Jane and Dick #1

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Note: Jane and Dick was a free zine that was distributed throughout the
      Seattle area. The printed version contains a lot of sexy
      graphical layout that isn't present in this text-only version.       
      The publishers may be reached at galaxy@scn.org.


  __                                     _      ___ _      _    
  \ \  __ _ _ __   ___    __ _ _ __   __| |    /   (_) ___| | __
   \ \/ _` | '_ \ / _ \  / _` | '_ \ / _` |   / /\ / |/ __| |/ /
/\_/ / (_| | | | |  __/ | (_| | | | | (_| |  / /_//| | (__|   < 
\___/ \__,_|_| |_|\___|  \__,_|_| |_|\__,_| /___,' |_|\___|_|\_\
experiment 1        --          January 1997
ready for lift-off                  free smut
 **A little thing for the girl in my dreams...**

*Cool Cats:* Kirsten Bennett, Jon Ponsford, 
             Robert M Keefe, Mistress Lisa, 
             Hubba Hubba, Master Jimmie Bater, 
             Cyndi Goodman, Russ the Style Guy,
             Girl who stays up until 3:30 in the
                morning, hypnotized by the light 
                emanating from her monitor: Pepper Montana 

*Photos by:* Kerry Lee

             TO BE A JANE.


   Hey, Jane and Dick are in no way responsible for any weird, 
   depraved ideas you may derive from this publication. 

1. rolling sushi

       "Desire rests epidermis waiting. A hand waves in, to rub,
        to press, to lubricate and lucubrate, massage the skin 
        surface deeper, roll over sands of centuries one more 
        time one last time. The heart is in danger of drowning, 
        of being born underwater. The heart is a black mussel 
        that burrows when the shore is disturbed; the black 
        coachman driving seven one-footed stallions away from 
        the deluge, deep in the sands, far below the ambergris."

                  --Robert M Keefe

3. Going down south

STONE BLIND LOVE                    by jeannie britain

   I had never really noticed him before. In a company as large as the one
I worked for, a person didn't get to know her fellow workers very well.
Add to that the fact that we all had our separate little tawny-colored
cubicles and computer monitors and clunky old printers, it was a wonder I
met anyone at all.  But I did know my friend Celia who worked for the
personnel department. She knew him. 
   One day we were having lunch in the faux-happy lunchroom and talking. I
was bemoaning the poor quality of lovers available nowadays.

   "He was promising, at first. He probably got all nervous because I'm a
woman that knows the names of all the parts of my genitalia. So he drank
too much and right in the middle of cunnilingus...he passes out." 

   Celia chortled. 

   "So I left. If a guy isn't willing to make his first performance his
best, I mean, that's when you're trying to impress a new lover, am I
right? Then I'm not going to let him take a make-up test. Forget it." I
took another gulp of apple juice from my stained yellow sunshine mug. "So
here I am again. No lover. Just my wind-up toys and major appliances." 

   Celia smiled knowingly. "Ummm," she began innocently, "there's this
blind guy in your section who needs this special bulletin of company news
- he can't read the white board, you know, could you drop it by his
cubicle for me on your way back?" 

   That's how it started. 

   I poked my head around the wall of his cubicle, hoping to just put it
in some in-basket or something, but stopped when I saw his profile. It was
strong. It had something to say. It had depths worth learning to scuba
dive for. His head was divinely shaped. Roundish oval, with none of that
thick, lantern-jawed, heavy headedness that plagues so many big men. And
he was a big man. I could tell even though he was sitting down because his
knees were sort of stuffed underneath the regulation desk as he sat
typing. He had earphones on and his monitor off. His blind eyes were milky
blue, staring straight ahead. I like that. I liked that he didn't hide
them behind dark glasses just because they didn't work like ours. His eyes
reminded me of the French word for glasses, lunette. Lune like the moon
but with an unserious flourish at the end like an aging cheerleader. His
clothes were all tawny colored, loose t-shirt, dockers and leather ankle
books, like he was trying to blend in with his wall space. I wondered if
he had all of his clothes the same color so he didn't have to worry about
matching them.

   I must have stood there too long because he stopped typing, took off
his earphones, turned his head sort of sideways and sniffed the air. A
slow grin spread across his lips. God, I loved it. Being sniffed out was
so feral, so primal. I felt like a bitch in heat. 

