Judy's Bloom

The back story (pun?) for this one is pretty easy to set up - guy picks up two crack whores, at least one of whom is known to him, and takes them back to some kind of seedy motel. Guy then demands that they strip before denuding himself (after all, what man in his right mind would get naked before the hookers do) and letting them go to work for a bit. Then our fellow whips out the digital camera that his son-in-law got him for Christmas from that Best-Buy in that mall up near the high school, the same digital camera he used to document the Canada geese that were swimming in his pool (to the delight of the children) this past September.
The single lens unblinkingly witnesses the travesty of the woman's asshole as it turns itself inside out in a simultaneous mockery of birth and excretion. He expresses approval at the rosebud of intestine nervously blooming before his eyes, the other woman exclaims that she's never seen one of those before - but she's game. She has to be, as his guttural susurrations encourage her to toss the salad of the prolapsed anus. Just to make damn sure that everything unforgivable, it lasts for over three minutes. At 1:06 her extroverted bowel utters the saddest fart that I have ever heard - an anguished baritone outcry against drug use and prostitution.

Eviscerape

Allow me to present yet another horrible act of Asian invention (let's call it "deconstructed bestiality") hosted so generously by the chauvinist neckbeards at EFuckt.
I aver that this is film has an anachronistic vaudevillian sensibility resulting from the dramatization of ironic wordplay. This is illustrated, principally, in the conclusion, in which the male climax, a synonym of which is "head," is fantastically transmuted to a dangling and decapitated literal cranium.
The fact that it's Asian (as evidenced by the blurred genitals, which themselves are a consequence of the hollow-boned and thus aerodynamic physical structure of the races of the Orient) might lead some to speculate as to the veracity of the above exegesis, since the Asiatic peoples are not known for their innate facility with words which are, in the Queen's English, synonymous. To those nay saying armchair lexicographers, I respond with evidence provided by dear BabelFish translation that the Japanese writing of ejaculate is "精液," while head is "頭部". Both of these peculiar compound graphemes resemble the scribblings of an armless man with a mouth full of toothpicks in litter box, but since they are roughly the same length they're almost certainly considered "synonymous" in the parlance of that Mothra-infested island.

Goldfish: Semen's Condiments

Remember when your ol' pop told you the story about how that one time when he was in college/the army a friend of his swallowed goldfish, only to spit them back up alive? That's just the kind of talent bulimic wang-wranglers are wild to emulate in this petite film du jour, I suppose. Why the fuck else would anyone do this?
Note: the video is tiny and is itself afloat in a sea of harlequin advertisements, but it is the only moving image on the page. In the words of The Good Dr., "it's just too small enough."

Rural Men Unite!

Grab your ATVs, your Carhartt jackets, your camouflage pants! Swing by in your Chevy and bring some Slim Jims to mow down while watching WWE (while still calling it WWF). Pop in some of that Grizzly while watching videotapes of you railin' on your stepsons. Mount your treestand and live it up, live it up.

Lady's Slipper

[12:55 pm Wednesday 6 Feb - back online]
[EDIT 11:50 pm Monday 4 Feb - the video seems to be off line because redtube has been haxed. boo! it'll be back soon, so don't cry about it.]

If a video incorporates 3+ fetishes within five minutes, I will almost certainly love it. This one is of particular interest because it owes its story line to M. Night Shyamalan's rejected attempt at smut. Since this is meant to be erotic, a supernatural subplot is translated into Lesbians, and his self-insertion (pun!) cameo is probably symbolic.
It starts out slowly, wooing the audience into some false sense of predictability, then suddenly at 0:50 there is a marked change in the plot's trajectory. The audience is now intrigued. The pre-established cocktail of fetishes (Same-sex coupling, Futurama Cosplay, Bathroom sex) is improved upon, a new focal point has been introduced to the film. The tension resumes once more with the aid of what looks like a sz 8-9, pausing at 1:28 for a moment of unexpected comedic relief, comparable to the tin-foil hats scene in Signs. The viewer is mid-laugh at the first twist, 1:32, which is the catalyst in a chain of events leading to the second precisely orchestrated revelation at 2:12, which ideally would be akin to the memorable and applause-worthy bombshell that first defined Shyamalan as a director, as when we realize Dr. Crowe is actually a ghost. Unfortunately, the second twist manages to surprise without really shocking, more similar to, say, finding out that the enemy in The Village is us. Rather than providing the audience with a thought provoking allegory, this video's plot is smothered by its own inconsistencies and inspires only confusion. Rating: C

Failure

O college!