<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Essay on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/essay/</link><description>Recent content in Essay on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Fri, 02 Jan 2009 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/essay/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Ins and Outs of Dumpster Diving</title><link>/stories/2009/01/02/the-ins-and-outs-of-dumpster-diving/</link><pubDate>Fri, 02 Jan 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/01/02/the-ins-and-outs-of-dumpster-diving/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;There is nothing quite like hopping into a full dumpster, playing around in the rubbish and burying yourself under the bags.  That is the ultimate way of satisfying a trash or garbage fetish.  But how to go about it if you&amp;rsquo;ve never done it before?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Many trash bag/trash can fetishists start out with trash bag play, fantacize that they&amp;rsquo;re trash or garbage, and may even put some rubbish into their bag with them.  I wore trash bags from a young age and I would—and still do—stuff them full of newspaper and other trash.  And this is a great and enriching experience for any trash fetishist.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Of My Trash Fetish</title><link>/stories/2008/12/17/of-my-trash-fetish/</link><pubDate>Wed, 17 Dec 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/12/17/of-my-trash-fetish/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Of my trash fetish: Sexual deviancy or latent normality?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;One autumn night after my bedtime in 1982, at the age of 13, I started rolling up wads of tissues and throwing them around my room.  I went through an entire box of Kleenex and after I was finished, my bedroom floor was a sea of wadded-up tissues. My room had just been &amp;ldquo;trashed.&amp;rdquo;  And I got off on it.  It was one of the most orgasmic experiences of my entire puberty.  I must have made more noise than I realized, however, because my mother came into my room, turned on the light, looked around with amazement and asked, &amp;ldquo;WHAT are you DOING?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>