You Can Only Masturbate To Italian Chef Sculptures Outside Of Pizza Places For So Long Before Wanting The Real Thing

Top Headlines

Recent News

Journeyman Fan Joins Sixth NFL Team In 5 Years

HELENA, MT—Continuing his lengthy trek around the league, sources confirmed Friday that 36-year-old journeyman fan Brian Ferretti has joined the Arizona Cardinals, his sixth team in the past five years.

Is The Nation Ready For The Next Katrina?

Friday marks the 10-year anniversary of when Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans, and many commentators have argued that not enough has been done over the past decade to address infrastructure and emergency response issues that could put coastal cities nationwide, including New Orleans, at risk of a catastrophe on a similar scale. Is the nation prepared for another Katrina?

Department Of Labor Study Confirms Your Job Most Demanding

‘None Of Your Friends Understand How Hard It Is,’ Report Reads

WASHINGTON—Noting that the level of mental strain associated with the profession was far and away the highest recorded, a federal study on workplace conditions and occupational stress released Thursday has confirmed that your job is the most demanding career in the entire nation, and that none of your friends or family fully understand how hard it is.

Neighborhood Starting To Get Too Safe For Family To Afford

CHICAGO—Explaining that the sense of unease she felt walking to and from her home had declined markedly over the years, Humboldt Park resident Kirsten Healy expressed her disappointment to reporters Thursday that her neighborhood was becoming too safe for her family to afford.
End Of Section
  • More News
TV Listings
Just Like Everything Else!: Fox 8 p.m. EDT/7 p.m. ABC Pete's wife is still on him about building that darn shed, these kids are going to be the death of Sheila and Dave, and the hot next-door neighbor is up in EVERYBODY'S business! Sunday nights on ABC couldn't be any more familiar!

Special Coverage

Preparedness

Ice Cream Truck Driver Going To Let These Kids Sweat A Little Bit Before Stopping

MILWAUKEE—Admitting that he’ll never get tired of looking in his rearview mirror and seeing their little legs going at full speed as they struggle to catch up to him, local ice cream truck driver Derek Kenney said that he once again planned on making the children on Maple Avenue sweat it out a little bit before stopping his vehicle.

Entertainment

  • How Theaters Are Trying To Win Back Moviegoers

    The number of Americans who went to the movies hit a 20-year low in 2014, leaving theaters scrambling to find ways to incentivize the public to see new releases on the big screen rather than watch films at home or on the internet. Here are some methods theaters are using to win back audiences and increase box office sales:

You Can Only Masturbate To Italian Chef Sculptures Outside Of Pizza Places For So Long Before Wanting The Real Thing

You know those statues of Italian chefs that some pizza places have out front? I’m sure you’ve seen them around just about everywhere—little waist-high sculptures planted on the sidewalk, welcoming customers into the pizzeria with an outstretched arm and a broad, coquettish grin. As soon as you catch sight of those stout little figures, you’ll notice them all over the place. And once you really look them over, you’ll see they’re sexy as hell. In fact, they drive me absolutely wild every time I get one in my sights, and I’d go ahead and say those statues are one of my favorite things to masturbate to.

But I’ll tell you, that’s the problem right there: The fact is, you can only jack off to Italian chef sculptures outside of pizza joints for so long before you’ve just got to have the real thing.

Now don’t get me wrong, those sculptures are great and I love concealing myself in nearby shrubbery and bringing myself to climax while staring at them. The bushy mustache, the bright red kerchief knotted around the neck, the bulbous ceramic nose. Not to mention those flushed cheeks, the bottle of Chianti clutched in a tantalizingly plump hand, and the puffy white smock that just barely covers the figure’s pudgy pot belly. And sometimes, just sometimes, three sausage-like fingers brought to the chef’s pursed, slightly open lips in a wordless “delizioso!” That’s just plain hot, no question about it.

But the fact is, these statues can only get my blood pumping so many times before I’ve got to up the ante, and lately that’s had me fantasizing about finding a living, breathing Italian chef to fixate on as I bring myself to a quaking orgasm.

God, just thinking about the genuine article has my prick throbbing so hard right now. The sleazy Sicilian accent, the exaggerated hand gestures, the apron stained with bolognese sauce. He’s wearing a crumpled white chef’s hat and he’s breathing heavily as he twists and pummels the pizza dough with his meaty, experienced fingers. Ooh, yeah. There’s no fan in the kitchen and he sweats all the way through his dirty undershirt. His mouth opens slightly and his tongue hangs slack out one side as he spins the dough up into the air, again and again and again. Mmm, that’s what I’m talking about!

I’m sorry, but a dinky little statue—no matter how high its eyebrows are arched—just can’t compete with something like that.

Sure, I’ve had some unbelievable orgasms looking at those seductive little chefs. Just last month I was at my usual red vinyl booth at Santino’s Pizzeria and locked eyes with their naughty statue making an “A-okay” gesture and winking, and was pushed over the exhilarating edge of climax when the opening strains of a Luciano Pavarotti song came over the restaurant’s speakers. But now I just hunger for so much more.

Honestly, feasting my eyes on a real, rotund Italian chef is all I’ve been able to think about lately. Even earlier today, when I was crouched behind the dumpster in the alley across the street from Roberto’s Pizza & Subs and fondling myself to that tasty little fiberglass number they’ve got chained up by their entrance, I couldn’t stop visualizing that statue’s real-life counterpart holed up in a steamy trattoria kitchen somewhere, the sinews on his hairy forearms bulging as he takes that big, long paddle and thrusts it into the oven to pull out a steaming pie. Aw, yeah! Or maybe he could be working on a vat of thick, creamy Alfredo sauce and some of it bubbles up and splashes his greasy, protruding chest hair. Yes, yes! Or maybe he’s slowly swirling a ladle of tomato sauce around on the hand-tossed dough, and ever so perfectly crimping the crust with his deft fingertips until I can’t even take it anymore!

Mamma mia indeed!

When I get this worked up, even the clip-art Italian chef on the laminated menu taped to a pizzeria’s front window gets me rock hard. It makes me just want to burst into the back of the kitchen and watch that big, hairy cook pound his muscular fist into a ball of floured dough! The bottom line is that stroking yourself underneath a balled-up jacket on your lap while staring intently at the slutty little miniature chef sculpture holding up a plate of breath mints by the cash register can only get you off for so long.

This isn’t high school anymore, when I could just jerk it to the cartoon mascot with a tomato for a hat on the front of the Tony’s frozen pizza box, or stay home with a bottle of K-Y Jelly and fast forward to all the pizza-making scenes in Do The Right Thing like I did every night for years. No, if I really want to get off—and I mean really get off—I’ve got to take risks. And that means chasing my dreams of hiding in a restaurant pantry and beating myself raw while peeking out at a husky second-generation Italian-American chef panting away as he vigorously slices hot pizzas into eight perfect wedges as I tremble and gasp with ecstasy next to the large plastic containers of cheese and red pepper flakes behind him.

So if you’ll excuse me, it’s about time for me to put up or shut up. I’m heading on over to Little Italy, and if all goes well I ought to be arriving just as a number of fine establishments open for lunch. Buon appetito, amici!