Reblog... At your Own Risk...

    I take this opportunity to inform you all that I will answer any question sent to me. Anonymous or otherwise. 

    If you wish to have your own brain tickled… Aroused… Have your own desires explored… Reblog… I’ll be more than happy to invade your mind and find out what make you… Tick… 

    Please… By all means… Reblog… I’ll take it as a submission… 

    I dare you.

    Intro to Advertising

    Shit! I’m late. I grab my coffee, take a seat at my desk and open my laptop. Another semester of online classes… great. I like college. I swear I do. I’ve always been the smartest kid in the class. No other student’s brains compare to mine. That kinda sounds conceited but it’s true! I was top of the class last year. And I intend on keeping that title. No one will stop me.

    I load up Zoom and enter in the meeting code. First module of semester 2… “Intro to Advertising” it reads. Ten minutes late. No one’s gonna notice, right? The call finishes loading. I am met with the faces of fifteen other students. 

    “Looks like we have a latecomer.” The professor scoffs. “Eh… let’s see what your name is… Robert? Is that right?”

    I sit there like a deer in headlights, quickly regretting entering the class at all. I stare blankly at the screen before deciding to bite the bullet.

    “Yeah, that’s me. Sorry for being lat-“

    “We started ten minutes ago, Robert. This isn’t the best first impression. We’ve already started the discussion without you.” 

    We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. “Sorry” I smile awkwardly and turn off my microphone. Other students in the call smirk and snicker.

    What a dick. I was ten minutes late. I’ve never been called out like that before. In fact, I’m usually never late. This was the first time. And he still made a mockery of me. Jeez. Screw this guy. 

    I had never seen him before either. He sat upright in his chair as his bulging muscles strained against his shirt. He was in surprisingly good shape for his age. He looked around forty, maybe fifty? He’s basically bald but his body seems hairy. I can see his thick forearms covered with jet black fur and a tuft of chest hair poking out of his shirt . His beard is manly and thick. His voice was deep and commanding. He might have been hot but he was still a prick for calling me out.

    “So, as I was saying.” He glared at me. “Let’s discuss target demographics. When selling a product, businesses target their adverts towards specific groups based on factors such as income, age, race, sexual orientation and occupation.”

    The moustached professor continued on with his big spiel. I passively took notes from the slides until I heard the dreaded words.

    “Robert!” The professor sarcastically smiled. “How about we use you as an example?”

    I let out a fake smile. Fuck. Why me? I unmuted myself. “Sure”

    “Perfect.” The professor smiled and leaned back on his chair.

    “Let’s say… I’m selling gym equipment, okay? And you’re my target demographic.” The professor smirks a devilish grin. “Let’s say your name is Jackson, okay?”

    “Okay… my name is Jackson” I passively agree. Something about the professor’s words… they just spiralled in my head. Repeating. Spinning round and round in my mind.

    “Class.” He addressed the rest of the students. “If I’m trying to sell gym equipment to Jackson. What kind of target demographic do you think he’s is in?”

    Brad, the class jock, chimes in. “I’d say Jackson would be big and muscular. Like big pecs… and biceps and stuff.”

    I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Does he not hear how stupid that answer is? He sounds more like this supposed ‘Jackson’ than I do. I reach up and scratch my chest but something seems… off. I look down at my chest. It seems… swollen? It doesn’t normally look this big. I thought I was wearing an oversized shirt today. But it looks totally normal on me now. It fits me to a T. I lay my hand on my obsencely big chest, letting my fingers sink into my new fat pecs. Now that I’m looking, my hands seem unusually large too. My hands are supposed to be small and thin. I shouldn’t have thick fat sausage fingers. They’re huge! My eyes travel up my arm to see my huge biceps. My once think skinny arms are now monstrous beasts. I look like I lift weights every day, like one of those dumb jocks. Are people seeing what’s happening to me? Am I going crazy?

    Brad continued rambling on about this ‘Jackson’ character. What better person to describe a jock, than a jock. “Jackson would also like… hate wearing shirts, bro. He’d wanna show off that big bod of his. He’d be just like me and the other bros.”

    Suddenly, I feel the need to strip for my class. I want to just pull off my shirt and show them these new big muscles. Oh God, what’s happening to me? I can’t be actually turning into this fake ‘Jackson’… can I? That’s crazy. And yet, I can’t help but feel the need to just show off my beastly body. Maybe, I can just take it off for a bit. I can just show my muscles and then put it back on… yeah, totally. That’s not weird. People should see my body. It’s gonna feel so good to show off.

    I grab the bottom of my t-shirt and strip, putting my body on full display for everyone to see. I can’t deny, it feels to right to be shirtless. I don’t even want to think about covering myself up. I should just stay like this for the rest of the class. It won’t hurt anyone. I bounce my new tits playfully at the camera.

    “So, would a business target something like a book towards someone like Jackson?” The professor watches my bouncing tits and smiles.

