Darlings, imagine my elation when I stumbled upon a page called:  NakedFurs
My oh my, what have we here? I said. Yes. I actually said that.
I was like the fat kid let loose in the candy store.
Just what hidden... or exposed gems will I find here.
Must be pretty exclusive if I don't know about it by now...
I was drooling at the prospect of all the pretty, naked furries waiting for my... perusal.
But as I scrolled down the page, I found... nothing.
That page is nekkid, alright. There's not even so much as a fig leaf!
Hmmph!
It was more barren than Khloe Kardashian's uterus.
No pictures.
No links.
No references.
Nothing.
Except a handful of watchers who once had high hopes.
High hopes.
Yes they had high hopes.
But I guess an ant can't move that rubber tree plant.
There were also a handful of comments.
Guess who gave the first comment?
It was "This certainly gets my attention :p" by  chrismukkah
I would say chrismukkah's attention is spread very thin these days.
But none of that attention is taken up by "NakedFurs".

The page has been up for a year and a half.
It has me wondering about how many pages started up on FurAffinity with such promise...
only to crash and burn and never see the light of day again... kind of like that airplane...
no, the other one.

So, youngsters, any sites you had high hopes for that never materialized?
Or sites that all of you are watching that were just so awesome... until the artists left you high and dry?
(Cough,  Blotch , cough).
They have been gone for like, a year and people are still leaving comments asking for commissions.
Sad.
Now I don't actually expect anyone to read or comment on this, but what the hell...
Let's keep hope alive.
Love, D-

"This is unbearable! I will not wait on this lowbred son of a bitch a minute longer." -Red Lantern page 42 (If you are confused, read my journal "Roo: Raging and Unsatisfied".)
Yes, Roo. You got our message... and we got yours. Giggle.

Finally, we are past the long, bitter winter of our discontent. Admittedly, it is still snowing out even as I write this, but spring is in the air, which is why it is so timely that our Queen 👑 is rousing out of hibernation with the next installment of "Red Lantern". It's just like seeing the first crocus bloom in an otherwise snow covered garden.
Right?

So, darlings... the long dark wait is finally over. Our Queen knows just what we need, and just in the knick of time. It's almost as if [censored] is reading our minds. Or perhaps the many comments left on her user page.
You know.... the comments like: "Are you still doing Red Lantern?" Or perhaps: "Where can I buy Red Lantern?" Hint, hint, 👑.

As we all know, our poor long suffering Queen has been ailing as of late. It was inevitable. There is only so much of her to go around, and the demands of the monarchy are so taxing. The opiate of the people, "Red Lantern", would just have to wait.

At first, I thought it was a strategy- you know- leave them wanting more. Dump "Red Lantern" on the back burner and use the time to do some shows. Give the adoring masses time to miss it, to grow hungry, desperate, painfully aware of their dependence on their drug of choice. Even I- yes, I was not immune darlings, having ponied up my money in the back alley that is FurAffinity only to be spurned by the Queen in favor of... more lucrative business.
But she couldn't delay the next meager installment of "Red Lantern" indefinitely. Furries are so fickle. Their attention mustn't be allowed to wander too far. They must be pacified before they come out of withdrawal.
Oh, that reminds me... It's story time!

Star Trek- The Next Generation. One planet suffered from an ongoing plague, another planet supplied life-giving "medicine" to keep them from dying. I know you have seen it. The people of the first planet didn't realize the plague had long since ended; they were just addicted to the drug. They ran out of funds to pay for their "medicine". All attempts to appeal to the conscience of their suppliers failed... Until...

This is when Captain Picard said: "There it is. They know". Those of the second planet knew the truth and were content to let their clients suffer in ignorance. But if those from the first planet survived their withdrawal symptoms and got better... well, that would be the end of the suppliers' lucrative business. They couldn't let that happen, so they gave in... stringing their clients along with another fix.

My question: Would the people of the first planet even care if they knew the truth. That they were merely addicted? I doubt it. And I bet there was no Betty Ford center to go to. Judging by Liza Minnelli, it probably wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway. The drug doesn't even make us feel good anymore. We keep taking it just so we don't have to feel bad. But the effect quickly wears off and we go into withdrawal. The cycle begins again.
And that's not all.

Like any other illicit drug, "Red Lantern" has some... unsavory side effects. If you don't believe me, just read... any of my journals. Just say "no", children... for all the good it will do.

Love, -D.

IMVU, Content & You
Sounds kinda like the title of a book from my school health and sexual education class. I can’t honestly say I read every lesson- but the chapter on pills served as my Bible for a time. I did, however, look at all the pretty pictures and diagrams. It was one of the rare classes that I always looked forward to: The hairs on the back of my neck still tingle every time I recall the teacher mentioning words like abstinence, condoms, erections, and the dreaded herpes. (There was no AIDS back then. It was a kinder, gentler time.) Giggle, giggle.

But I still can’t recall any dialogue regarding… dildos.

Yes darlings, the above sentence is something called “the bridge”. A device that carries me back to the subject at hand, namely: Fender’s journal “IVMU, Content, & You”.

The first comment on said journal, “dildos” summed up F.A. community concerns nicely.
Or at least that’s the impression I got since so many of you seemed more interested in responding to  F_Mr's “dildos” comment rather than discussing the content of the journal. I can’t blame you, really. Dildos are more fun. Giggle. In fairness, “dildos” does touch on a touchy and important subject. I can’t tell you what that subject is because… I didn’t read up on the subject. My dog ate my homework, you might say. So I am bluffing my way through this journal. Pretty much how I got through school. I did look at the nice pictures, though. Therefore I cannot tell you what IMVU, TOS or DMCA stands for. I barely know what AUP or UGC is. I know I could look it up, but I’m not that invested. Just don’t give me a written exam- (but I’ve always gotten high marks on the oral).

This all seems to center around products that are for sale within the IMVU catalog. Which, I imagine, includes dildos. Giggles… or maybe…sciggles? Yes, Dragoneer? Now that IMVU… for better lack of a word… owns FurAffinity, furries are worried that their art, their craft will be used or sold without their permission. That is, the furries with something worth selling are worried. I don’t fall into that category- judging by your apathy- so I’m not worried. I also expect to be banned any day now- so I’m still not worried. I’m actually shocked by how many of my watchers are suspended. It’s like a plague- like a furry version of AIDS- no doubt a scourge from God for your bad behavior. Or more likely, a manmade scourge from the administration in order to cleanse unwanted elements from FurAffinity in preparation for the sale. Yes, I read your comments. Those conspiracy rumors that were swirling back in October 2014 are rearing their ugly heads again. Taking on a new life, and a new twist to fit the parameters of our new master.

So… now that we have a new master, how do we feel about that?

I’ll tell you a story. When I was a child, I opened my first bank account. Eleven dollars. It was a small fortune for me. It was precious to me. It was all the money I had. I loved my account. Yes. Loved it and cherished it. My F.A… I mean bank… yes, my… bank account was cared for like the one budding rose blossom in a garden otherwise filled with contemptible weeds. I was embraced, I was treated like an actual person- after all, how else would I expect to be treated… by the bank? Then one day… in an unmitigated act of vore, my bank was swallowed up alive and whole. No notice, no nothing. I didn’t care much for the new bank, but where to go? Then that bank was swallowed by another bank. In turn, that bank was swallowed by another. Do you remember that god-awful Sylvester Stallone movie? No, the other one. No, not that one either. The one where Sandra Bullock exclaims: “All restaurants are now Taco Bell.” Yes that one. You don’t remember? Lucky you. The point was, after a while, there was nowhere else to go. And each time I was swallowed up, I was treated a little less like a person.

