In 2004 I found a mint edition yank mag in a bush in Scotland. End of an era.
Pornography was far more wholesome when it was found in bushes, not iPhones. Nothing bested that moment of elation as a 13 year old finding a pristine stash of jazz mags hidden behind a shrub. It brought a hunter-gatherer ethos to teen masturbation that is lost on today’s youth.
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You had those too? Who kept putting them under trees?
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Magical porn gnomes
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A stack of assorted titles found alongside the railroad tracks. Good times.
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