Mayhem Films

Rating: TWO "I Don't Know If You Know This Joe Rogan, But I Smoke Rock" BUSTED NUTS

Judging the by the back cover, SMOKIN' CRACK promises some lascivious hot bitches being pulverized by eager sweaty muscular ex-Marines in a variety of painful and penetrating positions.

Unfortunately, like so many releases, the back cover scenes tempt with such frozen moments of carnal bliss and serve only to lead to the disappointment of seeing a variety of teen runaways from the Mid West, stripping awkwardly in that anonymous porn producer's mansion in which it seems all porn is filmed. Most find them selves beginning the proceedings by sticking their fingers into their anuses [anii?] with a clinical depravity that seems often to be more like they are trying to push something buried inside, even further inside. I'm glad I never found out what that was exactly.

WITH THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF CRACK? YES....ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!!! SO SAYS DILLAN LAUREN, NUCLEAR PHYSICIST.

Soon, of course, the muscled guys are sitting on the cheap but new couch, next to the teen babe, of which most seem at least 15 pounds heavier than what they appear on the cover. They chat but since the couch discussion phase of porn began a few years ago, I have only ever fast-forwarded through these scenes, as I am quite sure nothing is to be gained from these little chats. Perhaps there is a secret message here, known only to the porn aristocracy, a means of communicating their over throw of the world through the conversations of mindless blonde teens.

Perhaps not.

Anyway, most of the scenes are just OK, the girls all seem quite used to the whole affair and go through the motions with a lot of grunting and thrusting, letting themselves get thrown around aggressively as they have various openings filled with man tube. The obligatory cum shot presents itself each time with the girl suddenly jumping out of position 68 and kneeling on the white carpet, her mouth so wide you can almost see her stomach digesting the last of the crack she shoveled into her mouth only an hour before.

The men grunt and groan, grimacing as they remember their fallen comrades from some nameless war before unleashing their buttery ball custard onto the girls' still grinning faces. Sometimes the liquids found themselves in the girl's mouth and of course she looks so delighted she makes a huge show of swallowing it as if it was the finest caviar.

Now, that's entertainment. -- MIKE HUNT, ESQ.

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