I have little love for my current bank. They have nothing but contempt for me. They actually imagine they are doing me a favor by keeping my money. If I only had eleven dollars in the account, they would be charging me with an exorbitant monthly fee just to keep the account. Now you need a combined average balance of at least 10,000 dollars to avoid the fee. Guess what, darlings? I don’t pay the fee. Guess how much interest I made on that money last year? Thanks to Bernie Madoff, the answer is: zero, zip, nada, nothing. They didn’t even bother to send me a statement for my taxes. No interest is shown on my account. The same could be said of my FurAffinity account as well, by the way. Giggle.

And yes, some of that money was contributed to FurAffinity.

So… for what it’s worth, I think this is probably a good thing. Fender’s March 19, 2015 journal states: “FA started with a dream and a roll of duct tape”. We’ve come a long way. But I bet that roll of duct tape comes in handy. I’m sure that it is a struggle to keep the site running. I believe the administration has done the best they could do. And I believe Dragoneer has been looking for some way to move FurAffinity to the next level as well as pay off debts. But, much like the soulless troll megabank that has gotten far too big and gluttonous, I’m sure FurAffinity’s administration would be just fine if I took my business somewhere else.

I will leave you with some food for thought regarding Fender’s comment: “FA started with a dream and a roll of duct tape”. As I recall, the same could be said for mass murderer Jeffrey Dahmer. Here's to being swallowed whole. Just sayin’ is all. Giggle.
Love, D-

03/10/2015

I've just received word that  Rio2 has been forced to leave F.A.
This is the journal- no doubt written through many tears of lamentation- that said furry wrote:

"My Parent's caught me (BUSTED)

As you're wondering why I was forced to leave FA, It's because my parent's caught me on FA, I shouldn't left my Screen open when I wasn't on the computer (how shame of me) I always hide my FA browser before my parent's comes on my computer when I'm not using it...But now it was a mistake >.<

but anywho, do you have ANY websites I could add you on?

Well....Back to my DA business

Sorry for the inconvenience !"

That's what happens when you leave tabs of rough sex on your device for others to find. I don't see an age listed on Rio2's page, but... let's just say you youngsters might want to stay in the "general audience" category where you belong.

Since said furry claims to be gone, I feel free to make these observations:
I couldn't help noticing that despite being outed and, I suppose, shut down by the parents, Rio2 still had plenty of time to scrap the artwork, write the journal, and answer the fifty or sixty comments of condolence and farewell that you left.
Good Lord. Her Royal Highness Princess Diana didn't have so weepy a send off. Sheesh.
Keep in mind that only 18 days earlier,  Railskunk327, who I have just recently learned is also the same person as Rio2, made a big stink about being locked out of the Railskunk account because of forgetting the password and email address. As I recall, the floodgates of help and sympathy poured out on Rio2's site, but to no avail. Poor Railskunk/Rio could not be comforted. The towel had been thrown in. That was that. Then, 9 days later, after the mayhem had passed and people were finally getting on with their lives, Railskunk posts an ominous journal: "I'm back".
Yay!!
Then, pretty much in the same breath says: "I don't feel like continuing using this account."
Yay?
So, that was that. No more Railskunk327.
Now, only days later, no more Rio2.
WTF?
I'm left wondering if this person has anymore user pages out there so they can leave us in the dust again.
The problem with people leaving multiple times is... you ever hear of the boy who cried wolf?
Other examples:
I vividly remember Cher's farewell tour. Got a T-shirt and everything.
I also vividly remember her second farewell tour... and her third... and her fourth. I think she's finally on death's door, so... whatever.
I vividly remember when Jay-Z announced his retirement to the world- and six months later he put out another album and sang: "I'm back... hey, what can I say?" Apparently he learned the hard way that when you retire, the money stops coming in. Let's face it darlings, I ain't sayin' she's a gold digger- but Beyoncé ain't messin' with no broke [cencored]!
Hey, Lindsay Lohan has been busted how many times? But she keeps rearing her head up just to remind us that for every fifteen minutes of fame, there's sixteen minutes of shame.
How many times did Jay Leno retire from the "Tonight Show"?
Closer to home: How many people said they were leaving FurAffinity for Weasyl- never to return? Until they realized there was no traffic on Weasyl.
I'll say one thing for Wufflecomic- he said he was going, and he stayed the fuck gone. I respect that. Nothing else. Just that. Wish he would come back. Sometimes.
I'm just saying to all you youngsters out there... don't toy with us. If you're going, give us a chance to miss you. Or not miss you.

Love, D-

Update: The person in question immediately set up another account named:  furriesareepic

(This furry's original userpage on FurAffinity was called:  SouthernOntario )

Now currently has the user page:  Raymound

Also owned  Ratatouille and  Shrek and  ferndale

All aboard!!

👑, you go gurl! I am impressed! You didn’t give up. No. You went down to the airport and found your bags. On behalf of all of us who have been man-handled by the merciless and unforgiving travel system, I applaud you. I know you are battle scarred and weary from dealing with those blood suckers, but now you can rest, confident in your triumph.
You look fabulous and fierce. Just ignore the haters. You are giving it, and you are so awesome that we can’t even handle it. Love your selfie, and the new hair length is so soft and flattering. Thank you for giving us a peek, darling. And your store envy opening… an unexpected treat. You just keep on going. How do you do it?

There. I have been on my best behavior. I have been polite, courteous, receptive to courtesy… and even sincere.

Um… so if 👑 or any of her fan base are reading this… You have reached your destination. It is time to roll to a stop, unfasten your seat belts, disembark and head to the baggage carousel.

In other words, stop reading. You don’t have a ticket to ride.

Now… for the rest of you- which I imagine to be one or two passengers… stay on board as we head to points further south.
Ok, she’s gone. Let’s get into it.

So 👑 has a lot of baggage. And whether you watch me- or her- you likely know that already. Her travels- or should I say travails, trials and tribulations just keep on coming, don’t they? Not that her baggage is heavier than anyone else’s- it just feels that way, doesn’t it? Let’s face it, even Jerry Springer would blush if 👑 opened up her baggage on his show. “I draw furry porn” I believe it would say. (If you haven’t seen the show, I congratulate you for having a life.) I can only wonder what the baggage handlers think when they rifle through her belongings. But I empathize with 👑. I have been through the airport mill. Like you, I have more than my fair share of horror stories. I’ve been ogled, my possessions have been fondled, and I’ve even had artwork destroyed. The one highlight is getting the occasional groping. And nobody even bothered to do that on my last trip. I guess I don’t look suspicious enough in my old age. It’s become my goal in life to never step into another airport. We shall see. So back to 👑 and her bags. As we learned of her plight, you gave her many tips on what to do and how to avoid this problem in the future. Some of you even suggested she pack a firearm in her bag next time. It left me with visions of ATF agents (alcohol, tobacco, and furry porn) swooping in to her Greenville compound. In the end she picked the wisest and most logical course, which was to go back to the airport and visually inspect any unclaimed luggage. Of course, there it was for anyone to see. And I’m sure the attendant berated poor, long suffering 👑 for not thinking of coming in sooner to claim her bags. God forbid anyone at the airline take responsibility and call her up. I wish I had been clever enough to suggest 👑 go down there and look for her bags, but I wasn’t. I could have been a hero. But I’m not.

