A solid plot line can make up for just about anything: Bad acting, low budgets, the marionette scene in Terrifier 2. But this assortment of genetic defects? They've got digital footprints like Tom Cruise has regressive Aspergers, and I don't know when this fucking ride is gonna end.
Much like Cardi B's popularity, one has to question why this even exists in and how we got here in the first place. Emphasis on the Oscar-award winning method acting seen in the opening dialogue. Simply brilliant.
An awkward 120lb geek thinks he has what it takes to make his porn debut with a pornstar that can't math. But even with the deer in headlights look in his eyes, he somehow pulls off the incredible.
Start Door Dashing your scottish woodcocks, and fire up the Tay Tay playlist because you're about to witness the pinnacle of crossbreeding the Starship Troopers prequel we never got with a porn studio that actually has funding. Ridley Scott; Take notes.
Many a question will arise while shuffling through this one, but none more important than whatever comes out of your mouth around the 3:30 mark. Don't worry, you're not alone. I don't fucking know either.
I proudly present "La Magique Buco Culo" or "The Magic Butt Hole. This feat of pure sphincter talent took years of blood, sweat and tears all culminating to this moment. Captured on webcam and entered into the historical archives for your enjoyment.
An aryan idol sexually trolls the hotel bell hop in order to win a "contest" that may or may not even exist. Regardless, Michael Cera is here to help. Although I'm not entirely convinced he's ever done this before.
Ya know, I've always wondered what kind of standard the director of these JAVsterpieces are looking for when filming this bullshit. Like if the floater doesn't reach max buoyancy during the first take, does the entire production have to shutdown so "Shart Girl #2" can hit up catering to fill up on cabbage? The west may never know. #SP-672
2002-2004. An era of professionally produced pornography that should probably be forgotten. Not a single penetration was made, yet I feel like I've been fucked by spare tires and empty cans of Busch Light after sitting through this atrocity. The line dropped at 2:30 really makes you wonder how many Marlboro Miles these guy were paid for the scene.
What happens when you let your BBC-obsessed husband talk you into the kind of Smackdown WWE would be jealous of? Here's a hint: You end up booking a legendary Iron Man match, but there's no winner.
Half of these participants would be better suited in the clearance section of Craigslist forgotten /erotic section. The other half might match you on Tinder if you try hard enough. Choose your fate. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-]
