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Still no reply. "Is anyone masturbating right now?" I wondered aloud. This remark brianna did bring me attention. The comment earned the first reference to me by name (or rather by my mother's chosen login name, Lynnmarg). I felt an brianna infantile joy. Suddenly, I was receiving the attention I craved. It may have been negative, but, hey, they were talking to me. They were saying I was vulgar. Veiled threats were made about being kicked off the Net. Someone mentioned brianna an obscure bylaw prohibiting such verbal misdeeds as those I'd just committed. Mention was made of a personage known as a Guide - kind of electronic den mother providing a modicum of authority and technological direction. But I quickly discovered that prudery was not universal. I attempted to enter a cyber-room called The Flirt's Nook. The room, however, was already at its maximum with 23 Don Juans and Mata Haris inside. I took up the computer's offer to send me to another room like the first. Here I was assailed by rabidly horny, faceless American males.
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