Used to be an old abandoned recycling place in the early 70s up off Winter Street Extension, just a bit before Thrasher Road (Might explain why I'm a Metalhead) where there were stacks of newspapers from previous decade. It's as if they never recycled it. I had an interesting time saving newspapers to read about the Vietnam War where my dad had been, Watergate, and all kinds of other historical stuff... I was interested to see if I ever found mention of places my dad had been over there.
Also inside that rusting collapsing tin "building" were stacks upon stacks of various girlie mags - the standard Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, Jugs, Chic, and on and on and on. The age of bush. Lots and lots of warm, cold-weather, snuggly bush.
Not a single one didn't make it back to my treehouse. Not only did I hide them under the bed, they were the bed. A camping matteress laid upon a huge flat stack of hundreds upon hundreds of skin mags.
I was a weird kid.