It's always the same thing: Your favorite e-piece succumbs to the competition and proceeds to push her stream to the next level... only to deteriorate her street cred faster than my rectal lining at a Bangladeshi farmer's market.
AKA "The Ted Bundy Sex Doll Treatment". She was carefully sculpted by the loving hands of a master craftsmen. Made to be life like, made to look real, made for your loser uncle to fornicate with. Made to be destroyed. SAUCE.
Believe it or not this was actually voted the #2 reason to wake up Saturday morning with an unexplained rash in between your ass cheeks. Only falling short to raw dogging Taco Bell's new Cantina Chicken Mexican Pizza.
You could throw a football in her asshole and hit nothing but net. She has the Mariana Trench of colons and today she's pushing the limits of pornography, breakfast, and ass sphincters all at the same time.
Looks like someone crossbred Rosario Dawson with a howler monkey and gave it rabies. But this isn't for the lulz... more about awareness. You honestly don't even need video for this. The soundtrack alone is enough to keep my Bugle Boy cut-offs on the rinse cycle.
After making it to the end of this one you may want to set some boundaries on your future sexual curiosities. Either that or just start fucking the neighbor's lawn mower in between trimmings because it's a lot easier to explain than this.
Once again we're honoring the best of the worst in the world of webcam modeling. Where cute crazy bitches and really weird dudes are willing to stab at their own kidneys for our amusement and tokens.
1 part Disney movie, 2 parts Carole Baskins. That was the plan up until Zazu used all of his Rosetta Stone credits on the Jack Sparrow of punani tsunamis. The result is an unexpected comedy duo, the likes of Seth Rogan would be hired to voice-over in the theatrical release. Why are the most important discoveries in life accidental?
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.
Prozac-deficient e-girls 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 a Twitter feed, and while that might not be saying much, I'm confident you'll be impressed.
So, this is the new standard for getting attention? Terrorizing unsuspecting civilians with your prescription flavored genitals and "oopsy'ing" ur way through milk toast sexual acts? Points for the self-awareness though. It adds a little depth to my upcoming biography aptly named: Sex, Drugs & Brain Damage
