Hey. It's been a while.

So what does one say after being under the radar for over a decade?

I mean, if you were on Tapestries MUCK, you may have seen me doing my usual hijinks of making various fem furs heavy with milk, kits, or both. But outside of Taps, I really haven't been very active in the furry community at all for quite a while.

I let my FA page languish and didn't even bother uploading new art I'd gotten. So here's an update on how I am.

I'm in my 40s now. My grandparents and mother passed away. I'd been living on what they left me for a few years now, but that's going to come to an end before too long. I've been trying to learn programming and game development so I won't have to go back into IT helpdesk work, but motivation has been hard.

Oh yeah, I finally came out as Trans. Turns out cis people don't really don't exclusively roleplay women and hermaphrodites for 20+ years. Things have been pretty nice since starting HRT. I'm looking forward to more changes, and to being honest with myself.

I hope you like the new art of Foxy. I'll probably commission some more in the near future.

I have a bit of an issue with lying.

Oh, I know. Quite hypocritical. Role Play is the poor man's Acting, and what is acting but the grand execution of a well rehearsed lie?

Every time I log into Taps, I'm lying about my gender, profession and a dozen different measurements.

The lie I hate most, however, is when you claim something is the final straw and the words "never" or "forever" are used. They're two states of the same concept, infinity. "For the rest of time", yea or nay.

When I say "I'm never coming back", I damn well fucking mean it. Mostly because of honor. Or honesty, perhaps.

Inevitably, if someone says "I'm never coming back", some other person will cast doubt and will call you out as a liar with "They'll be back".

NO.

When I'm gone, I'm fucking gone.

When a local Subway charged me double the price of a sandwich just for asking to replace one meat with another, I told myself I would never go back. And I haven't, to any subway since, in over two years. When a message board I used to moderate at closed down my forum due to philosophical disagreements, I vowed to never return. Naturally, I was taunted with "You'll be back". 13 years later, NOPE ASSHOLES, I MEANT FOREVER.

It's not a grudge either. It's self preservation. When I leave and vow to never return, it's because I've endured an unnecessary hardship of some sort, and no amount of reason or apologies are going to make up for it. Leaving yourself in an abusive situation is sadistic.

To this effect, when someone says "I'm never coming back", I take their word for it. I see you, as me. You've assessed the situation, you've recognized something as conflicting to you that cannot be changed reasonably, so you are removing yourself from harms way. Good for you. I'm certain that this decision is the best decision.

So if you say these things, I believe you. I take it as a sign of proper permanence. This is goodbye. I may hate to see you leave, but best of luck on your journey.

HOWEVER...

If you toss this shit around willy nilly and do come back, you've lost my trust. You've lied to me. And much more importantly, I've already grieved for your departure.

I CAN'T BE HAPPY THAT YOU'RE BACK BECAUSE YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE GONE FOREVER.

That's what you told me. That's why I was sad. If you had eluded to the notion you'd come back some day, I would hold out some glimmer of hope that this might be true. I would remember you fondly as a time that might be visited anew someday, rather than feel remorse and mourning that these memories of better times would never be repeated.

You're a goddamn liar, and I wish you'd stayed gone. I'll prefer not to associate with you again, as you've already proven your affinity for lying and abandoning your compatriots. You know who you are.

So, someone actually posted a comment on one of my.. now three year old journal posts, and it reminded me that this feature exists. Ha! So, I updated my profile info. You know, since I'm no longer 25, playing PS2 or consider Burnout one of my favorite game series. (Curse you EA for defiling all the pretty ones)

Yeah! So, a lot has happened since three years ago.

Back then, I was strongly considering giving up fur RP *and* furry art because some select persons had taken a severe, heavy, putrid shit all over my enjoyment of Foxy as a character and anthros as a sexy past-time.

I got over it, mostly. I do still play Foxy on occasion on Taps, but considering I got 80 percent complete writing her departure epitaph, I'm also kind of over her as well. I hold absolutely no illusions that she'll ever have a steady mate or a compelling story line ever again. But every now and then, I drag her out of the toy chest to jiggle her big melon tits and floppy fertile cock over some eager one night stand.

In a way, she lived in as a new character on a "BE centric" mush called Dawn of BE. BE stands for Breast Expansion. You know, tits getting bigger! My favorite flavor of tea, I must say. Alas, the humanified Alexandria Trinity, busty hermy redhead scientist, recently suffered a fate worse than death. Her IC girlfriend quit the game, thus making months of sexy, intimate play all for naught.

What a gnarled, pustule-ridden cunt.

I can see if you need a break, or if you duck into hiding to avoid certain assholes, but literally departing from the mush entirely without so much as a page mail to people who've been playing with, daily, for months? Holy fuck that's rude. More over, when coaxed to explain herself as to why the sudden vanish, she lays down the "Well, this isn't real, so whatever". Is this fucking 1998? What kind of backward sphincter roaches still consider online interactions to be "not real"? I'm not a fucking AI subroutine. When you exit the browser window, I do not simply go away. The actions in online RP may not be real, but that doesn't mean that they're empty expressions. If there wasn't enjoyment and emotion in RP, why would anyone do it at all? We're not all sociopaths, thankyouverymuch.

So, Foxy is semi-retired and Alexandria is functionally dead. Not a great run of luck for the Trinity legacy. But I'll soldier on and continue to play other characters on Dawn, delighting in the imagination conjuring text of big squishy tits getting bigger, heavy with milk and warm with fleshy substance.


Hey, how about an RL check in, since my old journals were all gloom and doom and fuckery?

I'm 31 now. That kind of sucks. No more or less than 30 or 29, but considering I've been single for six years, it's a bit of a kick in the pants considering how many of my friends and coworkers are either engaged, married or already settled into a house with kids.

I finally have a dependable car that was made less than a century ago. That's exciting. Still making payments on it, but! I also have secured a very nice job at a big name IT company and I'm salaried. Woo! Finally making enough money to both living comfortably and pay off my previous debts, including the small bit of homeless credit card living from a few years ago and my student loans. If everything goes according to plan, I'll be mostly if not completely debt free in five years. That'll be awesome.

I still have roommates, but they're all new since previous journal entries. Everyone has good jobs and respectable, adult understanding of personal space. I could probably afford to live alone, but I do like the hint of socializing outside of work and it helps pay down my debts faster.

Anyway, that's all for now. Checking FA for skeezy fur porn is still part of my daily link review. Shame that Doug seems to be gone for a few years now, but I've found a handful of other BIG 'UN artists which cater to my tastes nicely. Assuming my new characters don't implode before I have expendable income, maybe I'll get a commission done and show them off.

Thanks for reading this, and for watching me for some reason. You're adorable. Most people would've unsubbed after a couple years without an update.

Looking back at last year's birthday post, I guess things are better this year.

I'm no longer stuck in the "loveless relationship" of a house I can barely stand to be in with ineffectual housemates. So that's a plus. Though I am more removed from my circle of physical friends now than I was a year ago, today is a stark improvement compared to where I was six months ago.

I'm really only posting here, today, because it seems like a very belated note of concern.

Hello furry lifestyle of mine, we haven't talked in a while. I meant to sooner, but things came up.

