Some of the schtupping on this volume is so watchable that we’ve gotta give it props; as much as that burns our wick. Why? Two words: Destro Damus' relentless stream of the jabbering!
Then there’s the whole issue of the “n” word, which Damus uses just as freely as Boz. We’re not opposed to the word — or any word for that matter; in contex t— but this whole “I’m too hip to be a racist” routine may be a turn off to customers.
Back to the sex! Where the guys lack charm, they almost make up for it with squeaky tight cornholing. Angel’s craving level dials up to a screamin’ reamin’ 11. (Spinal Tap fans take note). Our crystal ball sees AAAAs ratings in the future if Damus would just tone down the chatter.