Yea, I've been in many a hollywood hole. Every hole you can think of. Animals? You name a species and an orifice and I can give you ten dvd's of me in action. Seriously. I even did a stretch in the playboy mansion, where I was worn down an entire inch in less than a week by the dense forest of The Hef's anal warts. I've done Madonna more times then... still makes me puke just thinking about...arggghhh...rolf, rolf... argghh... sorry. Back in the day, well before she started parking her SUV in her quimby and became a little stretched out for this kid, we had a thang. I mean, I have been around sixty years -- longer than any living fucker in Hollywood. I have been in celebrity asses fine and luscious, stinky and rancid. Been there on their way up, their way down, and their way to their grandmothers.
Watch for my celebrity tell all, which Johnny Pain has agreed to serialize in this blog. Like he said, "Hey, if you are dildo that can talk, then I am making room for you, okay? I always thought dildos should have little speakers that start moaning when you turn them on." Then he went on a little longer. Well, a lot longer... about nothing... ended up just bouncing up and down on the couch screaming, "Kill, Kill, kill, kill... " He is always doing that.
Anyways, thank you for giving this small town dildo a chance to tell his story of becoming the preferred rectal insertion device of his generation.
