Reeling in the Big One with Generic Viagra

My name's... well, on second thought, I'll preserve my anonymity, since I'm about to tell what Generic Viagra did for me. And things might get a little... personal. I'll just say I work at a bait and tackle shop, and leave it at that. I sell fishing rods and lures and chicken livers- the catfish go for that. It's not glamorous work, but hey, fishing is my passion. The guys joke that I'd rather spend two hours in a boat reeling in a big, cold fish, than spending ten minutes with a hot-blooded woman. They wonder if it's escape I'm seeking out in that boat... escape from my girlfriend Jenn's complaints. They bug me about ordering Generic Viagra. And, until recently, it was all fun and games- locker room banter, you know.

But over the past year or so, before I began ordering Generic Viagra, Jenn- my girlfriend- really had had plenty to complain about. Because my rod hadn't exactly been reeling in much lately. And, in those days without Generic Viagra, I wasn't any happier than she was. Whatever my friends might think, fishing is only one of my passions, and catfish isn't the only fish I like to eat, if you catch my drift. And here's a paradox I often think about out on the water: when you're fishing for catfish, and your rod bends, it's a good thing- it means you've caught a whopper. But when you're fishing for tuna, and your rod isn't straight- well, the only thing you'll catch is hell.

And I sure caught hell that night a week or so ago, when Jenn, frustrated beyond all measure, blurted out that I should order some Generic Viagra, for crying out loud. I surprised her when I took her insult seriously. I said, "Alright, I'll buy some Generic Viagra tomorrow, or may lightning strike me." And sure enough, stubborn ass that I am, I went online and placed my order. By the next weekend, my Generic Viagra was shipped to my door. I hid some in my tackle-box and invited Jenn for a weekend camping and fishing trip. Funny thing, I didn't take any chicken livers. I wasn't angling for catfish...

I took some Generic Viagra before pulling the truck out of the garage. And before we'd even arrived at the campsite, Jenn casually touched my arm, and I pitched a tent. I couldn't believe it myself- nor could she, when I took her hand and guided it towards my manhood. "Honey!' she said, practically purring, "You brought the long rod?" What a compliment! After taking Generic Viagra, I'd come a long way since her jokes about my rod and reel looking more like a limp, dead worm on a hook. "A fish might bite at that" she said, "but a woman won't." But now, with Generic Viagra, things were suddenly different.

I skidded the truck to a stop beside the lake; we jumped out, giggling like teenagers, ripped the real tent out of the truckbed, and began assembling the darn thing as quickly as we could, fumbling around with excitement. We erected a couple of poles- enough to keep the tent up at least temporarily- and rushed inside, to enjoy the pole that Generic Viagra had erected for us. At some point, the stupid tent collapsed on us, but I didn't care- I went right on, until she was positively reeling with satisfaction. After several hours, somewhere around midnight, we crawled out to try to catch a late dinner. As we grilled it over the campfire, Jenn asked me, "So, you did order that Generic Viagra?" "Don't ask," I said, jokingly. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." "Yeah, I'd prefer to take it in my mouth," she said. You can imagine what came next.