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I just wanted to read the smut
2003-03-21 - 1:46 a.m.


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So I'm in the grocery store, yet again.

(I'm always in the motherfucker.)

Anyway, I'm in the grocery store, and for the first time in half a year or more, I decide to check out the magazines.  Specifically and to-wit, the psuedo girly magazines.

You know the type, the one with girls in them, barely wearing clothes and mocked up interviews.  Lotta' advertisments for booze and cologne.

Airbrushed everywhere.

Men's mags.

And one has the m*ller l*te girls on the cover, the two in the tawdry commercial I dig, where big breasted girls scrap and roll all over each other for no apparent reason, ending with the breathy statement by my fav 'lets make out.'.

(american tv...puritan morals...whatever.  My favorite program remains to this day, the one that was on when I woke up early in Venice, Italy, flipped on the boob tube after a walk around with no one awake, and there was a naked girl dancing at something like six am, weather temperatures, soccer scores, and headlines scrolling underneath her. 

Genius)

I am a cheap bum of simple amusement.  But I know what I like.

So I'm intrigued.  I pick up the magazine with the two sultry vixens's on the cover, drenched in something wearing bikini's, and as soon as I TOUCH the fucker, I'm cornered by an old lady asking for help.

"Could you help me reach something?"  she asked.

So I say sure, and then she has me busting my ass all over the dairy department like I'm a milk maid without a cause, carrying this piece of pseudo pornography with me.

All bossy and conversive. Talked about me after I walked away.

I just wanted to look at the smut.


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