So 👑 found her bags. And, understandably, she wanted us to share in her…joy. After all, we were there for her. We did nothing to help, but we were there for her. So upon notifying us that her bags were recovered she decided to reward us with a selfie. Personally, darlings, if there was any joy to be found- I didn’t see it. Clearly 👑 was conveying a different message: that she was tired. Yes, our long-suffering heroine was tired. Tired from travel, tired from dealing with airport snafus, and- I suspect, tired of YOU and your s%#t! That’s just my opinion. But the picture speaks volumes. Let’s discuss:

Where O where to begin? Let’s see. Let’s go back to her bags. How kind of her to show off her bags in the selfie for all to see. No, I don’t mean the bags she singlehandedly recovered from the airport. Certainly not. I mean the ones under her eyes. Yes, those bags. Before you get into a hissy fit and start lecturing me about her kidney issues, let me remind you that I graciously refrained from making any comment on her submission regarding her appearance- unlike many of you. Of the many, many comments, (and I read each and every one) the one I thought was most fitting- and also the most offensive- was  zakavatarz all-encompassing “Gurl, you need a touch up.” I suppose this simple yet most relevant of statements could be interpreted in several ways. Confronted by 👑 and her entourage, the statement maker backed off, in a sort of “This is what Vice President Biden really meant to say” moment and said: “What I actually mean is that you should get some sleep”. Although 👑 had scores of defenders telling her how radiant her “natural” beauty was, how sexy she was, there were also more… constructive comments. Suggesting she might want to reach for a bottle of hair dye. Or a tube of concealer. Personally… I thought she should have reached for Photoshop. What? 👑 of all people knows how to digitally manipulate an image. I mean- in the age of the perfected selfie, has she learned nothing from the Kardashians? Even Khloé is putting out fabulous selfies these days. Yes, Khloé. I’m so proud of my Koko. She’s finally becoming a woman. She’s got her hair resolved… after all these years. The new trout pout is a bit much but at least she’s moving in the right direction. There’s no excuse anymore. I’m no prize myself, but when I have to do a pr picture, you better believe it’s airbrushed to within an inch of its life. Should you expect any less of Queen 👑?

Perhaps there’s a method to Roo's raw appearance. When George W. Bush rolled into New Orleans three months after hurricane Katrina, some aide told him to remove his tie and jacket and roll up his sleeves- and to look like he cared. Perhaps the Queen is sending a similar message: Look! Look how she has suffered for you, you of little faith. Behold the lengths that she has gone to in order to satisfy you. Traveling to the ends of the earth, slaying mighty airline dragons, working late into the night to provide you with bread and circus. I am reminded of another queen. Marie Antoinette. She posted the occasional selfie too. Of course hers were done in oil paint. She used her selfies to remind the impoverished masses that, yes, she had suffered, too. In one poignant “selfie” she is posing with an empty crib- a reminder that her child had died. I suppose she really had suffered- but she didn’t need bags under her eyes to convey that fact. She still looked like a Queen. Now that I think about it… maybe that did not work to her advantage. It certainly didn’t pacify the masses. Perhaps 👑 is on to something.

Looks like we have reached the end of the line.
Love, D-

[review]
Darlings, the last time I reviewed anything on here, I was still watching [censored].
Damn. Couldn't even get through two sentences without mentioning [censored].
Damn. Did it again. But I am determined to get out of this feedback loop and give you some positivity.
So here goes:

Ever been pulled over by a cop for speeding and wished you could get out of a ticket?
Then this story is for you. Working Bears part 1- A Cop's New Career- by  Cyberklaw, http://www.furaffinity.net/view/15868551/ starts out innocently enough as Officer Delaney, a handsome black bear, is on the beat pulling over a speeding driver. Little does Delaney realize that this violation will turn out to be anything but routine.

Since this is a contribution for Hypno Bear Week sponsored by Talisment, We expect upfront that there will be pretty bears and hypnosis in the story. And we are not disappointed. The action begins immediately as Delaney encounters "Doctor" Thurman, the pulled-over driver who has an interesting method for getting out of tickets. At least when it comes to well- built male officers, I imagine. If you can make it through the first couple of paragraphs, the story moves along at a good pace. It says on point and is told efficiently. The occasional grammatical error did not distract as I hungrily went through. Much like Officer Delaney, I was hooked fairly quickly.

There are four digital drawings that represent pivotal points in the story. They are lovely and fitting. However, when I clicked on to what I consider the key piece, I wasn't prepared for what I saw. The rendering of Delaney sporting a bright pink phallus seemed a bit gratuitous, especially for the very first picture. But, like I said, the story moves quickly and I'm sure FurAffinity audiences will appreciate knowing where the story is headed right off the bat... so to speak. Of all the outlandish things in the story, this drawing strained credulity for me the most. Once I got past the shock factor, all I could think was: "What deserted country road did this happen on? Did no one pass by the whole time?" Despite that premature build-up, I was left wondering what comes next.

The story rebuilds intensity, leaving me more horrified with each passing sentence. And also more aroused. I don't like what that says about me. But I had to keep reading. Have you ever seen the story about the ant that was infected by a parasite and it lost control of it's will? The parasite would force it to go up a stalk of grass where it would happily wait to be eaten by a cow. If the ant passed the day without being eaten, the parasite allowed the ant to go back to its nest and live its life... until another day. That's pretty much how I felt reading this. I desperately wanted to help Delaney, to stop him, but I couldn't. I felt like a helpless observer. But the story also fed my fantasies, making me wonder just what would become of Delaney. Would anything good come out of this for him. I doubt it. I thought about real-life schemers like Doctor Thurman who take advantage of the masses out of cold, calculated greed- making themselves out to be some god while deluding others that they should be grateful to bow down and worship at their feet.

I am glad I stumbled upon it. I found part one to be a fascinating and thought provoking read. Keep your tissues handy as well. And I don't mean for your tears, darlings. I fully expect part two will be just as interesting.

Love, D-

[On narrowly losing the bloody bidding war for 👑's V-day pinup]

So, darlings…
My big fat mouth almost wrote a check that my ass had to cash.

And I was put on notice by 👑 that I had better put my money where my mouth is, lest her parasites, hangers on, and self-appointed bodyguards cause trouble. It occurred to me that perhaps my bidding budget would be better spent on protection from the Queen’s goon squad.
Oh, that reminds me… speaking of protection, I am reminded of a scene from “The Bodyguard”- You know, the Kevin Costner/Whitney Houston film. It had mixed reviews, but I have to say I liked it-especially the scenes when they were at the isolated cabin in the snowy wood. In one memorable scene, the bodyguard asks Rachel Marron’s sister: “Is it all paid for?” She remains silent, nervously nursing her drink. He wrests the bottle away from her and asks again, more forcefully. “Is it all paid for?” She desperately replies: “And then some!... Ok?... Till it’s done.” How she didn’t get an Oscar, I don’t know.
Shortly thereafter, a bloodbath ensues.
Yes, the hired gun made a killing. Bang-bang!

Which I suppose in a roundabout way brings us back to our favorite hired gun, 👑, who clearly made a killing of her own yesterday.

The victim? Stormwolff’s bank account. Which I assume is now short $975.00. Ouch!
Poor  Stormwolff. I can just imagine those disappearing funds, the last gasp of breath as the life slowly drained out of that once robust account. Now it’s on life support, clinging by a thread. Apparently it was found lying face-down in a bathtub. Attempts to resuscitate the victim came too late. It is currently in a state of induced coma. Personally, I suspect foul play. After all, there were symptoms of severe… withdrawal. Family and friends are gathered together, waiting for the inevitable closing of the account. There’s nothing to do now but pull the plug. Our prayers are with you, Stormwolff.

You know what they say, darlings: What comes around goes around. Kind of like a repeating cycle. If only there were some sort of repeating cycle that’s been in the news recently that I could draw upon as an example… Hmmm, let’s see now… Can’t think of anything at the moment. How about you? Any ideas? No? Hoo-boy, guess I'll have to throw out that baby with the bath water...

Oh, wait. I know.

