What Do You Need Stuffed?

Warning: This post contains strong sexual content and salty language. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Then again, since you had to answer a question to get here in the first place, maybe you should just disregard this warning and continue with your reading.

I have a warped imagination that shows itself during the worst possible moments at work. Fortunately, I am blessed to have co-workers that have somehow been able, for the past two or three years, to tune into my wavelength, and thus deal with my warped imagination in the way that most normal (read: non-p.c.) people do.

By feeding me straight lines.

The other day, while I was walking by a co-worker's cube, she said to me, "If you're bored, I have some things that need to be stuffed."

Now you know at that precise instant that particular sentence registered in my mind, my co-worker immediately regretted saying it. Why? Because she knows how my twisted little mind works.

How does my twisted little mind work with a sentence like that?

By using it as a piece of delectable fodder for a post. Like this:

Hot looking guy walks into his kitchen and spots his hot looking play toy (you know the type, tits the size of honeydews, an ass that's screaming to be spanked, a pussy that's screaming to be fucked and a IQ so low that she makes Deputy Dawg look positively brilliant) standing at the kitchen counter holding a couple of huge green bell peppers and looking kind of lost.

Guy asks his play toy, "What's wrong?"
Play toy answers, "I don't know what I should stuff these peppers with."
Guy says, "How 'bout we stuff it with some sausage?"
Play toy answers, "What sausage?"
Guy says, "This one." and proceeds to drop his shorts, drops her shorts and then fucks his play toy until she screams for mercy.

Yeah, I know, it reads like a three minute porno clip. Look, I never said I had a clean mind, just a warped imagination.

Or, we could use it like this.

A lonely, horny and incredibly well built MiLF walks into a convenience store late one night and engages the cashier on duty in some rather highly sexual repartee. You know the kind of repartee: blatantly inappropriate, incredibly explicit and normally costs $1.99 for the first three minutes and $3.99 for each additonal minute thereafter.

Anyways, after a few minutes of this highly charged exchange of words, the cashier is feeling all hot and bothered. Yup, he is sweating bullets and unbuttoning a few shirt buttons to cool off. The MiLF leans forward until she's about spilling out and says ever so provocatively, "I'm looking for something sweet to fill my empty tummy. Do you have anything that I could stuff into my mouth and satisfy my tummy ache?"

The cashier looks around to make sure the store is empty and says, "I have just thing right behind this counter. Why don't you come around the side and I'll give you a little something?"

The lonely, horny and incredibly well built MiLF walks around the side, takes a seat on a milk crate, and unbuttons the top part of her dress until her twin titans of yummy are exploding with natural goodness. The cashier unzips and he proceeds to stuff her face until her tummy ache goes away.

Yeah, I know that this reads like a three minute porno clip as well. Look, I did say that this was going to be a graphic post, didn't I? Well alrighty then, this isn't Kansas anymore and we don't have a failure to communicate.

And finally, we can go batshit abnormal and use it like this:

Average looking guy is reading his local gossip rag (National Enquirer is his weapon of choice) and spots an advert in the classifieds that reads, "Make easy money at home stuffing envelopes. No outlay of funds needed, just a low IQ and zero self-esteem. Learn how to stuff all kinds of things into all kinds of envelopes in all kinds of ways. Just call this non-toll free 1-900 number now and you'll be well on your way in your new exciting career in the sub-sub minimum wage industry."

Out of one seemingly innocuous little sentence, we have come up with two rip-roaring pieces of sleaze at its corruptible finest, and one pedestrian piece of swill that even your own mother wouldn't want to read.

I thank you for stopping by today and rest assure that I will always strive to write the absolute worst sleaze that I can come up with out of the most innocuous phrases and sentences ever uttered in my presence.