   "Hey..." I stammered weakly, "Umm, I brought this a ... bulletin ...
for you ... I'm Jeannie." 

   "Max. Give it here." He swiveled his chair to face me, his whole body
faced me, his knees relaxed slightly apart. He didn't reach his hand out
or anything, just let them rest on the arms of his chair, smiling that
slow smile at me. 

   I stepped into his cubicle and felt my insides constrict. I could feel
his pheromones swooping around my pheromones midair like some demented
aircraft show. I held out the paper. He still didn't take it. 

	"Jeannie." (God, say it again like that and I'll wet myself),
"being blind and all, I sometimes can't find my way home after work. Do
you think you could walk me home? Like as a public service or something."
That slow grin again. I didn't think I could find my own way home at this
point. I played it cool. 

   "Well, sure. I'm a good samaritan and all. I assume you're a boy

   "I can light a fire." 

   Okay, that was really corny. But my pheromones forgave him. 

   At 5:05 I was at the door of his cubicle, hair freshly fluffed and red
lipstick on. I knew he couldn't see the lipstick but I had but it on
because lipstick always made me really aware of my lips and gave my speech
a slower, rounder quality. I wanted to be heard just right tonight. 

   He was waiting by his cubicle opening in a tawny colored loose-knit
cardigan.  When I came up, he took my elbow (crackle, crackle) and steered
me out of the building. The shock of real air hit us both. Max stopped and
breathed deeply, with obvious relief. 

   "This way," he said. He lead me to his apartment building three blocks
away.  We didn't speak at all. Max kept sniffing the air every once in
awhile and smiling that slow smile. I was a bit sad he couldn't be
affected by the scenery like I was. The summer sun was slanting across the
road and buildings, like hot yellow fingers touching everything
surreptitiously. That and his silence gave everything a sort of back-door
quality. Like what we were about to do would make a pro blush. I loved it. 

   The windows of his living room faced the east, allowing the dying sun
its finale. Drink in hand, I circled his apartment looking at the spare
furniture, the CDs with braille labels on the, the books in dark wood
bookcases. Max sat in a beige suede armchair sipping his drink serenely. I
stopped in front of a nut-brown wood table that was pushed against a
creme-colored wall. Pictures of Max at various states of life were hanging
in a circle. The silence was starting to unnerve me. 

"Are these all you?" I said, lamely. 

    "How would I know?" he answered, close behind me. Suddenly his arms
were around my waist and his face was buried in my hair. His gin-tinged
breath tingled the nape of my neck. 

    His hands explored the skin of my stomach and lower ribs, coming close
to my breast but shying away tantalizingly. His body was pressed full
length against the back of me, forcing my thighs in the edge of the table.
His hands moved to unclasp my pants, but he didn't pull them down. He
simply ran his hands under the waistband of my panties and moved them
around to my hips. He stroked my hips, waist and the sides of my ribs and
thighs maddeningly. 

    He was murmuring in my ear, "Ummm, this is the most neglected erotic
part of a woman's body, so sensitive, so soft, so needing, pay so much
attention to the front and the back, in between, it's both, ummm, yes,
almost tickles but stops short, just awakens the tension, can you hold it
in? ummmm..." 

    His fingers ran lightly over the sides of me and his low insistent
voice was so arousing I wanted to scream, I wanted to touch myself, but
more than that, I wanted him never to stop. 

    He did stop, briefly, one hand at a time, to dip his fingers in my
drink and then resume his stroking. The cold and the slight sting was
heightening the tension, coming close to unbearable. But I held out. Or,
more correctly, I held on, gripping the deep brown of the table. Then,
quickly, he used his stroking hands to gently push me down on the table
and rid me of my pants. I heard his zipper. He waited a few beats, just
enough time for me to realize my position, naked butt sticking out while I
half lay on the table like some naughty child waiting to be spanked. Then
he was in me. All my heightened nerve endings seemed to congregate in my
clitoris as he pushed into me again and again. The cool table top was
infuriating to my hot clit. I came again and again, wetting the deep brown
surface to black. He came, too, like he did everything, slowly, serenely
like he was really there and this was the only place to be. 

    After a space where we both got our breathing back to normal, he got
us back in order and helped me up, holding me tightly. I pulled away from
him and looked in his face. 

