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.
These awful pornographic gems were all attempted with eroticism as a goal. I.E. People were somehow meant to masturbate to this shit, but what these clips lack in fap value they make up for with lulz.
Apparently Clayton Bigsby has an extended bloodline we were completely unaware of. Practice what you're about to see here & I promise - those pesky NPC'S will never scream "racism" again.
The amazing thing? Multiple people thought these were good ideas and put a whole lot of effort into them. I.E. the guy who had to cut a dick hole in a giant Wheaties box or the man controlling the giant octopus dildo tentacles.
Round #2 in a series that showcases the authentic side of some of our most interesting citizens. I'm not exactly sure what life choices have to be made to end up here, but it probably has something to do with blue checkmarks and whatever they put in those Impossible burgers.
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.
One of these days I'm going to edit some OC home videos into this series. A spirited evening behind a Tim Horton's dumpster specifically comes to mind. She had the kind of lips that swung around like a basset hound's ears during a tropical storm. I never looked at recycling the same again. MORE: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-]
Did Mark McGrath admit to being a pedophile? Did a feminist bassist fist rape a minor? Why is Eve 6 throwing lunch meat at a hooker? Buffalo Billy? IDFK but I killed 50 bucks for this rare VHS on eBay and I have zero regrets.
Flipping the Minnow, Clubbing the Chimp, Procrastabating, Shaking Hands with Bruce Willis - Call it what you want. I refer to it as the only reason to leave the house other than to stock up on Mr. Pibb and fried dough. Shoutouts to feminism for empowering these women.
So, who's really to blame here? The horse farm that secured their perimeter to keep her away from the livestock, or the guy with 4 Q's in his name that's keeping her on a 1-token drip for the past 4 hours?
