Great American Slampieces: Fawn Liebowitz
I’m kicking off a brand new TFM series, Great American Slampieces, with a true classic. I know you all will agree with my assessment, and if you don’t, you’re an uncultured societal bottom-feeder.
All of us hombres have seen our fair share of young ladies move swiftly in and out of our lives. Some beautiful, some heinous. Some slender, some portly. Some well-groomed, some unkempt. But all, by definition, were casual relationships. The American slampiece is the esteemed moniker bestowed upon a young lady with the willingness to partake in the physical act of mutual admiration, but in a non-committal manner — the no-strings-attached approach to fornication. To the common observer, this may seem like a slanderous, vilifying term. It’s not. At the very least it means you’ve got enough good shit going on about you to attract the attention of a young steed, and it typically refers to a highly desirable piece of ass, to be frank.
There are actually many slampieces, however, that should not receive the age-old catch-and-release application that has been a mainstay in many a young man’s repertoire since the dawn of time. The kind you may want to take home to meet mom, or strut arm-and-arm around your boys with. Then there are some like Fawn Liebowitz, a young college slampiece matriarch that was taken from us far too soon. But in 20 years of gracing this earth with her presence, she left quite the impression.
On Fawn’s tragic demise, from CNN iReport:
WOUNDED DEER, Massachusetts – Emily Dickinson College sophomore Fawn Liebowitz died suddenly last week in a kiln explosion on campus. Liebowitz, 20, a sociology major from Fort Wayne, Indiana, was tragically killed while firing a pot in the new kiln in Sylvia Plath Hall. “Messy” was how Wounded Deer Fire Chief Michael Redman described the scene of the accident. “It was hard to tell the pot shards from the body parts,” said the pyrodefense professional. “She just blew like a frog sucking on a cherry bomb,” Redman added.
Tragic. Just so fucking tragic. So that’s how she died, but who WAS Fawn Liebowitz?
Simply put, she was a kind soul, a selfless contributor to the world around her, a loving friend and family member, and a leader of young slampieces. Among her many shining accomplishments, her most noteworthy, by far, is the taming of the young, wild colt in Eric Stratton, known to most as “Otter.” A feat that, after countless collegiate women attempted in earnest, was deemed impossible. Making an honest man out of the stallion from nearby Faber College was at the forefront of hundreds of lists of the Faber and Emily Dickinson College MRS degree seekers. Otter was a man who had the world by its giblets. He worked the Faber student council like a seasoned lobbyist, knocked boots with the dean’s wife, and closed on rushees at an unprecedented batting average of .995. All attempts to woo the handsome Delta Rush Chair from Faber were futile. That was until Fawn engaged that patented Liebowitz sex trance and locked him down. They were engaged to be engaged, and then Stratton set out for her dormitory at Emily Dickinson College with a couple fraternity brothers, Donald “Boon” Schoenstein, and pledges Flounder and Pinto, to pick her up for a night out on the town. It was a beautiful, flourishing relationship, and only in its infancy.
Upon his arrival to the dorms, tragic news struck Otter like a dagger to the heart. His minx had passed. But the night, as solemn as it was, was not lost. The news of Leibowitz’s freak kiln explosion incident was delivered in the form of the young, ample-breasted ex-roommate of Fawn, Shelly Dubinsky. We’d later find out that Dubinsky was quite the giving soul herself, which should be no surprise to anyone. After all, Fawn did room with her. Shelly was down for a good time that evening, and Otter, amidst the worst night of his life, still wanted to party, because Otter parties.
As a final gesture to secure Fawn’s illustrious legacy, Stratton decided to take Shelly and a couple of her friends out on the town to see Otis Day and The Knights. It’s what Fawn would have wanted. Oh how Fawn loved Otis and the Knights. The night was moving along splendidly when Stratton became noticeably distraught while reminiscing over his lost lover. That’s when he slipped out of the club with Shelly and into the backseat of the car to talk about his feelings, and to bump uglies with a fiery passion. They did it for Fawn. Hard.
Fawn Liebowitz had legs that went on for days, a nice, firm backside that appeared to be etched from stone, flawless olive skin, and the face of an angel. But what Fawn was easily best known for: a set of high-and-tight twins that filled C-cups like OJ’s hand filled a leather glove. And she was a giver.
To Fawn Liebowitz, a Great American Slampiece.
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