    Callum, the posh kid, scoffs. “Jackson probably doesn’t even know how to read. He just spends all day at the gym. Flexing his muscles and jerking off to porno mags.” 

    As I absentmindedly play with my tits, I hear movement across the room. The noise is emanating from my bookshelf. I’ve spent years trying to fill it up. It’s got every book you can imagine. That bookshelf is one of the reasons for my grades. It’s filled with every literary classic you can imagine, from The Great Gatsby to Jane Eyre. The noise from the bookcase only grows louder. The books start vibrating. As if each book is trying to wiggle its way out of the shelf and onto the floor. My huge body sits helplessly in front of the Zoom call. I focus in on my favourite book, The Catcher in the Rye. I’ve been in love with that book ever since I was younger. I watch it wiggle and struggle as it slowly creeps closer to the edge. With one final wiggle, the book falls off the shelf and towards the floor. As the book falls, it elongates and becomes thinner. As it hits the floor, I hear a loud thud. I look down at the ‘book’ in horror. The book is now nothing more than a gay porn magazine. I try to think of the book it was before… but I can’t remember. All my knowledge of the book is gone. As if I had never read it. Each literary classic falls of the vibrating bookshelf. Each one of them becoming gay porn magazines as they hit the floor. With each thud, my brain shrinks a little bit more. All my literary knowledge is gone and now replaced by images of big cocks and fat fuckable asses.

    The thuds become too overwhelming for my brain to handle. I panic after seeing I had drooled all over my laptop. I glance back at the Zoom call to see everyone staring at me. Some students were laughing. Some were scoffing. They now saw me as some big dumb brute. 

    My jaw drops open, becoming slacked and lazy. I’m left looking like a dumb ape who can only breathe through his mouth. My brain feels so small now. As if the words of my professor and classmates have just drained my IQ. My head is beginning to feel so light. So floaty. Airy. It feels so… goooooooooood. Huhuhu, I cahnt stap dreeewlinggg, brah. My hed is sooooh emmmptyyy, broooh. 

    “Everyone is completely correct.” The professor smiles. “Jackson would be in the target demographic of dumb gym buffs in their early 20s.” 

    “Huhuhuhu yehhhh I ammmm” I chuckled dumbly.

    “Now Jackson, thank you for accepting to be our example for this class. But this degree is for smart, hardworking students. So, we won’t be needing you from here on out.”

    “Huhuhuhu, okaaayyyyy, sirrrrr. Taht makezz senze” I slurred.

    “Alright, Jackson. Say goodbye to the class.”

    “Byyyyyeeeee, brahs” I dumbly chuckle before Zoom closes.

    ‘You have been kicked from the call’ appears on the screen. I chuckle, grab one of the porno magazines off the floor and begin beating my 9 inch cock until I shoot my thick potent load all over it.

    ———————————————————————

    Jackson was now nothing more than a dumb smelly college drop out. The apartment which was once full of academic papers and literary classics was now littered with dirty underwear, gay porno mags and video games. By the end of the class, no one even remembered the high-achiever Robert. They only remember his new self, Jackson, the dumb fuckable jock who would never amount to anything in life.

    judasisgayriot

    The breadsticks thing to me is hilarious I think it must be another Europe/America thing bc my whole life ‘breadsticks’ have been these hard crunchy thin stick things you buy them at the supermarket and it says breadsticks on the box Never in my life has anyone around me referred to an actual stick of bread as a breadstick lmao But then we don’t have Olive Garden either

    samfuckingvimes

    wait, that’s not what they’re talking about?

    unreliablefairyservant

    Are you telling me this meme is not about grissini? My life is a lie!

    entomancy

    I… did wonder why there would be such a focus on going to somewhere with unlimited dry wheat twigs.  Googling ‘olive garden breadsticks’ does seem to suggest a tastier thing.

    Huh.

    crumplelush

    this changes everything

    little-fleur

    I mean, I thought it was odd that they everyone was so excited about breadsticks… but then I thought, well, it’s America…

    lachatblanche

    Wait they’re talking about actual bread???

    kernezelda

    grissini:

    image

    breadsticks:

    image
    cyanwrites

    … I want American breadsticks. ;_;

    shanology

    @goodbyecassiel - this is the Great Breadstick Misunderstanding, companion to the Epic Lemonade Confusion post

    charlottedabookworm

    Omfg same

    wtaf why did nobody ever tell us they were talking about actual bread?!?!

    garrettauthor

    We literally did tell you. We. We used the word BREAD.

    ardent-ace

    but………… those aren’t breadsticks!

    garrettauthor

    They are sticks.

    Of bread.

    🤷‍♂️

    crewdlydrawn

    We didn’t know you had breadtwigs instead.

    defectivegembrain

    OH the joke is funnier than previously thought because those are bigger and therefore it would be harder and more socially awkward to shove them into your purse! Lol

    runcibility

    I feel like this is explaining a joke to Vulcans who are totally game to try humor, and I’m loving it.