All My Dumbfucks
Sex, sex, sex. Video sex gets boring after a while,
but it’s what sells and besides, there’s little else to
do in Pine Valley anyway. Tuesday, Devon
Shepherd (who we thought was so sweet)
showed she was into it more than anyone would
have guessed.
Oh, the beginning was innocent alright. Danny
and Brooke had just returned from viewing
Roman Polanski’s new film (close encounters of
the third grade) and since the Martins were in
Nairobi for the week (picking up a few nick-nacks)
the two had the house to themselves. Then,
Deven came knocking at the door, sporting a new
coat that went clear to her ankles.
Looked like it was going to be the same old
boring triangle, but Devon took off her coat to
reveal a leather outfit and a whip. You can fill in the
details, but the experience taught Brooke a thing
or two and showed Danny the pleasures of S and
M. The last time we saw Danny, he was doing
unmentionable things to small animals.
Down the block and to the left the musky odor
from the Brent’s represented the solution of one of
the longest running crisis in Pine Valley: the
Chuck, Phil, Tara triangle. It’s over because
there’s no need to compete anymore. The three,
and Donna, all got married to each other yester
day. It was the first group marriage in Pine Valley
(it would never sell in Harrisburg) and their hon
eymoon is turning out to be a doozy.
The trapeze broke, the mirrors fell off the roof
and the monkey will probably never forgive
Chuck, but the four are tired and happy. Donna’s
background in Center City (where a few of her
customers were really kinky) is finally coming in
handy. Chuck and Phil had a little trouble adjust
ing to the new aspect of their relationship, but
they’ve adjusted so well that Donna and Tara had
to remind ’em there was women around waiting
for some action. After all, not many people have
Phil’s ability to touch their eyebrows with their
tongues.
Person hood
study begins
A weekend study approach to
“Becoming a Real Person’ will
consist of workshops and semi
nars beginning Saturday at the
Conference Centerfor Fulfillment.
The total approach to “Person
hood" will give positive tools to in
crease awareness of self
artificiality and non-existence, ac
cording to founder Sue Schizoid.
Students think they know who
they are, but they really don’t,
Schizoid says, and for a $250 fee
they can interact with persons of
similar indentities or misidentities,
and thus “get it all together.”
To register, try to contact
Schizoid either at 666-5687 or
561-3301.
Dear Comrade
Dear Comrade Conrad,
What gives with these re
visionists anyhow? I have a friend
who argues that there may never
be a revolution in the way Marx
predicted. How can he say such a
thing? The silly fool doesn't know
his use-value from his exchange
value. But I bet him my Lenin Li
brary that the proletariat takes on
the bourgeoisie within the next
year and whips them to boot. How
can I lose?
Nary A. Doubt
Dear Nary,
Start packing your Lenin Library
for delivery. The proles show little
sign of taking on the defending
champions in the next year, let
alone a knockout. But you can tell
your friend that I have reason to
believe that the ruling class is los
ing its grip on the masses. Note
the following:
•Disco dancing is on its way
out. The masses are becoming in
creasingly aware that John
Travolta is just another tool of the
disco ruling class.
•Leon Spinks is a tough black
kid who proves that the youth of
this country are not going to take
any more guff from the ruling
class. Driving without a license
down the wrong way of a one-way
street, and refusing to buy a plate
for his missing front teeth shows
that Spinks is in naked opposition
to the bourgeoisie.
Do you know why your best
friends are smearing you behind
your back as a running-dog pup
pet of the ruling class? Is Dad be
having like a fascist around the
house? Do you suspect your wife
is having an affair with a Social
Democrat? If you are a Marxist
with hangups, send your troubles
to Comrade Conrad, Rockefeller
Plaza, New York, N.Y. (We aren't
afraid of the Smith Act.)
GRAB for all the GUSTO
By GUNSHY FLYNT
Of the Immorald
I had noticed her when I called
roll the first day of class.
“Here,” she answered coyly.
Her figure tooked tasty, garbed
in a powder blue sweater and tight
black pants. Her wavey, blond hair
gently curled onto her shoulders.
A narrow Grecian nose nestled
between two round, blue eyes.
She would be one to remember.
It wasn’t until spring that we fi
nally came together. I had casu
ally mentioned if she ever needed
help with one of her assignments,
she should feel free to drop by my
office.
The office visit led to a coffee
break, a luncheon date, a rac
quetball date and finally, a dinner
date.
She arrived that evening in a
satin V-neck halter dress that
clung to her every movement. The
V-neck reached its nadir just
above her navel, exposing two
tanned globes that gently qui
vered as she walked.
A slit down the side of her dress
revealed a smooth, brown thigh.
The yellow dress rolled around
her firm, tight derriere. A creation
from Eden.
Dinner seemed to pass quickly,
Light chit-chat, giggling, flirting.
The flickering candlelight pirouet
ting in her eyes.
With the decanter empty, we
stepped to the velvet, circular
sofa. My heart beat with the force
of 100 drums in anticipation.
Her warm, moist lips touched
mine. I thrust my tongue forward.
She dropped her caressing fin
gers to my thigh, igniting a turgid
fire in my tains.
Our tongues embraced, shim
mied, and waltzed. My simmering
blood surged through my body. I
stroked her tender peaches and
began to grope along her thigh
(Continued on Page 13B)
""'1
Pump a little lead
into someone's chest
Do you like visiting exotic lands, meeting
interesting people and killing them?
Read on.
The U of O Assassin Team Needs Sharpshooters
1. Practice — any target, preferably moving and defenseless.
Field manuveurs in the EMU Fishbowl, ambushes in sections HB through HX in the
Library, sniping from atop PLC, fire fights in the graveyard.
2. Instruction by Sarah Moore and Squeaky Fromme.
Test: Art Bremer’s “Sometimes a Great Notion.”
3. For more information contact I.M. Hawk — password, “Bay of Pigs.”