    "Wanna go best two out of three?" 

4. bushwacking
5. dating my palm


Lately, it seems everyone I talk to is complaining about not getting
enough action. Either the people they're interested in aren't responding
appropriately, or their partners only want it once a week when it takes
two or three to keep them happy. So, I decided to try and help. I am now
on a quest for a concoction which will drive your intended wild with
passion and desire. I'm trying everything out personally in my kitchen,
conveniently adjacent to my bedroom. 

The first two substances, which were brought to my attention thanks to HOT
PANTZ (Montreal,Que.), are cinnamon and cloves. The theory goes like this:
these spices work on the erogenous centers of your body by increasing the
blood flow to the peripheral organs. This leads to sexual stimulation.
They also smell and taste good. Might as well try it. What have you got to

Simmer 2 or 3 cloves and a pinch 
of cinnamon in one cup of red wine 
for a few minutes. Sweeten with 
honey or add lemon rind.

Place 9 whole cloves and 4 broken 
cinnamon sticks on a square of 
cheesecloth. Tie it up nice and tight. 
Put spice bag, 4 cups of apple cider, 
3 tablespoons of honey, and 2 tablespoons 
of lemon juice in a saucepan and heat, 
but do not boil. Discard bag and stir 
in 1/3 cup of brandy. Ladle mixture into 
cups and top each with a bit of butter, then 
stir with a cinnamon stick.

These drinks use booze which, as we all know from experience, loosens
inhibitions and can turn you on. They're also hot drinks. Have you ever
noticed people get much sicker when they've had too much of a hot, liquor
drink than too much cold beer? Be warned. (Remember how sexy it was when I
held a cold washcloth on your neck while you puked your guts out in the

What turns me on right now are girls with big noses.


T-Rex:                The Slider (or the photo on the inside 
                      cover of Electric Warrior)

Pixies:               Doolittle (o.k. any Pixies will do)

Miles Davis:          Live

My Life with the Thrill Kill Cult:  Sexsplosion

6. paddling my pink canoe


by quacky

I've been digging up online smut for ages, at least as long as anyone has
known there was online smut out there. So it seemed like a good idea to do
a little writing thing that would be helpful for other smut-heads to find
the great goods. 

I think probably the best things around are relatively low-tech, and
unglamorous. Sure everyone has heard about all the porn you can download
from the World-Wide Web, and that's really a whole bunch of really diverse
stuff. But in the past year or so the smut side of the web has really run
into a commercial frenzy. It seems like there's some kind of kit you can
buy, or some seminar held in motor inns nationwide that promises a
sure-fire way to make it rich as an online smut baron. I'll talk more
about that in another episode.

Right now, the best free stuff is available through the USENET newsgroups.
That would be anything starting with alt.sex... Here you'll find enough
going on to keep you occupied as a full time job for as far into the
future as you can imagine. Lots of the time you'll spend will be just
weeding out all the garbage that has no appeal or usefulness. I'm talking
about ads for commercial smut services on the web (anything that
advertises "free xxx pictures" is certainly trying to lure you to spend
money getting access to the good stuff), and flame wars ("Why the US
sucks! and Canada rulez!!!"). If you're serious about finding great smut
in the newsgroups you'll have to get some good software. In particular
look for a newsreader program that lets you sort things by size, filter
out annoying topics/people, and grab articles in big huge batches while
you sleep.

Or if you'd just like to sneak a peek every now and then (as opposed to
downloading everything you can get your hands on) try the newsreading part
of Netscape: it pretty much makes all the dirty picture newsgroups like
they were big huge collections of files just waiting for you to look. The
real problem with pictures though, even the ones you pay for, is that they
get really old really fast. If you're a jaded porn-surfer you'll probably
understand why 55 facial cum-shots just don't wash, or why anything that
bills itself as "lesbian"  really means "trite Penthouse soft focus
bullshit." I can think of lots of really exciting/disturbing pictures I've
grabbed over the years, but just like a paper porn-rag, it all starts to
diffuse into one big cunt-pink blur.