About.. Eight months ago, I guess it was, I decided that I was done playing Foxy Trinity with any sort of seriousness. All the story threads had become tangled and dirty. All the relationships had become complicated, unpleasant and largely unnecessary. In the back of my mind, the good doctor was waiting in line at the guillotine and I would soon end her fictional existence with a flashbang of story writing in which everything fades to white and she's never quite seen again save the ghost image burned into the retinas of those who stared too long.

Life was hard at the time of that decision, and only got worse there after.

Neither time nor money has been particularly plentiful and a half written story still lingers in a folder of files to finish sorting through, succumbing to data rot and a landfill of forgotten ideas. There was no great going out with a bang, so much as fading from view; popping in at rare occasion when the idle craving for a half forgotten fetish stirs for long enough that I might hunt it down with the only dog left in the kennel. The plans for Foxy's retirement, and her replacement, remain in limbo.

So here we are. Another year older. Few to none of the goals from the last year completed. But look at all the lovely baggage we've accumulated.

Someday I'll part with some of it.

Life seems to be ganging up on me lately.

If anything, my intuition is perched on a balcony doing the caramelldansen boogie in a 'I told you so' loop that I shouldn't have gone to Manhattan for a brief, optional school conference. The consequences of such seem to be piling up into two to three thousand dollars in money lost due to travel fees and not finishing a critical class necessary to carry on financial aid for this quarter.

Though three grand is nothing to shrug off, I don't feel it's the root of my problem. Ever since January I've been sleeping more and not as well. My room mates have suggested a sleep apnea problem, which is always nice to think about not-breathing while sleeping. Compounding matters is a flu bug in November and February which may have left some tonsillitis or bronchitis; as experienced by lingering lousy breathing problems/coughing.

Knowing that sleep isn't as good as it has been, I seem to put it off until I'm exhausted. Staying up well into the early morning with no real motivation. Head full of murky thoughts and no one to talk about them with.

3AM PST isn't prime time for chatting with people. It never has been, despite my nasty habit of the past ten years plus of being awake at this this time. But afternoon life is usually pleasantly distracting enough to keep me occupied away from the deep and disturbing issues that wander the hallowed halls of my mind past midnight. When people are actually around to talk to, the unspoken specters of 3am aren't stirring yet.

The nagging lonesomeness of having few peers and no substantial relationships is at least something I've come to terms with. Mostly because I've decided that men are fucking idiots and women scare the hell out of me. Between the two genders, the average specimen is so contemptibly stupid or self absorbed that one truly would be better off with a dog. For their lack of communication skills, it's hard to find such loyalty or lack of narcissism in human companions. I honestly can no longer remember when I encountered a woman that didn't have some crippling psychological issue or a man who wasn't absorbed into a primary obsession that composed his personality.

Ignorance is bliss. Oh to be five again, and to believe you hadn't seen enough of the world to pass judgment yet. The sad fact is that, unless you've lead a sheltered life in an unpopular crevasse of the world, you've probably met, bumped into, encountered or spoke to in passing several hundred to several thousand unique individuals each year you've been alive. And while 20,000+ thousand people encountered by the time you're twenty something isn't a 'fair' sample of 6 billion people on earth, it's certainly a large enough sample to see a broad range of good, bad and ugly in what humanity has to offer.

Natural disasters aside, terrible things happen in the world because of terrible people. Oh, I know, how can I blame avian flu on terrible people? Well someone wasn't doing their job quite well enough if an outbreak occurred and simmered a few months. Chernobyl? 9/11? Every war ever? Some ass hat politician? Crime? Step up to the plate. These are man made problems, caused by terrible people making terrible choices. And so long that people accept life's fuck ups as some sort of fate driven inescapable conclusion, then terrible people continue to exist to do further terrible things to the world. Accountability. If you don't stop terrible people from being terrible, terrible shit continues. But terrible people control the world, and the masses haven't yet figured out that they outnumber these ass hats, so terrible things continue. Over and over again.

How can people be happy knowing this? Either they don't know it, and they're stupid (but happy!) or they do know it, and are trying to drown out the horribly depressing reality by cramming billions of dollars into the entertainment industry to distract them from it. There's not much silver lining on either cloud.

I need a sleep doctor and a shrink. Or someone to make me happy. Maybe all three.

If you follow some of the bustier furs on FA, you might know that 'Stel' is having a birthday April 1st.

First off, Happy birthday Stel. I'm pretty sure we've never spoken IC or otherwise, but your fursona has great tits.

Second, my birthday was yesterday, the 22nd.

My housemates didn't wish me a happy birthday until one of them which uses Facebook happened to sign in and saw my friend from where I lived five years ago had wished me a happy birthday on 'my wall'.

Of the people I talk to via messenger on a daily basis, only two of them knew it was my birthday and again, facebook is to blame.

Of everyone I play with in mushes and mucks, only one page mailed me a happy birthday.

Of family members, mom and dad both called but only the grandparents sent a card in which my only present (a check) was received.

One of those life lessons that the over thirty fail to tell the under thirty is that birthdays matter less and less to everyone around you until they become an excuse for someone to bring a cheap cake to the office. Since this reality check is never distributed to the gleeful 20 year old and the drunken stupor of the 21st can't be bothered, it's a slow fizzle of decreasingly celebrated birthdays as the chipper parties of our youth descend into the social backwaters of thirty something.

I think the source of mild contempt that spawns a journal posting like this has something to do with the exploit capable power of youth and how it's lost over the years. It's perfectly acceptable for a 19 year old to parade into Chili's and get a free birthday dessert surrounded by singing wait staff because they declared it's their birthday. Likewise, in the halls of furry, the young and inspired may receive anything from a free IC lap dance to gratis artwork to celebrate their birthday. At least until people stop caring.

The whole concept of celebrating a birthday is a bit strange if you think about it. It's a celebration of a person leaving the womb. Not that they were particularly cute or intelligent as a newborn, but through a series of other events that are less celebrated they've survived long enough to become the person they are today. So in the proper sense, it's the anniversary of your birth; but as no one is passing around your baby pictures and applauding the hour you cried and shat your way into the world, it's really your personal holiday where people appreciate the fact you exist.

Presents and cards are nice. But I don't get near enough appreciation that I exist. In My Opinion.

As no journals I've seen have linked to this, I must assume that I'm "first".

http://darkdiamond.net/web-notes/th.....oob-tube-test/

Do the boob-a-loo shuffle.

Nobody tagged me, I just fancy annoying people who've watched me for the naked foxy picture n.n


[01] Do you have the guts to answer these questions and re-post as The Controversial Survey?

Why yes, yes I do.

[02] Would you do meth if it was legalized, and become a strung-out, whithered hust of a man/woman you are now?

If I wanted to kill myself, why would I spend thousands of dollars and years of ill health to do so? Pass.

[03] Abortion: for or against it?

For it, and for plenty of reasons.

Let me say up front that I've known people with some pretty horrible diseases, and apart from the mood swings/emo that does seem to come with living an 'impaired' life, there's nothing wrong with these people to the degree that they can't lead rich and meaningful existences. That said...

The world is adequately populated as it is, thanks. And if a woman for any significant reason, be it rape, incest, early detection of critical diseases or a state in which giving birth would be fatal to herself... do it up. My religious leanings start well before conception and end well after brain death, but more importantly I think the parent(s) have the right to decide if they are fundamentally unprepared to host an unwanted or severely handicapped child.

