<div class="floatleft">(http://i63.tinypic.com/2ngbqs6.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Amanda</span></strong> <br/><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Dianne Devotee</span></strong> </div></div><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i65.tinypic.com/30xhdmr.jpg)</div><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i63.tinypic.com/5cnn8y.jpg) </div><br/><em>Amanda:</em>We’re on to piercings and surveying more of the store.  I smile seductively at Vajayjay, urging some smiles from the clerk, shaking my head, “Feed the Jay-jay.  Yes, we’ll buy them.  Any others?  Put those on though."<br/><br/><em>Clerk:</em>But . . .<br/><br/><em>Amanda:</em>“You have rubbing alcohol or peroxide.  Jay-jay, go back, find somewhere you can take your top off and switch to these piercings.  I’ll pay with my card and you sizzle back out here as soon as you can.”<br/><br/><em>Clerk:</em>“Oh.  We can do<strong>that</strong>.”<br/><br/><em>Amanda:</em>Being a buyer with a crazy girlfriend, I look around to see what else she might go for.  Eric’s pleased: is it all the boobs, nipples, rings and an onslaught of more sales?<br/>