That's why if you're really looking for great wankin' material, I
recommend the alt.sex.stories newsgroups. Depending on the newsfeed you
get from your internet provider, you might find up to 1000 articles a day
just in the basic alt.sex.stories group. About two thirds of those will be
garbage, but if your newsreader can sort by size, you'll find that tons of
really long (sometimes up to 12-part) stories are waiting for you. Just
trash everything that's less than maybe 200 lines long (the Agent or Free
Agent programs will tell you how many lines -- go to
http://www.forteinc.com to get these; I'm pretty dumb about Mac news
programs, but I know the 'gold standard' one is called Newswatcher). 

Then it's best to try to sift through what's left to find subject lines
that appeal to you. Some geeks figured out a scheme by which to classify
articles according to what kind of stories they are, so you can use that
to find things that are strictly boy-man-bondage-enema stories, or
virgin-huge-dick-oral-anal stories, or mother-son-incest-orgy stories. Not
everyone follows the subject schemes, so take time to look at other ones
that appeal; some really long, ongoing stories have a character called
Missy in them who gets into all sorts of sexy trouble; there's also some
500+ chapter sci-fi deal where furry aliens with double genitals have sex
with regular earthling-like space people; lots and lots and lots of incest
and pedophilia topics; a little BDSM kinda stuff, but it's not really full
of real high quality scenes (maybe there's more in alt.sex.bondage?); a
little bit of golden-showers, a little scat, lots more enemas than you'd
imagine; not too much violent rape (yay!), but a great deal of
non-consensual sex. 

I could go on and on, and that's why I'll keep writing other columns about
online smut. You might look forward to discussions of pay-for websites,
discussions about the sociology of online smut, discussions of porn vs.
smut vs.  erotica and where to find each kind, umm.. what else...? I guess
it would be a good thing to give a list of good URLs, but really that's
just a matter of surfing a little bit since everything is pretty much tied
together out there. I should try to write one column about why men
dominate online porn, although it's pretty much self-evident why. That
would be a good place to put lots of links to things out there that are
(supposedly) done by women. Oh yeah, I could really go off on the topic of
the quality of smut you'll find at pay-for sites, wait, I think I already
mentioned that. 

I'm still schlepping around, trying to letch free smut, so if you want to
send me stuff I'm at quacky@rocketmail.com. 

Let the games begin..

A note on Porn

Reasons I encourage people to watch porn:

              It can make you more comfortable with sex('cause you see how 
                             ridiculous everyone looks)

                                  it turns you on 

                       Gives you ideas for new things to try 

                                  it turns you on  

           It's good to see how other peoples bodies are different and funky 

                                  it turns you on  

                 It's more fun than watching monkeys do it on PBS 

I advocate for porn. I 've heard awful stories of women who have been
tragically hurt through the porn industry. However, like everything else
in life, there are people who are going to make a good product, who treat
their employees with respect and fairness, and there are people who are
going to be abusive and deceitful.  Buy, rent, and use porn responsibly.
(Especially products from the newer companies who are owned and run by
women, rock on babes.) 

hey, what good are you if you look hot, but you can't figure out where it is? 
[nice diagram of a girl's best parts]
stay tuned for the next issue: what to do once you've found it.

Porno Tape Reviews!!!

      Produced by Vivid Video: 2/17/93
      Starring: Savannah and Teri Weigel
      Also starring:  Moana Lisa, Flame, 
               Peter "cum shot king" North, 
               Marc "gotta get a haircut" Wallice, 
               and Tom "bent Dick" Byran

Here's my general review:  Lick, lick, lick, suck, suck, suck, fuck, fuck,
fuck.  The women all have amazingly fake breasts, and the men are mostly
icky. My favorite line is when the camera man asks Savannah, "Do you like
girls? Are you a homo?" Don't worry boys, Savannah says she likes dick.
Basically, boring vanilla sex. Whatever. 

THE BEST: A scene on a park bench where the woman is wearing a great fall
and pseudo fetish gear, putting on nipple clamps. 

THE WORST: a) Clearly they spent more money on the cover box than the
movie. (I have a suspicious feeling I'm going to say this in more than one
review.) b)  Do the words "edit" mean anything to you? 
               -- Lisa

O.K. Let's see what I can say about this lovely contribution to the adult
entertainment world. Bluntly, this video sucks. If I could go out on a limb
here, I'd say you'd probably get more stimulation out of those crappy "corner
market" 3-pack skin rags for under 10 bucks than this flick.