Further more, I do support and prefer alternatives to abortion. By all means, there should be state managed programs to advise reluctant mothers before they give birth and set up adoption arrangements before we add more dumpster babies and 'child dies in closed car' statistics to the long list of unfit parents.

[04] Do you think the world would fail with a female president?

It's silly to believe that gender alone could cause anything to fail (except a penis pump. Kinda ineffective on vagina). Now, I think that examples of female leadership in American government have been fairly poor. Good ol' boys in skirts that do little to shake up the establishment. But really, having a person who's bought and sold by lobbyists running the country is a bad deal, man or woman.

If Ron Paul was Paula Renolds, I'd vote for her. Why not?

[05] Do you believe in the death penalty?

I believe in an extremely revamped justice system. Here's an idea. Eye witnesses? Video tape? Conclusive evidence of weapon and outcome? Some nutball goes on a school shooting rampage and is caught, witnessed by dozens and filmed from multiple angles. Gun in his name, bullets match up, prints all over it. Give him a trial within a week. Overwhelming evidence says guilty. Trial lasts no longer than a work week, sentence carried out that weekend. Saves everyone time and money, and the families of the departed get a small feeling of justice served while the pain is still fresh.

The death penalty isn't perfect, but neither is the justice system. Unfortunately, the minds of petty criminals are often deterred by the threat of death as justice for their crime. It's just part of the fucked up world we live in. And really, given the alternative... life in prison... What is the point of having tax payers support a public menace for years, even decades?

I believe in eye for an eye justice. Kill the killers, neuter the rapists, heavily garnish the wages of the embezzlers. I may even support assaulting the assailants and vandalizing the property of vandals. Truly, if you want to impose a morality onto a people, which is what the law is largely there to do... then why not support 'Do unto others as you would have others do unto you'?

[06] Do you wish marijuana would be legalized already?

I've tasted the wacky plant. And you know what? It's not a big deal. I guess my biology just doesn't make it some awesome wonderland (or a bad anger/paranoid trip), it just makes me sleep better. Not worth the insanity of street prices nor breaking the law.

But to that extent, I think the law is idiotic. As is marijuana's involvement on the war on drugs. Hundreds of millions of dollars wasted on raids, trials and incarceration of people who have had no prior criminal record. The studies have been done over, and over, and over... you can't OD on it, it doesn't cause cancer or organ failure, and there's little to no long term damage (besides lung damage, and that's attributed to certain methods of inhaling it). That's better than you can say for cigarettes, liquor or pain killers; all of which are legal.

I have no doubt that legalizing marijuana would increase the amount of dumbshit accidents that happen while intoxicated, much like alcohol, but at that point you prosecute someone for being irresponsible. In a society where it's okay to be drunk or so distracted by entertainment that you're out of touch with the world around you, exactly what is wrong with yet another avenue of personal enjoyment when used responsibly?

[07] Are you for or against premarital sex?

Hard to say. My aunt once said "Always fuck her before you commit. You can change a lot of things about yourself and about other people, but a bad lay tends to stay a bad lay. And that will ruin a relationship." Sage advice. On the other hand, maybe there wouldn't be so many divorces if people got to know each other a good, long, intimate time rather than forging a marital bond over 'that thing you do with your tongue'.

[08] Do you believe in God?

Gods, plural. Neo-Theosophy is fun.

[09] Do you think same sex marriage should be legalized?

Say it with me. Marriage is a officially recognized union of two persons in a consenting relationship. Wedding is a culture/religion-centric concept of a ceremony where two people are married in the tradition of the represented culture/religion.

You can be married without having a wedding, and since religion is not recognized by the government (AHEM), the position of any religion barring a wedding for any circumstances should not impact the ability to have an officially recognized marriage.

[10] Do you think it's wrong that so many Hispanics are illegally moving to the USA?

Maybe it would be 'wrong' if our borders weren't such a joke. As it is, I think it's a shame that Mexico is so terrible they're coming here. It is kind of fucking irritating that they expect American privileges without paying taxes or speaking English, though (exceptions made for illegals who pay income tax and speak English).

[11] A twelve year old girl has a baby, should she keep it?

Does she want it? Can she care for it? In reality, it's going to fuck with her life enormously unless her parents or grandparents step in as primary caregivers for the baby. I don't think she should be forced by law or regulations to give it up, but public health and school officials should make the difficulties and available options known to the family.

[12] Should the alcohol age be lowered to eighteen?

I think it might be better to raise the age to twenty five, honestly. Arbitrary numbers, in reality. Some people mature faster than others, and some people slower than the majority. A drunken idiot that cuts off his hand with a bandsaw is an idiot whether forty three or nineteen.

In a looking back on it perspective, teenagers are usually unprepared for real life and responsibilities which accounts for a higher number of teen driving accidents.. even when sober. Naturally, you don't want to compound that with an intoxicant. Twenty One isn't quite the mature age, I've noticed.. but it's better than eighteen.

[13] Should the war in Iraq be called off?

I'll say what I said in 2002. You can't have a war with no front line. We're not fighting a foreign power, we don't belong there.

We could've had full biometric ID and iron clad borders had we spent every dime of the Iraq war on domestic defense strategies. Instead people are still doing stupid shit at airports and tens of thousands of people have died fighting a perpetual battle of cultural tension.

Bring 'em home tomorrow. Sure, power vacuum, some ass hat will take over a crumbled Iraq and start wagging bad fingers at us again. But take very soldier that was guarding a dust pit and put them in an airport/train station/border crossing, and not only will morale rise but we'll be safer.

[14] Assisted suicide is illegal: do you agree?

If you want to stop living, by all means; go for it.

[15] Do you believe in spanking your children?

I believe in discipline, but I don't believe violence is a constructive answer. Children are a bit like animals, they respond best when you give them attention and guidance. If you spoil them, you lose their attention and they only obey you to get what they want. If you beat them, they'll resent it and may turn on you. Reward them for a job well done, take away their rewards when they're bad.

[16] Would you burn an American flag for a million dollars?

Depends on the flag. I wouldn't burn a memorial flag, or a flag that had a prominent role in history.

But if you're talking about the nylon bullshit I've seen at walmart or flying from car antennas that don't belong to the president... Star spangled BBQ. A flag, or any symbol, only has meaning if imbued with it during the course of events it has endured. The fabricated red, white and mass produced falling out of China's industrious asshole does not have 'american pride' just because it looks like Old Glory.


[17] Who do you think would make a better president? McCain or Obama?

What is a president? A representative for the people of a nation? A speaker to our enemies and allies? A maker of goals and setter of plans to lead this country in a decisive direction?

Obama, hands down. I've seen little out of McCain that wasn't more 'stay the course' and 'that guy's fault' BS.

[18] Are you afraid others will judge you from reading some of your answers?

I invite people to jump up and down in rage. I'll snicker and watch them jiggle.

[19] The President has been kidnapped by NINJAS! Are you a bad enough dude to rescue the President??

The current president? .... Yeeeeah, the Ninjas can have him. I like Ninjas more every day.

A rare glimpse into the conspiracies of the vixen. Not my music, of course; but riddles within rhymes.

http://www.last.fm/music/USS+(Ubiquitous+Synergy+Seeker)/_/Turquoise+111?autostart

You can find more of USS' music on last.fm as well as myspace.


