Grilled to Perfection with Generic Viagra

I've got a Generic Viagra story involving that great American pastime-backyard grilling. My wife and I have always enjoyed grilling out on the back porch, since before we were married. Needless to say, it's not just dinner we're cooking up out there, if you know what I mean. Back before I even needed Generic Viagra, things used to get a bit steamy over that hot grill, with all that grease and smoke and juicy, succulent meat. I've grilled my Bavarian sausage out there many, many times as well, not to mention someone's tuna steak. In those days before the Generic Viagra era, I used to lean my then-fiancée back on a piece of patio furniture and sear that red meat to a tender, crispy brown, then pull out my baster and marinate her until she glistened all over. Now that's finger-lickin' good! Sometimes she'd even wear nothing but a "grillmaster" apron, and threaten me mockingly with a couple of grilling utensils-that was all it took for me to get a hickory stick hard-on that could've choked a wildebeest. Then, suddenly, our idyllic backyard existence was shattered. I needed Generic Viagra. I couldn't get a hard-on to save my life.

Until I finally ordered the Generic Viagra, things were rough around the barbecue pit. Imagine my despair as I tended the grill, and my wife sat there sadly on her patio furniture, looking at the ground, as I looked at the Bavarian sausage simmering on my grill and thought-well, you can imagine what I thought. At least she'd be eating this Bavarian sausage tonight! Until the Generic Viagra arrived, I'd have nightmares, where she'd drizzle my kielbasa with some sweet honey mustard, and declare that "You won't be needing this anymore!" I won't tell you what she did next-just that she wrapped a hot-dog bun around it first. Those dreams scared me straight-literally. I decided to order some Generic Viagra, and recover my grillmaster status, at any price. So finally, I went online and ordered this miracle sauce. I'd heard from certain acquaintances, who shall remain nameless, that the stuff had worked for them-so why wouldn't it work for me? For some stupid reason, I was skeptical. Or, rather, I was ashamed that I, the famous Kielbasa Brown, the Beast from the East, needed some erectile dysfunction medication. I never dreamed I would need Generic Viagra. Of course, later I learned that all it does for you is restore your natural ability to grill a girl up just right. I was just stressed out, from working too much overtime, more than likely. Something was interfering with the blood flow to my Jimmy Johnson. So what did I have to be self-conscious about, for crying out loud? If Generic Viagra would allow me to give it to my wife on the back porch the way I did when she was still my fiancée, then what did I have to lose?

I'll never forget what went down the first time after my special sauce had arrived. I swallowed a dose a half-hour or so before it was time to grill. My wife came out half-heartedly, with her little apron on, and her pert breasts bulging, very lonely, from beneath the apron straps. That was all it took! Generic Viagra sure lived up to its reputation. I left the steaks to simmer on the grill, as I pulled out my salami and speared her with it most profoundly. She began moaning and screaming and didn't stop for an hour; before long, I couldn't tell which meat it was I heard sizzling. Funny, when I pulled out and doused her, she was cooked to perfection, pink and tender. The steaks were burnt to a crisp-couldn't have cut those things with a buzzsaw. So we went out for pizza. Sure, it took her a while to walk to the car. But she wasn't complaining!