Evil Angel

Rating: TWO & A HALF "I'm Ready For My ATM, Mr. Jordan" BUSTED NUTS

Now I know what they mean by "porn critic burnout," "being made temporarily gay," and "what an expensive rug that ho's getting skullfucked on." Five, eight, 11, 13, 15, 17 sausages (LEXINGTON STEELE has to count as two, at least) for Ms. Lynn to play her skin flute symphonia magnum hopus pocus, and that's goddamned talent.

WE NOTE THAT HEALTH CARE IN AMERICA SEEMS TO BE TAKING A GODDAMNED TURN FOR THE BETTER THANKS TO THE CAREFUL MOUTH SEX MINISTRATIONS OF THE FLORENCE NIGHTENGALESQUE GINA LYNN

Sure, sure, some pricks throb in more than one scene, but am I really supposed to keep track of that, shit? What for? All I know is that all of those poles are headed for the same two holes, shows at six and nine each weeknight, on level four of the parking garage behind the Millwork Ramada Inn.

This is a double DVD, but the first one lists the contents of the second, rendering it superfluous. It warns of a "Jules Jordan Biography," but does he fellate in the round like GINA LYNN? You tell me!

There are brief flashes of inspired pornogstication, however. A Viagra-freebasing Eminem clone drips candle wax on his own wick. Two men rub out a kahlua and cream without the kahlua into a glass for Gina to knock back. Cometimes she doesn't just swallow right away, gargling sperm in the same way that John Mayer does to get his distinctive vocal style. They brought in BELLADONNA for the fishnet-shredding, wax-dripping first scene = SHE was an anal athlete -- a warmup to a cold career move.

Any slut worth her implants though is going to take on two, maybe three guys at a time. But Gina, see she's taking none up the darkside that matters the most: her bunghole. So there's always somebody left holding the baloney. Me, too. -- JIMMY THE G

Buy it NOW!