Also, Wall-E was a good film. See it. Fun stuff.

Be glad I can't draw what's in my head :P

Despite playing a doctor online, it was only today that I officially received my associates in applied science.

Wooooo. Diploma vixen!

I'd like to share a little something with you, FA Journal o' mine and limited readership.

I was recently in a minor car accident. Neck was sore for a few days, but I drive an older car which is 90% metal; so it only suffered a well dented bumper. Low speed, under 15 mph; I'd say we both weren't looking as I was pulling out from park and the other driver was moving faster on an open two lane road.

A week later, I discovered the house I'm living in is entering foreclosure. This has absolutely nothing to do with me, as I'm not the home owner and I pay my rent diligently. However, the homeowner didn't see fit to tell me the dire circumstances of his financial status; I learned this from a debt consolidator who had come to the door citing the fact that the house was listed for sale in an upcoming foreclosure sale by the county. I was politely and apologetically told by this man that there was a week to settle the debts, or the house would be sold and we would be given 21 days to leave before being evacuated by the sheriffs. Should this happen (and it's quite likely given the homeowner's desperate financial status), I would be forced to move before or during the week of my college finals.

Many of my friends who heard this story were sympathetic. Multiple offers of help and wishing that they could do something.

And yet, a distinct percentage of my colleagues met one or both portions of this ill fated news with surprising results. I was, understandably, absent from school after the car accident and when citing the reason for my absence, one female class mate scoffed "Yeah right". She believed I would make up a story about being in a car accident? Holy shit.

I told a girl who was intending to visit me later this month of the house foreclosure and how she wouldn't likely be able to visit as I didn't have any place to live. She responded with "Oh cool" and then "Let me know if you need help moving or something". Oh cool? Of all the fucking things to say when someone is losing their place to live, 'oh cool' is far removed from the top one thousand.

Another woman who I would have considered my spiritual confidant for our shared unusual beliefs, met the news of my impending eviction with "Ah", before deftly returning the topic to herself and the benefits of the self-help course she'd recently been to. She then persisted that any (and I do underscore any) reason I had for being stressed or depressed was purely my doing; the result of over dramatic emphasis entirely of my concoction.

This series of events has lead to the breakdown of previously fair going friendships. I am not merely insulted by the total apathy extended to me by fellow human beings (even the staff at my local sandwich shop were shocked to hear of the car accident and quite concerned); I am FLABBERGASTED that people in normal jobs and school can actually function like this.

It also throws into doubt a fair share of the bullshit that the media and various women's rights movements have been lobbing at the public eye for years now. Previous to now, I've met a fair share of incredibly apathetic and downright sociopath-like persons both in person and online. But in this cascade failure of women failing to live up to the "sensitive gender" that "shares their feelings" supposedly more so than males, I am utterly aghast that my male compatriots have not only expressed remorse and pity for my situation but also genuine altruism of assisting me more than I have quantifiably aided them. And the women... they are absent.

The princess, the mother, the queen; where are the archetypes of the ages? What am I to cherish and respect when the modern female is more brutish than the modern male? Where have all the flowers gone? And don't tell me that male oppression has stomped them out, as men are practically taking their place!

Now I know this seems to have little to do with fur, but in actuality I've seen this "imaginary importance" argument before stem from two furry players in particular which exhibit all of the symptoms of Dissocial personality disorder (a disambiguation of the clinical diagnosis of Sociopath disorder). It occurs to me that this way of thinking; this decision that other people don't actually experience real pain or crisis but have made it all up, I think this may be implicit of a symptom of being a sociopath. While I don't know for certain what gender the players of these two sociopath furs were, the fact most of their morphs were female at least leads me to suspect that once again the formula of 'estrogen = sensitivity' is woefully wrong.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't "normal" (stable) supposed to have traits of sympathy and empathy which allow them to coexist within a functioning society? If we didn't, then there would be no reason to coexist at all; it would be everyone for themselves.

Seriously... what the fuck is wrong with these people?

I am, more or less, back. Which is to say I'm lurking about under buddy list locked messenger again and peeking my nose onto the mucks when time and desire permit.

But it wasn't without incident.

You see, I am a western vixen with eastern ideals. I like the idea of forgive and forget, of savoring new found peace and moving past the tragedies of yesterday. The western part tends to carry a very large gun and wags it at people trying to counter-act those zen like principles. It's funny like that.

In a very simple phrase, it boils down to this: Don't step on my happy.

Those who know me best know I'm not a bouncy pouncey bundle of joy and snuggles. I didn't just pick the doctor archetype so people would call me by a title and I'd have gadgets to play with. No, I actually quite adore science, philosophy and the logical pursuits of worldly affairs. I keep up with politics, I look into sociology, I occasionally read psychology; I am familiar with the modern state of American psychology for my everyday exposure, and with aid of my international friends I'm able to see not everyone is like us.

Make no mistake, ignorance is bliss; the burden of intelligence is being more able to see exactly how things are. It's unpleasant. It's more unpleasant when I see the same bullshit trends sneak into my form of escapism, that being furry land.

For the most part, I engage in pleasant distractions to detour me from the daily hamster wheel of stupidity and drama that boils over the American melting-pot and lands squarely into the game. So I rope myself off with my playmates in private areas, or I submerge myself in sound, or lose myself in gaming distractions; anything to distance myself from the rabble. Occasionally, the distractions work so well that I'm not just hoping to ignore reality but I actually slip into this peculiar state called Happiness.

I know! It's shocking. With all the bullshit in Foxy's IC past and the various mutterances I've wretched over this blog, it would be easy and even fair to assume that I'm some miserable emo kid. But I do actually have happy days!

They are.. so special, the happy days. I'm sure the fuzzy hangers on that don't know any real OOC details are mostly there -because- of the happy days; the days where I'm totally on top of my game, earning my lesser known reputations of best descriptive blow job or most intricate BE scene (according to some people). It is, for how rare and splendid they are, a virtual vixen holiday. Line up people, the melon-breasted parade float just sauntered down the street! Party time!

Of course, not everyone 'syncs up', as it were. We all have our bad days, our sour moods. Then there are people just too stupid, blind or self absorbed to notice or care that someone else is having a GOOD day. Believe me, I've been in that boat; I've missed a few times where my friends have had rose colored glasses, but I'm usually considerate enough to acknowledge that happiness is rare and they should enjoy themselves even if I can't enjoy it with them. But when someone goes ahead and wields the bastard sword of inconsiderateness, swinging their drama and emo at my happy day? Ooooh ho ho. I do NOT stand for that shit. The very fastest way for me to never want to talk to you again, is trying to shoot down my happy.

My best outbursts in fur-land are typically related to someone stepping on the happy. I know a certain bunny who greeted by playfulness with an angsty tantrum. She got cut from my life faster than Zorro could pull his shit out. The first time a certain purple vixen stepped on my buzz, she fell down the relationship ladder so fast she didn't know what the fuck hit her. And the recent second coming of such a mistake from the same person has prompted me to cut the line completely.

It's really very simple people. And this is advice to everyone.

Happiness is rare.

If some dumb cunt or otherwise is accidentally stepping on your happy... Tell them to kindly take a hike. If some unrelenting asshole is deliberately trying to curb your good cheer? It's time to take that dog behind the barn and off the fucker. No amount of family or friends is worth letting some sour idiot rob your happiness from you.