In addition to my review of this waste of money, let me say, it is a pure
collectable. Seeing as it has the now dead Savannah who committed suicide
after an automobile accident fucked up her face, and Teri Weigel "I was a
magazine playmate who only did a mere handful of adult features". If you
purchase for the intent of collecting, by all means do so. If you rent for
the purpose of spanking the monkey (petting the kitty?), my advice is get
an ice-cream cone instead. Both the video and the ice-cream will leave you
flaccid, but at least with the ice-cream you'll have something that tastes
nice in your mouth and some change in your pocket. 

Likes: the two big stars are drop-dead gorgeous buxom babes (if you go for
that sort of thing) 

Dislikes: The sex is boring. To add insult to injury, as a prelude to the
so-called erotic scenes, they interview the women. If these babes got in a
battle of wits with a rock, the rock would win. 

               -- Hubba Hubba

               "Nasty Nymphos #14"
               Produced by Anabolic Video Productions 
Contrary to "Battle of the Superstars, "Nasty Nymphos #14" is a tasty
little video morsel worth seeing. It includes interviews with the players,
however, they're funny and somehow bring an element of realism to the
production. It's a pleasure to view this in an industry which is littered
with mostly fake portrayals of sexual situations.  "Nasty Nymphos #14" is
a thumbs up.  If this turns you on as much as it does me, rent or buy.
It's a keeper. 

Likes: Lot's of shaved or well trimmed genitals, hot anal humps, and shared
facial come shots that looked like they tasted delicious.

Dislikes: 1) There was only one scene out of a handful that was truly
disappointing. Sure, the woman was hot, but I personally hate it when they
have absolutely annoying, unrealistic dialogue. I mean really, "Yea baby,
give me what I want." I would laugh my ass off if, after hearing this, the
stud stopped fucking her, handed her the damn paycheck, and left the
room.2)  I couldn't decide if this scene was funny or just downright
creepy: This woman started talking in a little girls voice. She did it
very well, and in any other situation it would have been a real hoot, but
in sex, kinda creepy. Maybe it's because I have such a hatred for
pedophiles. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty perverted in a consenting adult
kinda way. I'm open minded and all, but for Christs sake, leave the kids
out of it. I know, I know, the woman was an adult, but it still left me
with an uneasy feeling. Until next time, keep spankin'

                -- Hubba Hubba

General review: "2 hours 20 minutes of ass stretching, sperm slurping
sex!!!"  Hey, are you excited yet? "6 all new sex scenes, 7 sexy sluts (5
of them getting fucked in the ass), double penetration, double vaginal,
cum eating and more!!!" 

All the actors are interviewed before their scenes, which I find annoying,
because how are you supposed to answer the question: "What do you want the
world to know about you?" , when you have two cocks in your mouth? 

What I didn't like: Women slurping away at cum. Men never have to eat that
shit.  Well, at least not in straight videos. 

What I liked: The women, for the most part, seem to have real body parts.
Many of the couples seem to at least like each other. They even kiss.
Whoa! AND the men are pretty gentle. (I really hate porn where a guy is
ramming his dick into her like a train, she looks like she'd rather be
giving birth, but she's screaming "MORE!") The DP shot (double penetration
for your information) is interesting and has some artistic moments. All
and all fine, if what you want is straight forward sex. 

Lisa Lee thanks Darren for the use of his vast video collection for
reviewing purposes.

                  -- Lisa

Train Theory, by Pepper

I believe it all started about the time I was living in a small house
located next to the tracks in an industrial part of the city. In the
middle of the night I'd wake up, startled, out of a sound, peaceful sleep.
The entire house would be shaking as the trains rolled by. It would alarm
and excite me. Trains were brought to the forefront of my consciousness. I
started paying attention to the sounds they made, to the rhythms and
movement they produced. I waited for them during the day, and when I would
hear one coming I would run into my room, lie on my bed, flat on my back,
and feel my entire body shake to the rhythm. I closed my eyes and imagined
the weight of the train as its wheels ground against the metal of the
tracks. I would imagine how it felt to lie in between the rails and have
the train rush over me, feeling its power. It's fury. I started to keep
careful documents of when trains would pass by. The day, the time , the
duration. I added special details for different types of trains.
Passenger, freight, livestock.  I noticed how different trains produced
different sounds.  Different motions. I would anxiously await the time,
each day, when my favorite trains would pass by. I would situate myself on
the bed a few minutes early and tasting anticipation of what was to come.
Lying on my back I felt the shaking start. I listened the awesome noises
of metal against metal. Wheels turning.  Boxcars shaking. Halfway through
the run I turned over on my stomach and let my body feel the bed shaking
beneath me. I worked myself into a frenzy and finally blew as the last car
passed by. 

