Honestly this one could have rolled credits right after Donatello got his tits greased with tomato sauce and you'd still have an unwanted memory to try eradicating for the foreseeable future. But where's the fun in that?
It's not even the fact that these fetishes exist. It's that some of these creaturas are banking a yearly salary after swimming through an Arby's dumpster for 3 minutes so Jungle Jack in Frogdick Mississippi can have beat off material for the week. We might not be in end times. But intermission was a long time ago.
You know what you get when you cast a guy that looks like he still gets the crust cut off his peanut butter and banana sandwiches? Believability mother fucker, that's what. Remove the Bangbros logo and scatter a few Star Wars Amibos in the background and I would have defended it's authenticity until the end of time.
I don't know why anyone would post such things of themselves onto such a terrible place as the internet, but whatever! Come ride the shit train with me on a journey into the awful side of amateur pornography.
What's life's greatest mystery? 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?
He came packing a mullet, social-awkwardness and the body type/skin tone of a marsh mellow with prescription glasses. But that day back in 1998, he was a hero for 10 minutes at a gentleman's club in Arkansas.
We're talking girth here. It's not often you see [siswet] tap out. At one point in time I was convinced this woman's asshole was going to be the solution to New York City's parking shortages. Now I see even the grand canyon itself has a capacity limit. Never meet your heros.
Amber Rayne climbs to the top of America's Most Wanted. Alanah Rae is in desperate need for Dr. Phillip. And the girl at the end has no officially listed name, and that's the bottom line because Stone Cold Steve Autism said so.
Only 30% of these genetic anomalies come from Japan. The rest? Homegrown in the ole' U S of A. They could be your neighbors, your mailmen, even the friend you pay in Wendy's frosty coupons to perform the pittsburgh coal miner. Either way, they are among us.
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.
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.