A life not enjoyed is hardly worth living. Don't put up with cancerous relationships.

Yesterday I kicked aside a cancerous community. Don't worry, it wasn't fur! Ha. Little joke there. But seriously, I may be returning to the land of fuzz before too long now that some of the stress is off my back.

Also, Iron Man; best movie of the year so far. Makes me want to pick up computer graphics design more than any inspiration in recent history. Worth your nine dollahs.

Oh hai.

I just beat GTAIV's story mode.

Now for that 100% ...

Just a minor update to anyone that follows the foxy.

I like macro/hyper. The idea of a twelve foot tall beanbag chair breasted vixen is actually quite appealing to me, when executed well.

The problem of late is that last little tidbit at the end there. The good execution.

There are definitely phases of noob latching. Back when I role played in Rhydin, the big noob draw went from slavery to video game knock offs to vampires. What is 'noob latching', you might ask? It's the odd phenomena that people with little literary talent attach themselves to a 'theme' in order to fit in better with a culture they really aren't meshing with that well.

When I was first on FM, the noob draw was foxes. Which was unfortunate for me because that's what I prefer to play. It graduated to bunnies and furs with wings for no reason by the time I left there.

On taps, the herm haven is a bit less populated so it takes a while to decide what the draw is given the low headcount. Bumbling males are a given, and you'll usually see some new prick trying in vain to buy some herms a drink before a new girl with the same mannerisms shows up the next week. Furs with wings for no reason was a minor infatuation, but what really took off for a while there was the bizzaro land body mods. Tentacles, extra limbs, ovaposition at will no matter your species. Kitsunes also had a brief layover in noob latch land.

The funny thing about these swing trends is that art tends to follow them. Knowing my love of sweeping generalizations, forgive me when I say "the people who commision most are personality deprived cutouts who are popular because of their artwork". Most artists have redeeming personalities and I assume that their friends do as well for being drawn often for free, but the pay to play whores are... exactly that.

Between the haven and the art flow lately, I think it's pretty safe to say that the macro/hyper field has been saturated by noobs recently. And what's why I'm bored. It's also why I'm not around as much as usual.

It's dual effect. Not only can I count on people who are lower quality players masquerading around in my fetish of choice, pissing me off with their quasi-ooc comments and general ineffectual bumbling; but it gives my character less to do. Foxy is a body doctor. Her big gimmick was the ability to take modest little furs who dreamed of being big, and making it happen; and enjoying the results. The downside of this is that most customers are satisfied and done after one to three visits. Normally, that's okay; because new patients are in ample supply. But the tide of noobs that come wobbling out of the gates with three foot bustlines sort of negates that. Not only are the day one players improbably large and in no need of Foxy's services, but the old hat players are driven off by the inexperienced or fall into step with their own continuity free magic morphing alts which need no doctor assistance.

This is sort of like the Endgame in World of Warcraft. Everyone already has the uber decked out armor, so the guild smithy is out of work. And unless you're spending hours in dungeons every night getting the latest and greatest little trinkets and reputation; there's no point in trying to compete.

So now, I'm bored. I have little to do with Foxy, as everyone is caught up in out-cleavaging each other. And I really haven't been faving or keeping art I see here in FA because the predominance of the status quo. Oh look, another no name character drawn with enormous tits, tiny outfit and zero backstory. Wonderful. I'll file that away with the hundreds of other nameless cutout bitches that exist for no purpose other than masturbation. Or I'll just close the window and go on to something more interesting because I've already seen that archetype a few thousand times in the past eight years.

These are the reasons I drift further and further away from furry, RP and Art.

Oh Hai. You've unwittingly clicked Foxy's stream of semi-consciousness. Pull up a chair, grab a drink, learn a little more about mah questionable state of mind.

So it's been roughly 20 hours since I've slept, which is hardly the worst I've ever done but certainly the most I've done in recent memory; and two days past birthday I certainly seem to feel the lack of sleep the older I get, even though people say only teenagers and narcoleptics sleep 10 hours a day.

This isn't a real stream of consciousness mind you, there's grammar and spell checks to some extend that one can muster right clicking the auto-suggesting corrections as nasty red underlines occur. I imagine the real deal is filled with wrong keystrokes and alfnerbing delete delete fuck shit no lets keep going its artistic that way.

Perfectionism aside, I won't let myself be 100% honest and open and right on the edge because the edge is both a lonely and a dangerous place. I'm known for verbally punching people in the face, and let's all be thankful I at least have the decency to wear a glove. Without it, it'd hurt quite a bit more. For both of us probably. A well worn face will get you a job in radio, but broken hands take away my voice; so I'll keep my demons safely in the giant closet crushing my soul.

It's not just about brutality, it's not simply about citing humanity's glaring flaws or how people I know and conduct regular relations with have aspects of her person which occasionally causes bile and/or tears to rise from me. I tolerate human failure because, by golly, I'm at least mostly human and bound by the same fleshy disease you are.

The exact percentile of my humanity is one of those touchy subjects, one of those details we dare not speak in proper clarification and disclosure. You must have security level 4 to pass, and even family is stuck comfortably at level 2. It is a micro-filament concerning my sanity; questionable as any other man's and yet so very well articulated and scrutinized under the magnifying glass of a philosopher and the documentation of a poet. Rest assured, I am an eloquent deconstructor of my being; a surgeon which doest pluck the individual fibers of each necessary piece of this walking conflagration.

I frankly miss the days of sanitariums and large mental hospitals which assured me men in white coats and padded cells had my best interests in mind. These new fangled institutions buried in trees and with dressed down doctors aren't for removing the mad from society, they are a quiet resort for the disturbed who must pay their own way for peace of mind. In the good old days, I would have walked up to the admissions desk; confessed a handful of my worries and have been politely carted off in a wheel chair for the very good of the public, no cost to me. Instead, I and countless others doubting their sense of reality are submitted to a bookstore full of self-help as if we were changing light fixtures. I'm very sorry modern psychiatry, my socket is not the voltage you have implied in your paperback manual.

Some of these thoughts are illegal, perhaps immoral, perhaps treasonous. I want change. I've wanted it badly enough to consider the means it would take me to become a politician, to consider the eventuality of becoming a president. Unlike the pork-barrel fed lot who largely preside over the American populace today, I do not seek a 'career in politics'; I do not see it as a family tradition, nor something to do with a law school degree, nor a means to wealth, fame and power. What I see is a cancer, a plague upon a once fertile land. I see people who have been tricked and coerced into believing one of two things, possibly both. A, their action won't matter because they are but one person fighting against the insurmountable force of apathy/inaction from their fellow peers. And B, the system is so horrifically broken/corrupt/uncaring that any form of significant protest from the public level will be ignored.

Perhaps I've watched V for Vendetta too many times (twice), perhaps I've taken the concept of evolution too far to heart, perhaps I expect far too much out of my fellow americans; but I was under the premise that in a nation by the people and for the people, we made the rules. If we cannot trust our government, we change it. If we do not like our government, we change it. If our government will not listen to use, we change it. And while letter writing and ballot day are fine methods indeed, we ultimately outnumber them. The basis of civilization is that people living together in a society do so under common law; and no matter what the governing power says, an armed revolt is always allowed under common law. It is the power to dethrone ruling classes we dislike that has allowed humanity to come as far as it has, it predates writing and language itself. Even animals understand it. If the leader is an assbag, he's gotten rid of and someone else steps in. If the new person repeats the same mistakes, he's gotten rid of and the cycle continues until we've gotten someone tolerable.

