinced, but the song does have a 'pavlov's dog' effect on my boner now.
Another 12 months of spectating the human experiment take another detour to fuck town USA, aided by wrestling memes and movies you probably never heard of before. It was a fine society we had here once upon a time. But like buying a video card without qualifying for a loan first, those days are over.
For fuck sakes, these dorks could've thrown a dart at any billboard in Las Vegas and found better ideas to attach to their bodies permanently. I haven't seen people this far out of their comfort zones since the launch of Burger King's ultimate breakfast platter.
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down Milli Vanilli's splash damage was the last fucking thing I had my bingus card. Watching a stranger crack your s/o's purple turkey just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, anytime someone makes middle aged women squeal like a 2 for 1 HomeGoods sale, eyebrows are raised.
