I did it too!
Correspondent:: "iDRMRSR"
Date: Tue, 2 Nov 2004 19:19:26 -0500
--------
I wondered what the line going into my old Junior High School was. You got
in line to exercise the finest pleasure of democracy, the vote.
The voting mistress checked my identity and signature and assigned me ballot
#286. That's the way this worked, kind of like Eyes Wide Shut. This kind
of party, a willing male voter was matched up at random to a naked ballot
wrapped in a privacy shield.
You get to go into a booth after the previous couple has done the deed.
A bead of sweat trickled down my brow. I could feel the frigid ballot
quivering in the folds of its outer covering, ready to yield to me unseen,
hoping I would be gentle and wise.
As I entered the booth, I slowly lowered the privacy cover to reveal the
porcelain white of its skin. I gently lowered it into the slot to prepare
for the deep probing of its secrets...when suddenly it called to
me...please, please, not this way, turn me over. I guess I too was filled
with anticipation, so filled with the promise of a forthcoming rush of
sensation, that I was about to enter from the rear in my hurry.
We giggled a little bit as I fondled the derriere of the ballot which
squealed as I slipped it into the slot. I firmly rubbed the red nipples at
the top until they were firm and engaged the punch card just so. It gave
such a sigh, and then heaved and undulated as I reached for my probe.
Gently I slid apart the pages of the ballot, caressing the seams in the
middle lovingly from bottom, to middle, to top. I took out my probe and
playfully tickled the ballot's holes, first Republican, then Democratic,
then undecided, and the ballot quivered with my every touch. "Pierce me!
Pierce me now!" it squealed.
I righted myself on the booth, grabbing the upper left hand of the table to
steady myself, and as the ballot was now fully lubricated, inserted my probe
for the first stroke. I first felt the ballot's resistance but our mutual
juices slowly allowed my probe to enter, full shaft, into the ballot hole.
We sighed together as one.
But there were more candidates...more issues. I withdrew my probe slowly,
but the vaccuum made a small pop and the ballot under me heaved. But as I
was now in the throes of passion, I quickly selected another hole, and as my
probe was slippery with our decision juices, was able to ram it in
fast...full shaft.
Again and again I withdrew my probe, plunged for this judge, that
councilman, this tax, that issue. The musk of this exercise of our freedom
filled the small booth with a heady perfume. When I reached the end of the
ballot, I was completely overtaken by the moment.
I withdrew from the last slot, and then placed my limp probe back in its
sheath after filling the porcelain ballot with the seed of my choices. The
ballot lay silent as I peeled its alabaster body, now full of holes, from
the red nipples at the top and turned it over to check, lovingly, for chads.
Finding none, I recovered the now sleeping ballot with the privacy envelope,
and exited the booth.
The voting matron winked an eye at me, for she could smell the musky funk we
left behind in booth #3, precinct 3A. It was no secret to her what went on
in that small compartment, which now was free.
"Next..." said the matron.
Recovering slightly from what I had just done, I asked her, "Now where my I
go and smoke?"
[*]
-----
Correspondent:: HdMrs. Salacia the Overseer
Date: Tue, 02 Nov 2004 18:49:26 -0600
--------
On Tue, 2 Nov 2004 19:19:26 -0500, "iDRMRSR"
wrote:
>I wondered what the line going into my old Junior High School was. You got
>in line to exercise the finest pleasure of democracy, the vote.
>
>The voting mistress checked my identity and signature and assigned me ballot
>#286. That's the way this worked, kind of like Eyes Wide Shut. This kind
>of party, a willing male voter was matched up at random to a naked ballot
>wrapped in a privacy shield.
>
>You get to go into a booth after the previous couple has done the deed.
>
>A bead of sweat trickled down my brow. I could feel the frigid ballot
>quivering in the folds of its outer covering, ready to yield to me unseen,
>hoping I would be gentle and wise.
>
>As I entered the booth, I slowly lowered the privacy cover to reveal the
>porcelain white of its skin. I gently lowered it into the slot to prepare
>for the deep probing of its secrets...when suddenly it called to
>me...please, please, not this way, turn me over. I guess I too was filled
>with anticipation, so filled with the promise of a forthcoming rush of
>sensation, that I was about to enter from the rear in my hurry.
>
>We giggled a little bit as I fondled the derriere of the ballot which
>squealed as I slipped it into the slot. I firmly rubbed the red nipples at
>the top until they were firm and engaged the punch card just so. It gave
>such a sigh, and then heaved and undulated as I reached for my probe.
>
>Gently I slid apart the pages of the ballot, caressing the seams in the
>middle lovingly from bottom, to middle, to top. I took out my probe and
>playfully tickled the ballot's holes, first Republican, then Democratic,
>then undecided, and the ballot quivered with my every touch. "Pierce me!
>Pierce me now!" it squealed.
>
>I righted myself on the booth, grabbing the upper left hand of the table to
>steady myself, and as the ballot was now fully lubricated, inserted my probe
>for the first stroke. I first felt the ballot's resistance but our mutual
>juices slowly allowed my probe to enter, full shaft, into the ballot hole.
>We sighed together as one.
>
>But there were more candidates...more issues. I withdrew my probe slowly,
>but the vaccuum made a small pop and the ballot under me heaved. But as I
>was now in the throes of passion, I quickly selected another hole, and as my
>probe was slippery with our decision juices, was able to ram it in
>fast...full shaft.
