60ish Minutes Starring Georgette, Tracy, Becky, Reece and Kevin
Phyco:
Well I knew it couldn’t last… fresh on the trail of the sweet Devlin smells that have besieged our offices over the last week or two, we blindly snatch at anything in our greedy need for more… fools only to ourselves… you’d have thought we’d have learnt our lessons by now, eh?
Sigh… Round one! “Jonni” turns out to be some blatantly moronic Dover try-hard assuming the role of anonymous camera op’ [in the finest of Gonzo traditions] with none of the results that others have managed… rather, his witless twittering serves only to drive the viewer into furious fits of untempered rage that renders any hope of redemption [and therefore associated relief] quite impossible… so it’s not for the first time that I bemoan: “Please… shut your fucking mouth and get on with it!”… there’s nothing quite as irritating as some revolting little man with the charismatic “presence” of an old carrier bag full of flu-ridden sparrows, convinced of his own delusional value, presenting himself [or at least his insipid drivelings] for public consumption in a vulgar display of sheepish inadequacy… this poor fellows hopeless failings can only be brought into perspective by the mind-alteringly dismal performance that is yet to befall us via the inane random fidgeting of this scene’s principle cock, and never was the term quite so appropriate. But first - the girl “Georgette”… Now what could have inspired her to sully her CV with this limping cripple of a scene? A downturn in the market? She’s clearly got the gift… she handles well - has all the larrup - looks good - puts her back into her work - loves the camera… it’s such a shame… such a waste of talent… [there’s one bogroll score down there - note that it’s for her and her alone] and compounding our miseries is her supporting “bi” girlfriend who really is in need of a good livening up [although even an adrenalin hit delivered directly to the heart a la “Pulp Fiction” would be lucky to initiate so much as a flicker in this dead bulb] - looking good enough but playing it like a felled log… for fucksache… Girl/girl numbers rarely deliver anything of merit ‘round here and this is clearly no exception… depressingly lame double-ended dildo nonsense… poor camera work… the dead girls body getting in the way… but when - via a shocking piece of editing butchery [Was that your doing McCavity?!] - the man with the ham jumps into sight and launches into a shamefully inappropriate rapid humping routine on top of the dearly-departed, wrestling her limp cadaver into awkward contortions before waggling his withered black strap against her legs claiming “Look… I’ve fucked ya… your fucked… thas it… I done ya… ya fucked…” Sigh… by now we know that it’s all over… all hope evaporated in a puff of folly… and we can only watch this runt of the Devlin litter for the fucking farce that it is from this moment onward…
“You like that dontya?” he drawls in between positions… dipping his loosely shrivelled string into Georgettes grinding trap like it was his first sexual experience… “You like that dontya?” and she bites his leathery brown bell so hard we had to pause the tape for 5 minutes just to practice our wincing flinches… “You like that dontya?” as his dried out papery worm gets dragged thru gritted teeth and he drizzles his grease over the chin of the deceased… how positively awful. “You like that dontya?”… Um… not at all dear boy… not at all…
Ding-ding! Round two: More of the same random rubbish posing as porn… another catchphrase becomes immediately apparent from our manicured woodsman #2: “Yeah you bitch… yeah bitch… oh you bitch”… over and over and over and over so that she [who, incidently shows no “bitch-ish” inclinations beyond those which serve to define her complete disinterest] gets fed up with it before even we do - and then she gets the chuckles! And we all join in! Like this is the stuff of seed-stealing scenery! “Always the last to know” I thought fuming, listening to the whelps and whoops issuing from this curious little chap… and as his penchant for squealing like a cut pig peaks in ernest he howls: “Oh you…fucking COW!” and the television set disappears through the upstairs window in a shower of broken glass… “What’ll happen now is - I’ll move out for a couple of months”
Casper:
“You like that dontya?” NO I FUCKIN’ DON’T.
This was undoubtedly the worst “thing” ever to fall into my lap. Surprisingly, Devlin let this one fall through his net, and it is an absolute tragedy - not one single redeeming feature. It is in a U.K. gritty format, but it fails in every respect to deliver any thing of worth after the title credits roll.
I would like to make a formal apology to Mr Perry for any previous comments I may have made, concerning his “laddish banter” throughout his Ben Dover films. All is forgiven! Jonni-cam is a Dover wannabe who hasn’t quite found his niche. He is uncomfortable in his commentary, which only serves to embarass the viewer, and make the “actors” uncomfortable.
Right… you’ve got the first two girls in the first scene - one of them is alright and the other is smacked out of her twat waiting for her paycheck. Bring on the instantly legendary “You like that dontya?” play-dough-man. His inability to get a “starchon” is matched only by his wild delusion that the girls “like it” and have been “done” and “fucked”. Fuck off mate.
Scene two. Some lairy geordie bird who is rude to everyone and ends up laughing at the bloke she is shagging cos’ he sounds like an overacting camera crazed US studio porn bird. He screams like a bitch! Where’s your self respect man?
I was so angry at this point, but clinging to the hope that the third scene would redeem the flick in some capacity… and guess what? There wasn’t a third scene! and guess what? There isn’t going to be a rating!!!
To conclude: you have two shit scenes with one bloke who can’t get it up and another who is laughed at by his counterpart - a waste of money Devlin… we want a refund!
Phyco:
We’ve just started using the British Girls Adult Film Database for “research purposes”… check it out if you’re an obsessive psychotic stalker type…
Casper:
“We’ve just started using”? Speak for yourself you fuckin’ web muppet…