Duel #1: Speaker7 VS Ginger Snaap.
Ginger Snaap’s post: Tears of a Clown, Part One: Duel of Furry Fetishes
UPDATE: Winner of round one: Speaker7.
Q: Why did the chicken cross the road?
A: It was trying to get away from a furry.
I come to this blog duel with a bit of a disadvantage.
First, I had no idea what a furry fetish was until two days ago. Last, I still have no idea what a furry is. And B, I’ve been struck with a cold that makes my entire head feel like a gob of mucous.
Incidentally mucous is my fetish. That–and obsessing about Jessica Simpson’s baby weight. I might have had a weird obsession with Elmo, but that is over and we really don’t need to dread up any unpleasantness.
Okay. What am I looking at exactly? The cast party for Winnie-the-Pooh on Ice? Eeyore looks really fucked up. Wait a second, Eeyore is a kind of horse so maybe the hoof care is not far off.
I realized I was going to need to consult an expert. Not being able to find one, I retrieved Hugo from storage.
Thanks, Hugo! So how did furryism all began?
That doesn’t sound quite right, but please continue. That mustache makes you look like John Bolton.
Is it because when you’re inside one of those things, it’s hard to hear, see and breathe?
That sounds almost as good as the musical Cats, which sucks a big eeyore dick.
Wait. Wouldn’t the snake bite the cat or the bear eat the…is that a cow? Is that really being true to the animal kingdom, having different species intermingling?
Really, in order to write about furries, I had to become one. So I put this on:
And then held an impromptu party with other like-minded individuals.
And it was sort of okay until the appliance repairman came by earlier than expected and I answered the door wearing a fur glove and caressing a sheep. See, the repair guy was a crush fetishist. Talk about awkward.
Speaker7 would like to thank Carrie Rubin for coming up with such a popular blog topic and for exposing her to pictures and words that will never leave her brain. No amount of alcohol, bleach, or Go-Go Juice will erase them. If you liked this blog post, click “Like.” That’s how Team Le Clown wins. If you didn’t like this blog post, click “Like” because you do not want to see an angry clown. Tune in tomorrow for the amazingness that is Madame Weebles.