But you know, I don't think that the letter writing has been exhausted. I've not met anyone under thirty who's ever taken pen to paper and written all their local government representatives. An email to a senator doesn't count. The public's electronic presence to politicians is the same as spam; we're abundant and we're noisy and we're talking to people who may sit at a desk all day but they can very likely barely work the big picture machine which holds all the nerds and pedophiles behind its wires. I was restless, stomach turning and mind racing on the 20th. I had just gotten into a heated debate with someone sick of the current administration but whom had never so much as written a letter to anyone in power. They had gone to a rally.. and while wandering around with signs and getting cars to honk is one thing; no one remembers so much as honking by the time they get home. Rallies and signs are there to make you feel like you might care, but they change nothing. Letters may change nothing, but at least they damn well get in the building of the person they're trying to reach.

As I thought and tossed and turned in bed that evening, I thought to myself... all I want for my birthday is for everyone I know to sit down and write a letter. A single heart felt letter about the state of the nation, and send it t their congressman. I know that people have busy lives.. I'm sure the majority of my circle of friends and my wider fallout zone of associates spend whole weeks thinking of nothing outside of work, entertainment and the pursuit of food and/or sex. But if you've never really considered what your country is -DOING-, then do you have any right to call yourself a citizen? I know not all who read this live in America, but for those who do.. How can you not weep? How can you not ache? Five years, four thousand US soldiers, tens of thousands of native people, over three trillion dollars. Couldn't it have been better spent? Why is it still happening? No one has taken and stand to point out that this government has taken a giant steaming shit on everything lost on 9/11. Of course the terrorists won. They managed to provoke a mismanaged giant into spilling thousands -more- lives and unfathomable funding which could have gone to improve every aspect of our infrastructure. Hospitals, schools, energy solutions.. we lost the war.

And no one can be bothered to write letters.

My lot in life has become part of what I hated most, the idea of following the pattern. Though every day I play out obscene deviations of the modern man-child, the course is the same. College, leading to a white collar job; with the only purpose being to earn enough for a suburban home, an average wife, some average kids, an average car, an average pet, and take some average vacations.Between evenings of being the boy-girl-herm, watching anime, role playing impossible things and playing video games well past the ages which society deems them appropriate; grades are fueled by the ambition of mild success and the American dream of one wife, two stories and a garage, 2.5 kids and 3 pets.

I dislike it. I wish I could die sooner.

But no, no. That's where the -other- bits of insanity come in, the teetering psychosis; the part where one asks where objective reality ends and perceived reality begins. If certain persons perceive reality differently from everyone else, is it a shared hallucination or an uncommon part of the common picture? Erring on the caution of what is real and what is fake, at least by Dr. Phil standards... A dream once told me it's not my time. And despite trying to the contrary, that dream certainly seems to be true.

Like all people with a tenuous grasp on reality, I do try to avoid walking too close to that side of the room. One potentiality is falling into literal madness, the sort that people shake their head and recount as being 'a shame' when mentioned in good company. There is also a slight chance, in an infinite universe where all things are possible; that this peculiar stumbling block leads to things far greater than mankind has ever imagined.

Both considerations scare the blood hell out of me. So, I sit on the safe side of the street.. occasionally watching the puppet show on the other avenue.

Mind you, all of this is irrelevant.

Perhaps you've read the whole thing. I'd be proud if you did. Took me an hour of on and off distracted rambling to write it. You might even respond. We might have a bit of banter in replies. That'd be swell. I'd get the impression someone had read it, if you did that. But in two weeks or so, maybe three.. chances are you'll not have spoken to me live about it. And if you have.. nothing is likely to come of it. You've already made all your judgment calls here.. the mind doesn't like to sit on choices very long, and if you haven't caught up to me within hours of digesting all this; it'll be filed away with a reasonable deduction or a resigned uncertainty, neither of which will warrant enough nagging anxiety to question me a week later.

That's it. Goo's run dry. I'm going to bed.

Oh yes, one more thing. Even though TMI said my birthday explicitly, no one here or on mucks wished me a happy without further reminding. Hmph.

Here's your foxy tidbit for the week of March 17th, 2008.

I had extensive dental surgery last week... and lived! Mah new teef make me talk funneh, but once the swelling goes down and the stitches are removed.. everything should be fine again.

Saturday, the 22nd, is mah birthday. Since no one ever does anything for birthdays past the age of 21, I'm co-hosting a lan party that day.

Super hung subs are hard to find. At least in the RP circles I frequent. There seems to be a size-queen threshold of sorts; once a herm/shemale passes sixteen inches or so, the almighty power of the penis takes hold and any previous weak/meek/shy impulses are overridden by a throbbing sense of self esteem. Not that I mind this trend, but personally.. I'd like to have a cuddley thing with a python rather than another bitch stepping up to rule me. A little balance to the force, plz.

Lastly... fuck kitsunes. This sort of ties in with my general dislike of mythical creatures and directly opposes my free points for vixens. What a difference a few tails make, eh? But that's the point... Kitsune legend attributed those tails to magic power. Kitsunes are -supposed- to be demons, tricksters. Only occasionally merciful in a long line of leading travelers astray/to their doom. Much like other demons, these are not the sort of people you'd wanna have drinks with, not the type you'd take to your bed.

I know that the fantasy fandom has become enamored with demons because they have 'fun' body parts like tenticles and extra limbs, but they're supposed to be merciless soul sucking killers. How many sexy sharks and spiders do you see wandering about? Not many. Y'know why? Dying mid-coitus isn't terribly sexy. The problem is, people playing demons really don't play them very evil. Same with kitsunes. You've got all these extra body features, magic powers and whatnot... and it's not being put to use. You, the players, have effective raped the myths of all their meaning and significance by taking something you thought would be hot and sticking a trait on the contextually wrong role.

I really have very little respect for players who cannot seem to play the species they've made their character in. Mythologically? Unicorns are supposed to be aloof. Dragons are supposed to be proud and territorial. Neither are supposed to be having mixed species orgies. I know, unheard of, but acknowledge a little lore if you're gonna fucking make a character out of it. Similiarly, I like it when canine characters are simple, affectionate and loyal. I like it when feline characters are smug, graceful and glamorous. I like it when rodents are played quiet and nervous. Seriously, species fit into archetypes. Science says so. Stop cramming your personal bullshit into a fursuit because you think it looks cute.

I typically won't acknowledge a kitsune in play unless she (it's always a she, isn't it?) is trying to mislead someone. Because that's what kitsunes are supposed to do. Anything less is an overglorified vixen with a mutant condition. Take your extra tails and shove 'em up your ass.

Oh look. It's a 3am foxy mumble.

First, I suppose I'll say hi to all the people who decided to watch me following the big sexy pictures I finally uploaded. Nevermind that I'm not an artist or that my few journal posts are sulky/ranty railings against the fur community, people just hopped on the bandwagon.

So.. Hi.

Just as well, the picture cluster as seen is probably some of the last there's going to be. Foxy is winding down in a number of ways.