I’ll give you a repeating cycle of my own. This all started a year before, in the run-up to last year’s 👑 Valentine’s Day love-fest/massacre. I was also a bidder… I mean, contributor in that process. It was quite different last year. You sent money to 👑's Paypal account. Each dollar represented a vote for one of her characters. I won’t say who I voted for, but I’m fairly certain I was the only person who voted for that character. The voting dragged on for days and days. Only 👑 knew who voted and how much and for who. But we… trusted her anyway. Toward the end of the bidding process I got an email from 👑 with a question about the character I bid on. The tone of the email suggested a certain resignation. She wasn’t interested in drawing the character-her character-because it was not one of the more popular characters that she assumed would win. She did not say any of that in her email. She didn’t have to. I already knew that before she emailed me. I was left with the impression that I actually might have contributed enough money to win. She made me think I could do it! But it was not to be. I underestimated the resolve of other furries to vote at the last minute and make a final push for their character. I suppose it was naïve of me to think that I had contributed enough to win. I wonder, in retrospect, how many of them 👑 might have emailed. I’m not suggesting foul play or anything… no… of course not… No. I’m only suggesting that my voting decisions- and yours- may have been influenced by…eh... Let’s just move on, shall we?

So, apparently the characters that 👑 was rooting for- the money makers- were the winners. Surprise. She had some long rambling speech about the virtues of the winners and how she just knew they would pull through and that you- the adoring masses- were so smart to vote for them. Remember that? I do. That didn’t, however, assuage the many who didn’t get the win for their favorite character. I read comment after comment about some tragic furry who did not get the outcome they desired even though they voted heavily. I can only imagine the emails 👑 got that we don’t know anything about. Clearly those comments influenced the changes in the bidding process this Valentine’s Day. She referenced those comments when she said that this time around, to reduce the number of those who did not get nearly what they voted for, only one person would have to pay up. Her exact words:
“In previous years I've let people vote on which character they'd like it to be of, usually by donating a few bucks. Well, last year, the voting got extremely crazy, and I think a few people were upset their donations were so outmatched by people with bigger pocket books. In the end, everyone still gets the art, but I'd rather not have folks donating towards a character they like and not getting at all what they want out of their donation when their character doesn't win. It made for some unpleasantness last year.
This year, out of a desire to keep the peace, I'm just going to do my V-Day pinup as a simple auction. Winner gets to choose the character, and YES, that can include YOUR character.”

Simple, open… transparent.

This may surprise you, but I was not one of the disgruntled legions from last year. Despite losing out, I was actually pacified by 👑's soothing words and her many promises. As the year passed, I had even forgotten all about it.
That is, until she announced the next V-day bid. Then the horror of it all came flooding back to me. Her words about all those upset people from last Valentine’s Day who didn’t get what they wanted. Wait a minute- I was one of those people- putting money into Roo's pockets with nothing to show for it. Now I was feeling disgruntled, too. Ain’t that a bitch?
I thought about bidding this time around. Should I? Do I want to put myself through that hell? But my antici-pation was growing with each passing day. I couldn’t wait for bidding to open. Despite 👑's many, many words, she did not give as many details as I would like. I left a comment asking her how payment for this will be arranged. She misinterpreted this as me asking whether I can pay in installments. I’m guessing others had asked that and she assumed I was asking that, too. I just wanted to know if she was still using Paypal. I remember the fuss she went through with that. One of her many trials and tribulations- and there are so many- aren’t there?
The dirt:
I'm embarrassed by my stupidity. When the day came, I couldn’t find where the auction was being held. There was nothing on her user page. Finally around 3:00 pm I went to 👑's twitter account and realized that it was being held on an adult submission. I had to change my account to get access. (I don’t generally view adult material). By the time I got on, most of the action had ended long before. Like in the first hour. Last year, there were lots of people making lots of bids over days. At least everyone had a chance to participate. Not this time. People who wanted to make a bid and be part of the process were shut out quickly. There was a new crop of disgruntled furries for 👑 to deal with.

The bidding was at $600.00. The bidder,  Murashu, was fairly confident of winning, having sent 👑 information on the character days before. That’s some chutzpah. 👑 replied back on the future bidder’s user page: “Cool! Best of luck :)”. (Yes, darlings, I did my homework). It seems I already missed what little action there was. A bunch of comments were already deleted- I missed out on those, too. So now what? Do I bid or not? $600.00 was already more than I wanted to bid. And more than I think 👑's 20 hours of work is worth. But I told myself that the opportunity might not come for me again. "Just do it honey, just do it! Let's spice up 👑's sad, sorry auction." So I did it. $650.00. It was out there for all 2,000 or so of you to see. And within minutes it was quickly trounced by Stormwolff. $800.00 freakin’ dollars? Really? Someone was trying to shut me down. At least I was part of the process. Wasn’t that enough? I don’t want to bid more, do I? Yes. Yes I do. I was not thinking rationally. However, bidding on 👑's vanilla porn isn’t an act bourn of reason. I was still thinking of last year’s auction. “If only I had bid another hundred, maybe I would have won.” I upped my bid to $900.00. I figured it wouldn’t be long before my bid was trumped again. It sat there for seven long hours. I may have called someone’s bluff. I don’t think anyone expected the bidding to go that high. I most certainly did not- and I was the high bidder!

Apparently that got someone’s attention. An hour after my $900.00 bid, I got a comment on my user page from 👑 herself:
“Please, I'm asking nicely...if your bids aren't genuine, be kind and remove them. I really don't want any trouble on my valentine's day image :( “

The comment was… polite enough, but quite telling about how she viewed me. Why she doubted my sincerity, I don’t know. I do know she scanned my user page and (understandably) did not like what she saw. Tough. There was no happy face on her comment for me- like there was for Murashu. No “Cool! Best of luck” for the likes of me. Nor did she leave a comment on any of the other bidders’ pages hinting that they should remove their bids. And that’s precisely what she was doing. Make no mistake. The message- Don’t interfere with my money making machine or the goon squad will come after you. I envisioned myself face-down in the tub. Just like Bobbi Kristina. And no one would be coming to my rescue. An hour later, I emailed 👑 to say that yes indeed, my bid was genuine, and knowing she wouldn’t believe me, I mentioned that I was also a contributor to her last V-day bid. She replied that she had been confused- after all, she was on my least favorites list. Understandable. I told her that the only requirement to get on that list is to be… an “A lister.” Of which she is. But this is business. Just out of curiousity, she says, what character do I want drawn? Good Lord, I’ve been down this road with her before. That pesky cycle, you see. I gave her my information. You would have liked my choice. As I recall, my concluding remark to her was: “The sheep, of course, is optional.” And I didn’t hear back from her again. And I won’t.

I informed 👑 that my duties would not allow me to watch the auction through to its end. Around 10:00pm I was forced to log off. I spent all night stewing, wondering if I had won or not. I didn’t have the freedom to check. After I put in the $900.00 bid I spent hours hoping to be outbid. I thought about all the things I should be spending that money on, like the rent. Then I warmed up to the idea that I might win. I was hoping I would win. Yes, it’s good to be a winner. I’ll show them. All those doubters, especially 👑. Imagine her surprise when I deposit all that money in her account. Yeah, that’ll… teach her… um… yeah. At 8:00am I checked my messages. There weren’t any. Well unless you count the one from Stormwolff, who outbid me just before the auction ended. The message, of course, was $975. Outbid by a lousy $75. The nerve. Stormwolff wasn’t taking any chances. Or maybe Stormwolff and 👑 weren’t taking any chances. I’m not suggesting any collusion. No. Of course not. No. Did I say no? Ok, then. I’m only saying that 👑 knew I would not be able to rebid. That’s all I’m saying. Nothing more. Than that. I'm not saying I would have made another bid. I had already made two unwise and possibly unwanted bids. But I also had not completely discounted the possibility of putting in a third bid. Stormwolff might have gotten me irritated enough to do it. Out of spite. But I never got a chance, and that's for the best. My wallet is grateful to be alive and kicking.
There wasn’t even a conciliatory message from anyone saying “So sorry you didn’t win. You would at least expect a thank you from 👑, after all, I drove up the bidding. She made a killing at my expense. Well… at Stormwolff’s expense, anyway. I don’t imagine she makes that kind of money everyday. There’s gratitude for you. Perhaps she imagines that we thank HER for the chance to throw our money at her feet. I, for one, am not grateful- but will say I was entertained by the goings on. That said, I'm shocked 👑 left all that lovely money languishing on the table. She could have cut a deal to do some commissions for the losers. Maybe she did- just not with me. Clever girl. Not that I care or anything, but I don't mind an occasional A-list schmoozing.

Btw, I did congratulate her as well as Stormwolff. Because that’s who I am. A class act.

Now that 👑 is furiously working on Stormwolff’s pick, the question remains: “Is it all paid for?”
Knowing 👑, and the disproportionately high winning bid, the answer is: “And then some! Ok?... Till it’s done."
Bang-bang!
Love, D-

To the last 16 people who watched me yesterday, I accidentally deleted you so I don’t know who all of you are. I try to personally thank every watcher individually but for some reason my delete finger was working overtime this morning. So I am writing this journal to mass- thank all of you for watching. It has been so hectic here lately and I can’t believe all the love and support you have shown me, especially over the past few months. Again, I’m soo sorry- thank you, all.
Ok.
Did anyone buy that steaming pile of crap?
Even a little? No?
If you did it’s alright. You are probably new here.
So raise your hand if you bought into it.
Go ahead! No one will know… HIGHER!
*Taking count*
There. That wasn’t so bad now, was it? Ok, hands down, people. In case you didn’t know, that excerpt was more or less from one of W**** Y***’s (now deleted) journals. I know some of you recognize it. I was watching as the rest of you attempted to soothe the worried brow on his cro-magnon forehead, reassuring him that none of his watchers would be offended by his overt carelessness. While you were busy assuaging him, I remember taking a little bit of brandy to dull the pain, then working up the courage to leave this witty little comment on his journal: “I believe it was Bonaparte who said: ‘The cemeteries are full of W**** Y***’s expendable watchers.’” I’m fairly certain I used the quotation marks correctly. If I didn’t… I don’t want to know about it. Anyway, that mutherfucker blocked me. Me! (W**** Y***, not Bonaparte.) And I never said one bad word about him. That mutherfucker.

The point? Is there a point? Oh, yeah. The point is that unlike that mutherfucker, I don’t have 16 watchers to expend. I have been waiting four long mutherfucking years to make a journal just like W**** Y***’s- announcing that I have so many new watchers that I can’t keep on top of it anymore and now I am resorting to mass postings because my time is ooh soo precious and I can’t be bothered anyway- and I’m still waiting to do that. Yes, that. But don’t worry; it’s never going to happen. I’m never going to have 16 expendable watchers. Do you know how many new watchers I got from my last submission? Zero. Zilch. Not one! I- I don’t understand. That homage to Karnage had everything, darlings: Torture, fire, branding, spooky skeletons, homo-eroticism and cute furries… even peen! It was creepy and sexy… a perfect storm of naughtiness. You could almost hear the Ten Commandments breaking, one at a time. The line-work was clean and everything. I gave you all I had to give and it still wasn’t enough for you. I’m spent. The late Joan Rivers once said: “The pretty girls don’t have to do anything to get a man. If you are not pretty, you have to really listen and work at getting a man’s attention.” She should know. I’ve done enough networking and cock-sucking here. All to no avail. I thought my latest submission would finally get me off the D-list. But I’m still here, stuck in purgatory after giving you the best years of my life…

Um...what was the question? Was there a Question? I don’t know. Here’s a question: What the fuck, people? If my art, my craft is not good enough, then that’s too damn bad.

But I don’t want to leave you drowning in negativity, the way you left me. So I will dwell on a more positive note. I have been looking at the pages of those who have faved my art. (Believe me, it doesn’t take long.) I am fascinated that my art is often wedged between the submissions of A-listers such as bin or nightmare and dream. Occasionally I’ve been faved right after zaush himself! Lovely. Occasionally I have also been faved right along with that God-awful submission by jarpanda that so many of you seem to like. Well, there’s no accounting for taste here. I may be a D-lister, but at least I’m finally rubbing elbows with the right neighbors. Hey zaush! Can I borrow a cup of sugar? I live right on the other side of the tracks.

Love, D-

So... it's been a few months darlings... so you know what that means...

So the Queen is at her balcony again, waving to Her adoring legions.
What's this? Does She detect unrest among the masses? How could this be? What to do?
That whole "Let them eat cake" just isn't cutting it anymore. Time for plan B.
It would seem Her Royal Majesty 👑 has deigned to serenade us with song in her attempt at pacification.
Let's see if it sounds familiar, darlings.
Her little ditty goes something like this:

It won't be easy, you'll think it strange
When I try to explain how I feel
That I still need your love
After all that I've done

You won't believe me
All you will see is a girl you once knew
Although she's dressed up to the nines
At sixes and sevens with you

I had to let it happen, I had to change
Couldn't stay all my life down at heel
Looking out of the window
Staying out of the sun

So I chose freedom
Running around, trying everything new
But nothing impressed me at all
I never expected it to

Don't cry for me, Argentina FurAffinity
The truth is I never left you
All through my wild days, my mad existence
I kept my promise, don't keep your distance

And as for fortune, and as for fame
I never invited them in
Though it seemed to the world
They were all I desired

They are illusions
They are not the solutions they promised to be
The answer was here all the time
I love you and hope you love me

Don't cry for me, Argentina FurAffinity
The truth is I never left you
All through my wild days, my mad existence
I kept my promise, don't keep your distance

Have I said too much?
There's nothing more I can think of to say to you
But all you have to do
Is look at me to know that every word is true

Ok. Maybe it doesn't go quite like this, but maybe it SOUNDS like this, don't you agree?
Yes, I'm a horrible, pathetic person, hardly worthy of being a soldier in Her Majesty's service. You might say I'm a defector. But I'm still in awe of the Queen. Her of sleight of hand is comparable to the Great Wizard of Triangulation, President Bill Clinton himself.
Let's see... what did She say now? Let's review Her journal, shall we:

"So, two webcomics I religiously followed recently ended (I won't say which, because I have nothing nice to say about them). One of them peetered out and the artists gave up on it, and the other ended. . . horribly, and left me feeling completely unsatisfied and sort of. . . angry, honestly. . . that so much of the storyline had been left unanswered, with gaping holes in it, and no sense of closure.

I just wanted to let you all know, especially those of you who follow Red Lantern. . . I will NEVER do this to you. Red Lantern's slowed down a lot over the last year for personal reasons relating to happenings in our lives (which I'm sure most of you all know by now) but we're slowly picking back up, and I can personally promise that I am absolutely in it for the long haul. I've been let down by nearly every webcomic I've ever read, and I told myself when I was a teenager that if I ever had a devoted following, I'd never subject an audience to such a huge let-down. I am completely dedicated to that promise.

In the mean time, if you follow Red Lantern but have been let down by the pace of the updates, I'd like to remind you all, I write novels in the Red Lantern world, as well. I post them right here on FA, and the books are available over at Furplanet.

In any case, don't lose hope, and never fear that I'll abandon you all. I would never subject my followers to THAT sort of pain :P

Other, 'you killed my favorite character and I'm crying in my cereal while reading this' sort of pain. . . well. . . I make no promises. . . . " -👑

Well... She's no Eva Peron, But ya gotta give Her credit. Bringing up Her angst and bitter disappointment at two comics She had been following: One was never finished, the other ended in a way that left Her unsatisfied. An egregious crime against the sensibilities of the Queen. And a lovely way to deflect criticism from Her own RED LANTERN comic.
(Although there is no evidence of criticism on the Queen's sanitized user page, there must be unrest somewhere in the ranks, hence the need for Her to address the masses with a journal.)
That RED LANTERN is on the back burner appears to be the source of concern. Or perhaps that She kills off more beloved characters than "The Walking Dead". Anyway, She counters this unseen criticism by flaunting Her virtuous nature. Oh, She would NEVER desert you like others have. Would NEVER leave you in the lurch. Would NEVER do this to you. Oh how the Queen has suffered for you... ye of little faith. Whatever.
Ain't passing the blame to others great? Um.. yeah. Look, someone had to suffer for the sake of 👑's art. I was just hoping it would be 👑, not us.
So... did Her dulcet tones assuage the masses? You decide. Here's just one of the many, many comments replying to her journal:

"Yay! Don't abandon us oh masterful one! Where will I spend my moneys then!?

Something tells me behind all of the comics and stories, you're secretly gathering an army of furry followers. So, when the time is right and you want to take over the planet in a hostile way, you'll count on us to do the fighting.

You get no argument from me. Just give me porn and I give you another solider. Win - win." -conrock

I still vote for "Let them eat cake" (Or is it "Cry in your cereal"?)
Love, D-

First gets me suspended for posting my thoughts about the GoFundMe campaign,
Then thanks me for my contribution to the campaign, and wants to know my t-shirt size.
XXL, darlings. (I'm a big bear with a belly to die for).
Such a bother, but I'll take my crappy Fender t-shirt just the same.
Smooches,
-D.

So... it's been a few months, darlings.
That means... TIME FOR ANOTHER 👑 JOURNAL!

Now, before I alienate the one or two watchers I have left, I need to say- I don't have anything against the old girl- really I don't. But, much like the Bush/Cheney presidency, there is such a wealth of comic fodder to mull over...
These journals almost write themselves, don't they? (Perhaps Jon Stewart can add a segment.)
So... let's get into it.

Two days ago, I stumbled onto 👑's recent journal: "Corrupt file". I wasn't sure what was going on but from the comments I was able to gather that 👑 had been live streaming or something while doing one of her digital art commissions- and going into the homestretch something up and died and she lost the whole thing. That's what I gathered. Maybe that's not what happened. But that's what I gathered. Those of you who were there may feel free to enlighten me. I'll pretend I care. Honest. And judging from the many comments, likely you WERE there.

So... Queen 👑 was in mourning- mourning the loss of her commission money.
Can't blame her.
She invested significant time and effort in the undertaking. Ten hours just on hair texturing. Oy. I could feel that her heart was broken. YOU tried your best to unbreak it- really you did. Falling all over yourselves to comfort her in her latest hour of need. Those hours add up, don't they darlings. If only they were billable. YOU directed her to site after site in a fruitless effort to find the image; YOU even posted the thumbnails that you had... somehow... collected of the work in progress.
Whatever.
I admire your tech savvy, btw.

Clearly from the comments, you were mourning with her, profoundly saddened as you were by the loss. I must admit, when I first started reading the comments, I had assumed someone close to 👑 had died. Once I realized it was a dead commission you were pining over, I thought to myself: "Wow, this must have been something great for people to have such a strong reaction." So I clicked on to one of the thumbnails someone posted. A blurry image of a foursome with one large dick tossed in for good measure. Porn. Should have known that was why you were mourning the loss so. Or maybe it was the ten hours of textured hair. I don't know. If I had known it was an adult image, I wouldn't have bothered clicking on it.
The stencils were nice, anyway.

I wanted to add my condolences.
Really I did.
But I refrained.
Wisely.
After all, 👑 was done, 👑 was spent. She could not go on. Recreating this labour of love was out of the question. She certainly did not need my snarky comments after giving everything she had in the [failed] interest of furthering furry porn. But I genuinely feel for her. Really I do. After all, I too, have labored over digital art only to lose it at the brink of completion. But, unlike 👑, no one would miss my art. If I could offer some comfort to 👑 and to you, I would say: One day in the near future, this lost art work will be spoken of as legend- something you had to be there to see. Oh, there will be rumors of sightings, but alas, it's gone- just like that Malaysian airplane. No, the other Malaysian airplane.

So... you told her to take a vacation. After all, she needed time to adjust to this "new normal". Hence, the next day popped up the 👑 journal: "Going dark for a while". Yes, our Queen needed time to sort out these computer issues and told us not to expect anything major for a while. She also said: "Other than working traditionally and maybe scanning a few things (laptop willing) I won't be able to do much for the next few days. After the disaster this weekend, some time off might honestly be a good idea anyway." After all she was done... right?
Well, here it is- a day later- she's streaming again. Oh, sure, it's traditional work. But work none the less. So much for going dark for a while. Money never sleeps.

Love, -D.

Rather, it doesn't pay to post other peoples' art unless you are popular.
Example:
 furrybob original artist, posted "The Brakes Da BRAAAKES!!!" - 4390 views.

 Skeletonpaw93 who posted "The Brakes Da BRAAAKES!!!" without furrybob's permission and renamed it: "OMG! Don't drive there its dangerous" - 97 views

I guess popularity makes all the difference.
So much for "art". Yes/no?

Finally happened today! I have a submission with 100 faves.
Only took two years.
I know you don't care, but I won't let that fact take anything away from my little bit of happiness.
So thank you anyway.

Love -D.

Because it magically disappeared.
Oh, well. People couldn't handle how fabulous it was.
Just so you know- Fender, as the face of F.A. is up for fair use, I don't care how you feel about it, or what "rules" you think you can hide behind.

I just came from visiting a repressive regime.
One that publically espouses freedom, but in truth allows no dissent among its people.
To air an unsanctioned opinion or to question authority is to invite the thought police to browbeat you into submission.
I escaped with my life... for now.
Many of you are still trapped there, mindless, oblivious, eager to please.
Falling all over yourselves to do the bidding of Fearless Leader.
Where is this regime?
Why, it's 👑's ussr page, of course.

Shhh... don't tell Mother Roo-kiss...
It's been a few hours, so... time to complain about 👑 again.
Oh, yeah I know you don't care and why don't I get a life and whatever.
Fine. But since nobody's going to read this, why not?
Ok, let's get into it:
I was refraining from writing this journal, but 👑 has pushed me over the edge.
Again.
👑 has recently taken me to task about my "mean and unnecessary comments" on her page as of late.
And, if you paid even the slightest attention to my comments on Her page- you probably would agree with Queen 👑 that my comments were "mean and unnecessary".
That is, if you paid even the slightest attention... which you didn't.
But I don't agree with the Queen's assessment of my comments. "Mean"? Really? What is she? Twelve?
Anyway, I honestly don't believe my comments were mean.
They were however, out of step with the thousands of other comments being inexplicably lavished on Her Majesty.
How so? To begin with, they did not consist of "Oh, Roo, your artwork and stories are so awesome!"
A little bit of vomit is coming up into my mouth just thinking about it.
In truth, some of my comments to Queen 👑 did consist of singing Her praises. (See my journal "Red Lantern" Rant and Rave")
Gradually I transitioned from being just another of the adoring masses, and started speaking my mind.
I thought I would escape unnoticed among the thousands of glowing comments, but 👑 has spies everywhere.
I am guilty of having a point of view, and, because it is not sympathetic to the monarchy, it has been interpreted as "mean" by the Queen herself.
Before my head ends up on the chopping block, I have decided to ease the Queen's torment by refraining from further comments on her page.
But in truth I've been biting my tongue all along... saying what I really think on my page.
It's a bit more... free here, don't you agree?

But I'm still monitoring Her transmissions... You know, radio free Europe and such.
So maybe I placed a burr under Her saddle, because what do you think She's complaining about now?
People sending Her bunches of unnecessary emails. (I was not one of those people, I only made contributions to Her paypal, period).
Again, She interprets these comments as a bad thing that must be curtailed.
If I could comment, I would tell Her it is a sign of Her transition to increasing fame.
👑's problem is that She is famous and broke, a horrible combination.
How She could be broke with all the money being tossed Her way is beyond me.
She doesn't even have to strip for it, for God's sake.
I believe it has to do with college loans... I empathize.
The point is, the difference between 👑 and someone like JK Rowling is that JK Rowling has an entourage of secretaries and yes men to do her gruntwork for her.
(Their one similarity, of course, is that their talent is vastly overrated.)
I'm sure Rowling hasn't seen an actual email from a fan in many years. Only what is filtered down to her by her sycophants.
Maybe one day you'll get there Queen 👑, but not today.
So I was perusing the many comments on the Queen's latest journal chiding the masses for wasting Her precious time... What did I see?
People falling all over themselves to comfort Her in Her hour of tribulation, as usual.
I'm not saying that's a bad thing, Lord knows I wouldn't mind having that problem.
Your damn right I'm suffering from a case of Roo-kiss envy, but let's put that aside for a minute, shall we?
They were actually apologizing for things that they may or may not have done.
They didn't even know.
They only knew that the Queen was angry and She needed to be pacified.
Now.
It was like the disciples asking Christ: "Am I the one who betrayed you?"
There's that little bit of vomit again.

Ps.
My comments were also construed as "unnecessary" by the Queen.
I agree- in a sense.
I would further add that ALL comments on FurAffinity are "unnecessary".
Which makes them all the more appreciated.
I know I have better things to do with my time.
I just don't want to do any of them.

Love, -D.

Sure F.A. sucks, but....

Hard to believe.
I remember watching  ^69 and a month or so later, the submissions stopped.
No explanation, nothing. I felt so alone and abandoned.
Alive, dead, don't know.
Even now, people are still leaving shouts on ^69's page.
Either unaware the page is abandoned or begging ^69 to come back.
Oh, well. At least ^69 didn't do a Wuffle on us and disable the page.

So 👑 is yammering on about these Amon-Red Lantern slave collars in three sizes that she's hawking.
Some big secret, she says.
Yeah.
Whatever.
My question:
Was this really a secret?
Did anyone think she WASN'T working on those slave collars?
I mean, did anyone NOT see that coming?
Only shock is that it took this long to shlep them out.

Love, -D.

Perhaps a journal that might finally interest someone. My beloved Toshiba laptop died a tragic and unexpected death last week. Making funeral arrangements now. Forced to buy another laptop. Mac or windows- I didn't know what to get. Loved my Toshiba dearly so I got another one. A slight upgrade from what I had. 17.3 inch. All the reviews said what a great display it had. Unfortunately it comes with windows 8. I hoped it wasn't as horrible as everyone said. It's actually much worse. Windows vista was heaven. I never once had to ask anyone for help. Now I'm in hell. Hours after I bought the damn thing, I was back at best buy begging for help. Computer doesn't let me do anything. Spent two and a half hours yesterday figuring out that my Kaspersky which is paid up for the next two years is not compatible because my back-up disc is too old. Worst part is when I went on F.A. and saw how awful my pictures look. The default resolution on my computer is 125%. I don't know if that is standard on all window 8s or just mine, but it makes the pictures blurry. Not just mine but others, too. But if I put it to 100%, everything is too small so I keep having to adjust the resolution. Also the colors on F.A. are just horrid now. On my last laptop, all the images were so beautiful and true to the original. Now my pictures look washed out, fuzzy and a sickly yellow- green. There is no option to change the tint. Why, I don't know, but there isn't. Is this what you have been seeing? If so, I apologize because I had no idea. And I don't know what to do about it. Any thoughts? Should I get out now while I still can?

 sexbad is doing an audio version of the story. Listen to campy naughtiness narrated with a straight face. Try to count all the George Michael songs.

http://www.furaffinity.net/view/10753966/

http://www.furaffinity.net/view/10754010/

http://www.furaffinity.net/view/10759868/

http://www.furaffinity.net/view/10760149/

Me and a friend walking out of a drug store.
Outside is parked a fancy dark suv. Tinted windows.
Not exactly an unusual sight around here, but the license plate was:
"8"
That was the number. Not 18. Not 88. Just 8.
I pointed it out to my friend.
Needless to say I was jealous.
"There are people who would kill for that plate!" I bitched.
"Who do they know at the registry to get that plate?!" I whined.

"Nobody" came the reply.
The owner/occupant + her entourage came up from behind us.
They didn't stop. One of her handlers opened the door for her.
As she got in she glanced back at us and said:
"I used to be Secretary of state."

The door closed, they sped off, we just stood there.
I guess everybody needs their drugs.

That ZZ Top song has been ringing in my head lately. I suppose legs, or the lack of them are in the news lately.(Prosthetic ones, in particular). You know of whom I speak. (No, not Heather Mills, ex-wife of ex-Beatle Paul). But if your mind goes to the tortured marriage of Heather and said Beatle, you would still be curiously on point. That point would be ill fated relationships. Let's continue.

What are the lyrics to that Eagles' song?
Something like:
I've got seven women on my mind-
Four that want to own me-
Two that want to stone me-One says she's a friend of mine.
I wonder which one Reeva Steenkamp fell under?

Yes, I'm going there. Yes, there.
So fasten your seatbelts for the ride. CHOO- CHOOOOOOO!!!

So the other day, I'm poolside with my f**kbuddies in West Palm Beach perusing the cover of the New York Post. Ok, when I say I'm in West Palm Beach, I mean...um..... Did you ever see that Bobbi Kristina Houston show (me neither!) where they all drone on and on about how they love living in Manhattan and every two minutes we see shots of the Manhattan skyline and........ we find out they live in New Jersey? Ok. So when I say West Palm Beach, I mean someplace within view of West Palm Beach.....But, um cheaper. Yes, that's it. Whatever. On the cover of the Post in big, bold letters: HOW I KILLED REEVA: BY OSCAR PISTORIUS.

Now among this particular clique, the topic of women is generally taboo- except for Liz, Liza, Lindsay, Barbra, Judy, Jodie(Only in the context of: "It's about friggin time!"), Cher, Xtina, Madonna (We used to talk about them, but now- not so much). And since its Oscar season (excuse the pun), sometimes Anne (In the context of "Love her short hair, but I still don't get why people say she's so beautiful. I mean, there is something weird about her face. All the mascara and lipstick in the world won't fix that mess.

Speaking of messes, I walked into a nice one: So we're sipping marghatinis by the pool and reading the paper (Nobody actually goes in the pool, by the way, it's all about seeing and being seen). Whatever. The f**kbuddy to the left grabs the newspaper out of my hand and exclaims: "How could anyone shoot that beautiful woman......" He then shook his head, unable to finish his thought. A new topic of conversation was opened! The logical conclusion of his thinking was that it was NOT OK to shoot beautiful people. (Agreed). But did that also mean it WAS OK to shoot the ugly ones? I'm sure that's not what he meant to say, but that's what I heard. Because I am a person of class and distinction, I overlooked his Freudian slip. So in reply, I gave my own opinion of the matter: "I guess you've never been in a bad relationship... otherwise you wouldn't ask that question."

(Yes, I'm going there!)
*Blank stares from my f**kbuddies.*

So, as the world went from sympathizing with Pistorius- to being suspicious of him- to chastising him for his lack of self-control- I was actually admiring him for his self-restraint. If it were me, I'd shoot that stall full of bullets until my damn hand cramped up. But hey, that's just me. Now don't get me wrong- I don't pretend to know what went on behind closed doors, but I'm sure she took him on a ride to hell and back again by the time he picked up that gun. It's no coincidence that this happened around Valentine's Day. He finally had enough. She finally had enough. Been there.

What are the lyrics to that Jim Croce song?
You don't tug on Superman's cape-
You don't spit into the wind-
You don't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger-
And you don't mess around with....... a cripple.
Um, no.... wait! It's.....
And you don't mess around with a world famous athlete!
Yes! That's it!
(Cough, OJ. cough.).

Now I don't expect you younger furries to understand the level of desperation involved here. I mean... have you ever paced up and down your yard in a robe and carrying a shotgun while shouting at the police: "She's MY woman! She's MY woman now!" Meanwhile you can hear intermittent screaming from inside the house. Two cruisers are parked out front waiting for you to take "provocative action." You don't ever want to get on the wrong side of a policeman's baton. My ass is still sore.

Why didn't Reeva just run? I don't know. I would like to think that at 03:00 in the morning, he wasn't wearing his prosthetic legs. But maybe he was. Maybe she couldn't outrun him. So she hid. Maybe that's it. Had she known, she could have dumped his legs off the balcony; should have dumped the rest of him off that balcony, too. One thing I do know, she was planning to dump his sorry ass, at least. Likely for the second time. That's what Valentine's Day is for, you know. Ain't love grand?

Meanwhile, I'm still wasting away again in Margheritaville. Searching for my lost shaker of salt. Some people say that there's a woman to blame. But I don't. It's my own damn fault.

Love- D

The silence is broken!!!

On a vaguely, and I do mean vaguely related note to my latest art submission,
I thought it would be of interest to mention that "Silence of the Lambs" actress Jodie Foster is now out of the closet.
Not the furry closet.
The gay closet.
Publicly.
And officially, according to a press slobbering over every detail.

Whatever.
No huge shock there.
Let's face it: If "Charlie Brown" had been made into a motion picture,
Jodie would be at the top of the list to be cast as "Peppermint Patty".
Only shock is that she did it at all.
Why, who knows?
Perhaps for the sake of the children. (I'm sure she wants them to be proud of her)
Or maybe she has a new lover that wants to be seen with her in public.
Personally, I smell an autobiography in the works.

Happened January 13th during her "riveting" acceptance speech at the Golden Globes.
Thanked her babymama Cydney Bernard.
Her two kids.
And her BFF, Mel Gibson.
Lord, I hope he's not the babydaddy.
Yawn.
I was far more interested in the Armani Prive she was wearing.
Was there anyone who didn't know?

Oh yeah....
John Hinckley Jr.
Remember him?
Back in the eighties he was obsessed with Jodie. (Weren't we all?)
He fired a few bullets at President Reagan in order to impress her.
Thirty years later, he's still in a psychiatric hospital.
Wonder if he saw her speech.
If only he had known way back when that he never had a shot at her.
Oh, well.
At least he had a shot at the President.

What? Too soon?

What is with this "happy new year" crap?
What's so happy about it?
A week or so ago, everyone was saying "Nice knowing you."
I suppose they were actually happy to have survived a bunch of silly media nonsense.
The next day, everypony pretended as if nothing had happened. And I guess that's because nothing did happen.
It seemed like some sort of cruel trick imposed upon us for the past year. One that we must never speak of again lest we drag out the foolishness of men.
Sadly, the world as we know it did not end.
I was rather looking forward to it.
Finally a break in the drudgery, you know?
The unescapable reality is that the world as we know HAS ended before and WILL end once more.
Is it actually good news. (So I'm told.)
God's kingdom is now ruling and will soon remove the religious, political, and economic systems of this world.
(Which admittedly, is a good thing.)
Replacing them with wonderful things in store for mankind.
However, when the "end" comes has been decided by God and not by the calendars of men.
Unfortunatley for most of mankind, these unending end of world scares serve to make people believe that it will never happen and that things will always be this way.
Woe for them.
I fell the most pity for those who think they are prepared and are just waiting to be raptured up to heaven when it happens. They are in for a rude awakening.
Fah.
Anyway, last year sucked- next year promises more of the same.
The world goes back to sleep in willful ignorant bliss concerning the urgency of the times we are living in today.
The only silver lining is that at least I am another year closer to death- sweet death.
So I won't wish any one a happy new year. Rather I wish you all another year of ignorant bliss.

Love- D

"Before we start, I would like to take a moment to reflect on the tragedy in Newtown... A senseless tragedy- one that has profoundly affected so many here in Connecticut. The thought of something like this happening so close to home seems unthinkable- and yet it did happen. So we look for answers. We try to find meaning from meaninglessness and hope from hopelessness. When will these things no longer be? A weary world looks for the day when there will be no more sorrow, nor mourning, nor outcry, nor death or pain- for the day when these things will have passed away.... and until that day comes, we hold our babies tight....."

Does that sound convincing?
I'm never sure about these things.
Damn.

So I'm looking over Tuesday's New York Post, my only link to civilization in this lost corner of the world.
The headline:
"The sky is crying!" yadda, yadda, yadda.
"It is a sad, sad day!" blah, blah, blah.

ENOUGH ALREADY!!!!

I don't mean to be a self-absorbed a--hole, but let's get back to the things that really matter.
Namely: The trials and tribulations of Lindsay Lohan! Now THERE'S a real American tragedy for you. I mean, I haven't even SEEN her on the front page for like a week now. What the hell? I'm getting tired of seeing photos of hearses carrying little child-sized coffins, aren't you? It's time to get back to photos of Lindsay- unconscious- her emaciated form sprawled out on the back seat of her Maybach, one skeletal arm slumped over her bloodshot, swollen eyes.... the other cradling a half empty bottle of Grey Goose. And yes, her little black dress is riding up on her, revealing her pantyless, freshly waxed....

You get the picture. Oh, wait! That's my point! Where are those damn pictures? I want to see! Inquiring minds want to know! But thanks to this Newtown thing, I'm now out of the loop. I don't even know if she's in jail, overdosing, dead or what. I need my fix. But nooooooo. These so-called journalists want to report on "real issues." (Barf!) Well, you want news? Let me give you people a news flash: There is a massive trainwreck happening in West Hollywood RIGHT NOW.
And Lilo is at the controls.
"All aboard!"

Oh, speaking of trainwrecks- did you see "Liz and Dick"? Fabulous! There were even a few scenes where she was convincing as Liz. (Namely the scenes when her mouth was shut.) My favorite part? Near the end when she threw a hissyfit because someone accused her of being fat! The irony. It was unintentionally funny. Imagine, Lilo being called fat- it's like Liz being called thin. Snicker.
Now don't get me wrong; I'm not indifferent about Lilo's plight, or even that of the people of Newtown. I really do care deeply.

Did that sound convincing?
I'm never sure about these things.
Damn.

The fact of the matter is that I am currently on a business trip. Some God-forsaken place called Farmington, Connecticut. (I know, right?) As it turns out, Connecticut is a rather small place. In fact, I have come to believe that the whole state is little more than one giant strip mall. (By the way Farmington, your Disney store sucks.) And being a small place, people around here are talking about the massacre and little else.
And thus, I find myself trapped here, stuck in the awkward position of pretending to care. Hence, the flowery words of compassion at the beginning of this rant. You see, my work involves public relations; You know, public speaking, bowing, shaking hands, kissing babies, all that crap. So........ I can only imagine that at today's afternoon meeting/dinner/drinks/karaoke bar hell- they will expect me to open with a few words expressing our profound sorrow- yadda, yadda.
I so badly wanted to slither away from this sh*thole and head back for the city- to civilization- just for the night. But I don't dare leave these Asian contributors alone and up to their own devices. They need to be monitored at all times....... kind of like Lilo.

So... Ok, let's try it once more- with feeling:

"Before we start, I would like to take a moment to reflect on the tragedy in Newtown... A senseless tragedy- one that has profoundly affected so many here...."