Soon waiting for trains to come wasn't satisfying enough. I needed more. I
went out to a uniform store, and bought a striped monkey suit and cap
which I figured a guy who worked on a train would wear. I sailed home,
threw on my duds and admired myself in front of the mirror, imagining what
it would feel like to work on a train and be inside her at all times. Next
I ventured out to the hobby shop and bought one of each model train car I
could find. There were so many my head was spinning. I bought lengths of
track I could arranged around the perimeter of my bed, and a small
realistic sounding whistle I could control with a hand held remote. I
spent days scrounging in antique stores until I found a huge bell with a
long chain. It made a harrowing clanking sound when I pulled it that sent
shivers down my spine. I went home and spent three days and three nights
assembling my new found treasures with tender fingers. I painted boxcars
bright colors and gave them each special names, like Babs and Sophie,
which I wrote in script on their sides. I laid out the track and I even
built a bridge so the train could pass over the center of my bed, with
just enough room between the mattress and the tracks for me to lie
comfortably underneath.  I mounted the bell directly above my head, so I
could just reach the chain with my right hand.  Then I waited, close to
desperation, for the next train to fly by. 

After much time had passed, I clicked on the motor and let my train take a
few laps of it's track.  I removed all my clothes and set some of the
models on my bare skin. One on my left thigh, one on my right. one on its
side on my genitals, one on my stomach, one over each nipple, and one
across my neck. I put two at the base of my feet so I could curl my toes
around them. I pushed the button to make the whistle give some preemptory
toots, and fingered the car on my belly feeling every surface with
mounting excitement. Then I heard it, the sound starting far away, growing
closer with every second. I felt my body tense with anticipation. I took
some deep breaths, trying to calm myself down, afraid I'd loose it before
I even started. The metal cars tingled against my skin, and as the train
outside began to vibrate my bed, each of my little trains were shaking and
rattling all over my body. They moved, ever so slightly, back and forth as
if yearning to hook up and dig in. I rang the bell and grimaced as waves
of pleasure took over my entire being, and as the last cars were soaring
away and the shaking about to subside, I grabbed the toy at my cunt,
plunged it into my hole, and kept rolling and rolling and rolling...

I think about girls.
I think about girls a lot. I sit in coffee houses and watch girls talk to
one another. I stare at their hair. I gaze at their skin. I get up for a
refill and walk close to their table so I can smell their scent. I sit
behind them and wonder what it would be like to touch their hair. I wonder
how it would feel to push their hair to one side and kiss the back of
their neck while breathing in their air. I think about running my hands
over their shoulders and down their arms to their hands, lacing my fingers
in theirs. I think about sitting beside them and reaching over to kiss
their lips. Watching their eyes close in anticipation as my face draws


Singular Pleasures
by Harry Mathews

When I think of masturbation, I tend to think of people in Western society
masturbating in the privacy of their own homes, well, maybe some of them
in a park. How lame. This book opened my eyes. Although I wouldn't call
this erotic and it didn't excite me or make me want to get myself off, it
drove home the concept that everyone, everywhere masturbates. It consists
of small vignettes, each a paragraph in length, describing various scenes
where masturbation is taking place. The ages of the characters are from
nine to ninety (not grandpa!)  and they span the globe from a small tribe
in Africa, to a farmer in China, to an Eskimo wacking off on an iceberg.
The diversity represented in the various methods of masturbation is also
worth mentioning. It's a quick read. Check it out. 

Betty Page Queen of Pin-Up
by Benedikt Taschen

Hours of enjoyment. I would much rather view vintage photos of pin-up
girlies than the soft-focused lens, bleached blonde, tummy tucked,
basketball boob job girls one finds in magazines today. And Betty is
dreamy. This book's got pages of photos spanning her career, along with
some... writing of some sort... I was rather distracted. 

What turns me on right now:

Boys who wear nail polish

Girls who wear nail polish that's all chipped. 'Cause they care, but not
too much

17. jilling off
18. petting the kitty

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