I've tried to give up the whole fandom thing before, and it didn't quite work. Mind you, deleting every account, removing all art and denying the existance of my former fursona did quite a lot to make things much better this time around without the baggage; but I've come to realize that the baggage is really two problems. Me, and fur.

Fur's problem is that it's a game. Those who treat it as a lifestyle are basically sitting in the otherkin camp, and I'm reasonably glad I don't deal with them. But for the rest of the folk, the sort that hang out in the cheap n' sleezy RP rooms that I have, it's just a game. And there's really only three kinds of players. The cutesy cuddley and often fuckable lap dogs, the ravenous smut dripping impulsive sluts, and the arrogant pretentious pricks who actually want the attention of one or both of the first two groups; but would never sully their reputation by doing so publicly. That, is how the game is played.

If you wander out of this spectrum, if you're serious yet not sexual, if you're cheerful but not cuddly, if you're smart but not using it to take advantage of someone.. you're politely excommunicated from the social circle, or viewed as a curiousity to be gently questioned and then left about your business. It's the life cycle of the game, and every time I wade into it I see people not conforming to the castes being neatly ignored. Myself included, when I don't feel predisposed to fitting a niche.

I find this in serious conflict with my real person. Escapism is lovely, but video games do it better. I've had cuddly relationships, I've had slutty relationships, and there's been arrogance tossed all around. I don't need the virtual versions, and when I might have the craving for such; I really don't need it to be fur covered.

Now here's where my problems enter in to it. I don't like to think of myself as petty, nor racist; but I do have a relatively good memory and I am cautious about trends in experience. In real life, this is often attatched to names. I've met five or six Mikes in my life time, worked along side them as coworkers, friends, classmates. And though I generally get along with them, I find out that in every case, Mikes tend to let me down. Unfulfilled promises, misinformation, outright lies. Mind you, everyone tends to lie and I accept that; but in the case of Mikes, every Mike I've known has somehow betrayed my trust directly. So I'm cautious about Mikes. Can you blame me? The last one still owes me 300 bucks.

In fur terms, names are... trite with fantasy novel cliches. Kitty and Foxy are undoubtedly the most common reused fur names, a crime of which I'm also guilty. But because names aren't nearly as consistent as the number of Daves I've met IRL, I tend to single out species. It's half conscious, half not. When browsing the whospe, I will not even bother to look at some species which have a habit of burning me in the past. I find people tend to play species that align with their personality type, if it is a 'personal fur'; and some personalities... I'm better off without. Unfortunately, with years of playing under my belt.. the 'not so interested' list of species keeps getting longer. So I've become a 'speciesist', I don't even bother striking up conversation if I suspect someone is going to fall into that usual stereotype. This isn't saying I'll ignore people who talk to me, but I may not be as favorable as I am to other furs... or as I was three years ago.

Worse, there's no influx of new blood really. Fur social spots online grow stale, and somewhat quickly at that. You can count on seeing the same five or ten people at some given time during the week, while a handful of less regular but still recognizables trifle by for short periods and then the rest of the space is taken up by first timers and no namers who are crash testing yet another character in a bid to get more attention than the last one did. After a good few months, you have your handful of friends and handful of rivals; or flat out enemies, and the balance of that is only slightly skewed one week to the next by whatever short lived lap toy one group or the other has that particular day.

I really shouldn't bother getting jealous over who's fucking who this weekend; or who received, dare I say, "undeserved" gift art this month. It's tiresome, really. I know that the core of popularity in this community comes from either how well/often you draw, or how articulately you can express your knack for virtually polishing knobs (and how often, of course). And despite having been complimented on how well I can write a little novela about sucking cock, it's not something I can take away and be proud of. These aren't real friendships, they aren't trade skills. I'm neither going to put my favorite fuck on my cellphone address book nor am I going to cite them as a resume reference. I may be off on this, but it seems people making friends via furry use the game as a method of meeting and then branch out into things like video games, taste in music, opencanvas sessions and even meeting in real life. No healthy relationships bloom inside the world of fuzzy cleavage and ridiculous body proportions.

The list of reasons I don't show up very often on fur anymore is long, and only getting longer. After all, I can find similar cheap thrills on a human oriented muck; and I have. Without the people on my 'rather avoid' list, it's a fair bit nicer; but I realize the cuddle, fuck, and arrogance cliches are present there as well.

There's really so much to do -besides- fur. And with so many species and particular individuals spoiling my outlook, there's very little reason to hang around.

I do, for my favorite few. And perhaps the silly idealism that nothing stays bad forever. But my ignore list goes in rotations. I forgive, there's dialog, maybe even fun.. and then some jackass winds up on the list again. I'd really rather just keep it empty, but the.. unbridled vitriol that spews from a choice few people. There's really very little respect going on. I mean, we all have bad days, personality conflicts, personal issues.. but the best way to deal with someone you don't get along with is to politely point out 'this isn't going to work, and may never'. And be done. There's a rather large pot of people who I may've forgiven, but I have little to no respect for because of how utterly rude they were and with how little maturity they handled themselves with.

I wish everyone well. Suffering is pointless, wishing it on anyone even more so.

I'm hardly leaving the land of fur, but I am essentially retired. I just can't find the will to invest much of any time in it anymore.

The word of the day is cowardice.

Perhaps one of the single biggest problem in not just fur, but all online role play is the prevalence of the immature and the unstable who cannot handle differences. Unfamiliarity, disagreements, conflict. It happens in role play because it happens in real life. The unfortunate thing is that many people in real life lack the skill or the fucking balls to handle differences when they occur. This may be the single greatest cause for escapism that humanity has.

But I digress. Let's look at issue.

In the real world, if someone gets mud on your shoes you do one of four things. Blow it out of fucking proportion and cause a conflict, get butt hurt and overly defensive over the small and possibly unintended happening, repress the issue and add it to a pile of minor problems for later explosion or rationalize what's occurred and get the fuck over it.

Optimistically, I'd like to think that the majority of people are mature (they're not), well adjusted (ha!) intelligent (oh god..) individuals who can process and work through conflict. Our critically overfilled prisons and the prevalence of frivolous lawsuits says otherwise.

In a virtual environment, anonymity and the concept of mechanical placebos has shifted maturity and courage to a strange masked illusionist that appears so rarely and briefly that we typically fail to recognize what it is.

The fact is that 'ignore' and 'ban' functions are a knee jerk, coward's response to a conflict that the person in question is too weak/spineless/immature to hash out in a reasonable arena. Now I'm sure the immediate response to a comment like that is "Oh foxy, who banned you this time?" but let's save that for a moment and consider what's just been said. Truly, take a step back and contemplate.

The anonymity of the internet allows people to go ape shit nuts and blow conflicts out of proportion with much greater ease than real life. The concept of 'victimless crimes' online enables people to do virtual hit and runs on people's emotions, home pages or character in general. I frequent /b/, I understand the concept of Anonymous. The prime reason we are monsters is because we're faceless monsters. If you had to answer to your mother after calling someone a cock-gargling weasel fucking fag douche; you probably wouldn't do it.

