Alternate titles for this article:
"I Watched Farrah's Sex Tape and All I Got Was a Burning Desire to End My Own Life"
"So, You Want to Violently Dry Heave?"
"UTI Party in the USA"
"I Could See, But Now I Am Blind"
A few days ago, my boyfriend said the most romantic thing to me: "Would you like me to download 'Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom'?" See, actually spending $4.95 to watch this cinematic explosion is akin to paying for a water-boarding session, or tipping the knife guy at your execution to go with slow slicing. Plus, I'm going to have therapy bills coming out the ass after watching Farrah ... experiment with hers.
What you're about to read is horrifying at best, and going to brutally end your desire to engage in any sort of physical intimacy at worst. (Note that my two years as a "Teen Mom" recapper in no way prepared me for this waking nightmare.) As we begin our journey together, just remember: This hurt me far, far worse than it's going to hurt you.
Obviously, the below is slightly NSFW.
Part 1: Having the Sex
First, a compliment: Farrah has a pretty rockin' body. Seriously, if ever there was a reason to get pregnant as a teen, it's because of how magically elastic the body is at 19. Plus, $20,000 of plastic surgery has done wonders for her boobs and worked tiny, small-town miracles (like a pet pig going missing, then showing up well-fed and happy a few days later in his pen) for her face.
Still, she hasn't invested in brain implants, so her "acting" skills fall flatter than an A-cup. She repeatedly whines "baaaby!" at porn star James Deen in a desperate (and unconvincing) attempt to make it seem like they've established an off-camera relationship. Oh, Farrah. The man and his member have starred in 1,300 pornos: The jig is up. The only thing "intimate" about this "home video" is the fact that this time, mama left her real baby in the car while she "worked." (Farrah reportedly brought Sophia, 3, to the negotiations ... you know, for some help with the math.)
When we first see Farrah, she's on a couch (it's nice, might be from CB2) delicately unstrapping her heels. Where's the "Insoles for Gals About to Get Boned" line of products when you need 'em, Scholls?
Is Farrah her typical, annoying self, you ask? Since Farrah is conscious, the answer is alternately "DUH" and "YES." Before they can get down to the business of being naked, Farrah inexplicably decides to change into matching bra and panties she found at her local Rainbow. (If you don't know what a Rainbow store is, just imagine an underpants set that looks like its dad didn't love it.)
Their romp begins with Farrah taking a closer look at all the different items in James Deen's pants. Well, technically, it starts with Farrah saying "I think these buttons are going to take me forever," to which James Deen brilliantly replies, "Do you know how buttons work?" (She actually takes a minute to mull that over before proceeding with the task at, um, hand.) His disinterest in her is palpable, and it's painfully obvious that his mind is telling him "no" ... but his body is like, "Eh, OK."
Up to this point, Farrah has allowed her heart to be her guide -- and now, it's invited her mouth to take the lead. James Deen seems to enjoy his no-arms hug, though since we haven't seen his face yet, I can't properly gauge his emotional state beyond "still there."
What follows is potentially too graphic for me to write, but let's just say that James Deen must be a Robert Frost fan, 'cause when he sees two roads diverged in a yellow wood, he takes the one less traveled.
The most amusing part about all this is that the clock on the TV reads "12: 39: 11" p.m. ... so when this was being filmed, you were maybe having brunch!
A few minutes later, the most depraved, unthinkable thing happens: They kiss for the first time. Welp, I'm infertile now.
Next, because they probably want to stare into each other's empty eyes, they decide to continue their escapades standing up -- and they're eying a nearby wall. The wall starts to scream, but nobody can hear it. The bed has gone into a state of post-traumatic shock. The couch is quietly weeping, cursing the furniture gods for not making it an ottoman. The road to hell is paved with this sex tape.
We're about 23 minutes in and I'm starting to get incredibly nauseous. The worst part, though, is that I had a burrito right before this, and I'm definitely never going to be able to have another, especially because ... oh, look at that. Farrah's just ensured that I never ingest any liquid again, either. (Mom, if you're reading this, please go back to playing Candy Crush.)
Now at this point, there's nothing new to see -- but there's plenty I'll be trying to un-hear, potentially with the help of a lobotomy, or a hypnotherapist. Let's just say that although Farrah told TMZ "his penis is small," she's spent the past 30 minutes shouting otherwise. To be honest, her dirty talk vocabulary needs some work, though I do applaud her for finding so many different combinations for the same two words.
Now we're a half hour in, and like a quality journalist, Farrah's really staying true to the theme of this porn. After some mumbled pillow talk, James Deen begrudgingly submits to Farrah's wanton desires for more smooching.
As Farrah climbs under the covers at 1:05:39 p.m. after staring into the camera for what felt, to my bleeding eyes, like eternity, she pulls the requisite, "oOoOooh I am SO embarrassed!" before quickly getting over it and letting James Deen do a quick gynecological exam. After all, he did graduate from med school Suma Cum on a "Teen Mom."
Then, after what must have been hours and hours of hell that makes Guantanamo Bay look like Six Flags, it's finally over in an explosion of everything except emotion or passion. James Deen's parting gift to Farrah isn't something you can buy in stores, and it will most likely require a visit to the ophthalmologist, but she doesn't seem to mind.
After all, what's that famous saying? Eye irritation and monstrous hemerhoids come and go ... but a porno is forever.
Note for hardcore Farrah fans: There are actually two more parts to this sex tape that I have chosen, for my sanity, not to review. There's a shower scene where she gives a loofah an STD, and a limo ride in which she does NOT wear a seat belt, saucy little minx.
If you need me, I'll be huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth.