I am not a slut
October 2, 2003

The rapid pace at which school students in Genoa City come and go to class is so astounding it's hard to keep track of when the school day begins and ends. College kids like Raul Guittierez find themselves so overwhelmed they say they aren't going to school at all then find themselves swamped with homework.

Yes, as any Genoa City University student knows all too well, the teachers at GCU dole out the homework by the boatload.

"I'm swamped with homework," Guittierez grumbled this week when Lauren Fenmore stopped by his digs to again personally check on how her employee's semester and personal life are going.

Because of the school workload, Guittierez told his boss he had taken time off from fondling feminine undergarments at the Fenmore Glowtique to "study" and hoped that she didn't mind that he had apparently done this without giving any notice.

Fenmore was not the least bit concerned as her little shop of horrors - which at one time had required not less than four employees - can now be run by one. Moreover, Fenmore's only concern was that the diabetic Guittierez may have been trying to avoid her after the deposit of spit they had savored earlier in the week.

"I just don't want you to think I come on to college boys," Fenmore hacked, adding "I'm not that type," as she twitched and giggled in horrific ecstasy because it was just the biggest and most contemptible damn lie this woman has ever told.

Then, as if to maybe show the world his newly-found albeit shriveled little boy balls in a bunch and to prove how macho penis-crazed and what sort of tight-lipped sycophantic whiny scumbag he is, Guittierez began smirking and blinking his beady little eyes at Fenmore. Would she like to reenact their earlier spit swapping technique to determine once and for all who kissed who?

Fenmore couldn't wait. She willingly slurped the saliva down her gullet and basically whored herself while panting softly through her nighttime goat's-head mask and wished that Guittierez would rush into her dank dungeon all cute and breathless and quivery for this is exactly why she's known as Lauren Slutmore.

Fenmore swaps spit with employee
by Brent Kellogg
September 19, 2003

In the early 1980's the Genoa City News assigned the nickname "slutmore" to Fenmore Department Store magnate Lauren Fenmore. The name was fitting because in those days Fenmore - AKA Bucky Beaver - was as close to being a slut as it gets. She had been married a number of times, had at least one child with Dr. Scott Grainger, and was unhappily locked in a monogamous relationship.

Fenmore's past bed partners have included the likes of slimy characters such as Brad Carlton and Paul Williams. Now, pushing fifty, Fenmore hasn't had sex with a man since returning to Genoa City two years ago. Lonely and sexless, Fenmore purchased the defunct Glow by Jabot line of cosmetics, opened a boutique to sell the toxic skunk oils and other landfill merchandise and hired what were previously known as "Glow Worms" to shamelessly pitch the wares.

Since then the glowtique has taken on the persona of a 50's gas station complete with an old-fashioned pump and Fenmore has begun living her second childhood through her teenaged employees to the point of becoming a regular Brady Bunch mama sans the moral ethic.

Fenmore's sick regression into the past party explains why she did what she did on Friday.

Returning to Genoa City from what she said was a buying trip her first stop was at the home of her employees who conveniently all live together. Without calling ahead - as former worm Raul Guittierez said earlier this week is the preferred requirement of visitors - Fenmore said she had only stopped by to "check in."

Offered wine, Fenmore thought it odd that a diabetic would be drinking but tossed her concern aside when Guittierez said it was okay for diabetics to drink alcohol. Besides, "I check myself all the time," he said, causing observers to wonder if checking doesn't mean he's constantly looking for a conscience.

After whimpering in front of Fenmore how his girlfriend - a girl he professes to love - is working as a stripper and refuses to stop on his command and failure to obey has caused him to realize that they come from different worlds, Fenmore quipped, "opposites attract."

Guittierez thought about that statement for a moment before reaching over to bring Fenmore's lips to his. Savoring his spit, Fenmore did not object. She fought back the moist feeling she hasn't felt in years and at that moment had to have understood why the mother of one of her other employees had seduced employee J.T. Hellstrom.

That seduction on April 30 was one Fenmore vehemently objected to and called "deplorable."

Yet here again the elite residents of Genoa City are engaged in do as I say not as I do behavior. They express shock and awe at disgusting conduct when it's exhibited by others. But when they engage in exactly the same kind of behavior it's perfectly okay.

January 30, 2003

Dead Glow Worms resurrected!
Oh lord, say it ain't so. Say that a pack of zit-covered college bound teenagers won't be hired on to reprise their roles as oily Glow Worms at the once defunct, but recently resurrected from the corporate grave, Glow by Jabot boutique.

Like some sort of sweet sentimental lifestyle product that really cares about them and their development as humans and as sucker consumers of swill, department store magnate Lauren Fenmore announced Thursday that indeed, a pact has been made with the Devil to give teens Raul Guittierez, Brittany Hodges, Mac Browning and the pushing thirty but doing his best to look like a 19-year-old Dick Clark, Billy Abbott, another crack at pushing chemicals.

Fenmore's fondest wish is that the Worms will successfully brainwash a new generation of kids while stamping into their tiny nubile beating little hearts the well-branded belief that smearing animal-tested grease on human skin is good for the soul and her bottom line.

In addition to the Glow line, Fenmore says the Glotique will sell her personal line of clothing meant just for teens and encouraged young and old customers alike to drop on by the store to maybe catch Hodges or Browning sporting that god-awful glittery faux-goth trailer-park hotpants ensemble she personally designed one night while hooked up to a solar-powered vibrator.

"Um, this be berry berry good for me. Real jobs for real money," one disbelieving teen remarked eager to start work immediately but at the same time wondering if the job required pulling a skimpy swimsuit out of his butt crack every five minutes.

Somehow sensing that Jabot's garish Glowtique had fallen on hard times due to the catastrophic economic consequences of oh so oily Shrub's war mongering, department store diva Lauren Fenmore visited befuddled cosmetics tycoon Yawn Abbott at his abode rather than the office to propose she purchase the place from him!

Attempting to save face and reluctant to admit the establishment that never has more than 3 pizza faced teens loitering around inside at any given time was a dismal failure, Abbott claimed the non-existent sales were due to the Glow geeks being back in school.

Because his target consumers were mysteriously unable or unwilling to purchase makeup in the winter unless there was a cyber-celeb in the store to stare at, Yawn explained he vastly reduced the marketing budget.

Well, it just so happened Fenmore had a new line of skimpy slut wear designed especially for teeny boppers longing to emulate wholesome Lolitas like Christina Aguliera and Britney Spears.

Since Fenmore's is apparently incapable of selling the stuff, would Yawn consider hawking the clothes in the Glowtique?

Does Abbott houseguest Pain Me Johnson make a mean flapjack? Of course, he'll carry the crap!

With business settled, Fenmore stuck her pointy nose in Abbott family matters.

Decrepit, doddering Yawn was all too willing to flap his gums because hell, who else does the senile sap have to gab with?

Did the redhead yenta know his granddaughter was in love with a collegiate, peroxide porcupine the family doesn't approve of, that the rebellious runt ran away because of him, and she threatened to do so again?

Well, wait 'til you hear how my unpleasantly plump, hysterical daughter deposited Colleen in a juvenile detention center and charged J.T. Hellstrom with statutory rape when there was no proof he ever laid a hand on her!

By the way, did you know I wear Depends that will need to be changed in a minute because I'm having a massive bowel movement as we speak?

All right, the old walrus didn't divulge everything, but he might as well have. Isn't this the first semi-meaningful conversation Yawn and Fenmore have ever had?

No matter. Like the absorbent, but lifeless, soulless sponge she is, Lauren soaked up every drop of orgasmic inducing gossip before hot footing it over to the Java Hut to put the squeaky voiced snot who her senile grandfather still believes is holed up upstairs listening to Eminem CD's on notice.

Fenmore won't run her fat mouth to the ancient Abbott artifact she barely knows about Colleen consorting secretly with Hellstrom, but the brat had better consider this dire warning to run her skinny ass to gramp's place or else her get out of gulag free card!

Once young "Juliet" had scurried away like a frightened rabbit running from Ted Nugent's hunting rifle, Lauren planted her posterior in a chair in front of "Romeo" under the pretext of ignorantly inquiring what's going on with the teen couple while she wet her girdle wondering what the young hunk who dumped steaming coffee onto her sagging hooters looks like naked.