>
>Again and again I withdrew my probe, plunged for this judge, that
>councilman, this tax, that issue. The musk of this exercise of our freedom
>filled the small booth with a heady perfume. When I reached the end of the
>ballot, I was completely overtaken by the moment.
>
>I withdrew from the last slot, and then placed my limp probe back in its
>sheath after filling the porcelain ballot with the seed of my choices. The
>ballot lay silent as I peeled its alabaster body, now full of holes, from
>the red nipples at the top and turned it over to check, lovingly, for chads.
>Finding none, I recovered the now sleeping ballot with the privacy envelope,
>and exited the booth.
>
>The voting matron winked an eye at me, for she could smell the musky funk we
>left behind in booth #3, precinct 3A. It was no secret to her what went on
>in that small compartment, which now was free.
>
>"Next..." said the matron.
>
>Recovering slightly from what I had just done, I asked her, "Now where my I
>go and smoke?"
>
>[*]
>-----
>
Eww! I had my KID with me when I voted! She even got a sticker!
Telling all those trashy pollsters she'd already been serviced at the
red light precinct! Aieeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Correspondent:: Hilbert Hooper Aspaspia
Date: Wed, 03 Nov 2004 01:55:18 GMT
--------
"iDRMRSR" wrote in
news:ZoCdnYCmnLmQuRXcRVn-1Q@giganews.com:
> I wondered what the line going into my old Junior High School was.
> You got in line to exercise the finest pleasure of democracy, the
> vote.
>
That's it.
I'm moving to Ohio.
Of course, six months after I arrive the voting machines will be upgraded.
Correspondent:: HdMrs. Salacia the Overseer
Date: Tue, 02 Nov 2004 20:18:10 -0600
--------
On Wed, 03 Nov 2004 01:55:18 GMT, Hilbert Hooper Aspaspia
wrote:
>"iDRMRSR" wrote in
>news:ZoCdnYCmnLmQuRXcRVn-1Q@giganews.com:
>
>> I wondered what the line going into my old Junior High School was.
>> You got in line to exercise the finest pleasure of democracy, the
>> vote.
>>
>That's it.
>I'm moving to Ohio.
>Of course, six months after I arrive the voting machines will be upgraded.
>
CONSPIRACY!!!!!!
In Illinois our votes don't count cuz we vote with a magic marker on
a mimiographed ballot.
Correspondent:: djcameron60616@yahoo.com (delfuego)
Date: 3 Nov 2004 09:32:07 -0800
--------
"iDRMRSR" wrote in message news:...
> I wondered what the line going into my old Junior High School was. You got
> in line to exercise the finest pleasure of democracy, the vote.
>
> The voting mistress checked my identity and signature and assigned me ballot
> #286. That's the way this worked, kind of like Eyes Wide Shut. This kind
> of party, a willing male voter was matched up at random to a naked ballot
> wrapped in a privacy shield.
>
> You get to go into a booth after the previous couple has done the deed.
>
> A bead of sweat trickled down my brow. I could feel the frigid ballot
> quivering in the folds of its outer covering, ready to yield to me unseen,
> hoping I would be gentle and wise.
>
> As I entered the booth, I slowly lowered the privacy cover to reveal the
> porcelain white of its skin. I gently lowered it into the slot to prepare
> for the deep probing of its secrets...when suddenly it called to
> me...please, please, not this way, turn me over. I guess I too was filled
> with anticipation, so filled with the promise of a forthcoming rush of
> sensation, that I was about to enter from the rear in my hurry.
>
> We giggled a little bit as I fondled the derriere of the ballot which
> squealed as I slipped it into the slot. I firmly rubbed the red nipples at
> the top until they were firm and engaged the punch card just so. It gave
> such a sigh, and then heaved and undulated as I reached for my probe.
>
> Gently I slid apart the pages of the ballot, caressing the seams in the
> middle lovingly from bottom, to middle, to top. I took out my probe and
> playfully tickled the ballot's holes, first Republican, then Democratic,
> then undecided, and the ballot quivered with my every touch. "Pierce me!
> Pierce me now!" it squealed.
>
> I righted myself on the booth, grabbing the upper left hand of the table to
> steady myself, and as the ballot was now fully lubricated, inserted my probe
> for the first stroke. I first felt the ballot's resistance but our mutual
> juices slowly allowed my probe to enter, full shaft, into the ballot hole.
> We sighed together as one.
>
> But there were more candidates...more issues. I withdrew my probe slowly,
> but the vaccuum made a small pop and the ballot under me heaved. But as I
> was now in the throes of passion, I quickly selected another hole, and as my
> probe was slippery with our decision juices, was able to ram it in
> fast...full shaft.
>
> Again and again I withdrew my probe, plunged for this judge, that
> councilman, this tax, that issue. The musk of this exercise of our freedom
> filled the small booth with a heady perfume. When I reached the end of the
> ballot, I was completely overtaken by the moment.
>
> I withdrew from the last slot, and then placed my limp probe back in its
> sheath after filling the porcelain ballot with the seed of my choices. The
> ballot lay silent as I peeled its alabaster body, now full of holes, from
> the red nipples at the top and turned it over to check, lovingly, for chads.
> Finding none, I recovered the now sleeping ballot with the privacy envelope,
> and exited the booth.
>
> The voting matron winked an eye at me, for she could smell the musky funk we
> left behind in booth #3, precinct 3A. It was no secret to her what went on
> in that small compartment, which now was free.
>
> "Next..." said the matron.
>
> Recovering slightly from what I had just done, I asked her, "Now where my I
> go and smoke?"
>
> [*]
> -----
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