The problem is that virtually no one has the feeling of responsibility or maturity to stop the children's temper tantrum and lay out it for them. How many times have you seen a forum moderator say "Hey, you're being a prick and offending many people here. Please knock it the hell off or go find somewhere that suits you better". I've never seen it happen. I'm pretty much lead to believe it doesn't happen. The so-called managers of virtual establishments don't actually manage anything. Whenever conflict occurs, they pull out a button and magically poof the offender. In reality, we're deporting people for being disagreeable without so much as a trial. In terms of justice, there is none. In terms of maturity, it's holding your fingers in your ears and going 'NAH NAH NAH NAH'.

I'd like to take a moment here to say something important. I've used the same AIM handle for Foxy for .. maybe six years now. Do you know how many people are in my ignore list? Zero. That's right. I don't have anyone 'blocked' from contacting me. When I part ways from my contacts it happens one of two ways.. we disolve over time because we don't share similiar goals any more, or we have it out in a finalizing bit of closure. The closure may have a few fuck yous thrown around, but it doesn't result in a ban list. Not on my side at least. Frankly, ego on a soap box, I'm better than that. If we disagree and you're still mad a month later, rant and rave and cloud up my IM box. It's healthy for you. If you figure out there was a mistake and want to talk about it or apologize.. go for it. I'm not going to deny anyone the right to free speech in my presence. (Mind you, I might delete harassing comments from lingering around a blog; but that's graffiti more than speech)

When I was temp banned from the haven for, realistically, calling someone's bullshit; DragonFire didn't care what I had to say in my defense. We had a non-conversation about it. I expect about as much from starbucks corporate stance, but not so much the haven where I was once a staple figure. The ban went away when it was scheduled to, I didn't make trouble for anyone else because it was all over one dipshit anyway, and I lost a little respect for DF by running her house like a texas courtroom. I don't harass the subject of the original problem, nor do I give any shit to DF; cause realistically.. I'm over it. There was a justice deficiency, but big deal. I still go there when I want to go there and I still talk to whom I want to. While I hold certain persons in worse light for it, I didn't ban them from ever talking to me again like some emo twat who can't handle diplomacy.

Cowards are the cancer that is killing fur, and all role play realistically. Hey, sign off if you're emotional. Come back to a conversation later if you have to. Fuck, tell a person you can't handle them anymore and let them deal with that fact... but these dramatic, tear stained tales (and tails) about people shutting other people out with permanent communication bans is nonsense. And it applies to real life too. You know what I think a restraining order represents? Two fucking children who can't communicate. I have no respect for either person.

Maybe, just maybe, this little rant will get some people to clear thier block list. And you know what? That's the first step to become a more mature individual.

Deal with your problems.

It's kind of funny that immediately after I begin to lose interest in furry that what is very likely the two best pictures of Foxy to date are completed by Karno; both of which I'll post under this name shortly enough.

The bitter truth is that 'the game' doesn't interest me as much as it once did. Lurking about the haven, seeing who might need or want an appointment with the good doctor, seducing them into a neat little corner and hoping they'll give repeat business.

Having posted the last chapter of Foxy's origin story over on the IC LJ account and gotten zero feedback, I'm content not to write any more of her backstory for now. In the mean time, I would like to inject a little bit of OOC commentary.

The Golden Compass is perhaps one of the best melding of CGI and live acting ever, only so slightly nudging past lord of the rings in terms of realistic interaction. It's a lark for furry fans with the talking animals and whatnot, but much more importantly is the subtle message which lurks inside the epicenter of the story. All this talk about dust.

It really, really got the hairs on my arms standing on end for how close it hit to home; and so long as I can remain inspired for a good amount of time, I may resume writing on my non-fur story inclined to such things.

I highly recommend the film, even if it did one of the most dangling 'to be continued' endings in recent memory. Very enjoyable.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IdPI.....E0Zdo&NR=1

Proof that foxes are cuter than just about anything when playful

Can I be honest here?

I'm not burning any bridges. If you 'know me' (see fucked/sucked/been altered by the doctor), then you're in no danger of falling into the following rant.

_____ is the cancer that is killing fur.

See? I didn't even name names. I have in the past, mind you. And I still feel that way. Any time I see a quote "art whore" unquote being paraded about FA or (to a much lesser extent) DeviantArt, it really pangs a nerve. I'm not mad, per say. There's no one to be mad at. It sort of cascades. If I get mad at the fur being drawn, then I'm also a little mad at the artist. I'm mad at the community for commenting a bunch of big eye smiley faces and cheers of moar because another empty face got cleavage exposure.

The fact of the matter is.. people like tits. people like cock. It doesn't even matter who either bit is attatched to. These art whores that are overdrawn and senselessly popular? No other redeeming qualities. Next to no one has ever played with them, and those who claim to have have rather discriminating reviews. End result.. no one really understands why they're popular, except for the obvious. Tits and Ass.

And goodness knows that's part of the cancer killing fur. Does this special interest group even have authors? I know it does somewhere. But they are so vastly removed from everything else, it's almost difficult to group them together. What is really the point of text based role play if everyone is just jerking off to pictures anyway? I mean, really?

I am so disappointed when people put together a paragraph description and then link to a picture. You know what that tells me? You suck. You're terrible. Given the nigh infinite amount of time there is in the world, any waking hour that you're at your computer to play this silly game, the BEST you could come up with for first impressions was five lines or less. You don't even have to say a word, I know automatically that if you're too lazy to type up a decent character description then chances are you don't have a home area that's descriptive at all. Chances are, you have either a handful of morphs that contort you into different flavors of nude, dripping, sparsely detailed fuck widgets; or you have no morphs at all and summarize foreplay as "gets naked". Anything I do with you is going to be a half-literate stumbling through your heated fantasy between long pauses of slow typing, regurgitated adjectives and a vocabulary easily disassembled by a Brooklyn fifth grader. Monosyllables, slang and profanity.

And it's disgusting that these people get by. That they become -well known-. Oh, you can always count on ______ for a good time. What job, or lack there of, must a person have in order to be constantly geared for fucking? Is anyone else remotely aware and/or bewildered by how shallow these people are? These characters have no back story, they often times don't even have complete living spaces; just a bedroom to knock boots in, if that.

Seriously. People. Furs. If you want tits and ass, there is an entire internet full of porn out there. Virtually nameless pretty faces that bend, contort and jostle in plenty of creative ways. Stills, motion, audio. Everything the mushes/mucks really truly lack. And best of all, you don't have to remember their names or care about their back story. That tends to be the standard with smiling nineteen year olds wearing sperm like a Christmas tree wears tinsel, they don't need a reason to be there.. they're just young and horny. So why drag that pathetic aspect of real life into the fur world? Why even bother making empty husks of gyrating nothing for the half baked imagination slag of a poorly written sex story?

This is why I haven't been around Taps much since I brought Foxy back. Sure, I came back to a few friends and a handful of quality.. but there is next to zero new talent wading about in the public areas. It's just full of the same dime a dozen sluts that have been modeled upon the empty popular faces. Huge breasts, porn style smile.. and then what? If I want to corral those huge tits into an ongoing storyline, what does sunny bimbette have to offer me? Nothing. I truly am better off playing with myself in such cases.

I recently recreated Foxy on a new muck, a *gasp* human based muck. And you know what? People actually came to -me- with ideas they wanted done to their character. Instead of the happy bouncy slutty idiots that want me to 'surprise' them on Taps, I found characters with personality and intentions elsewhere! I have to say.. it's goddamn traumatizing. Here I thought no one was a decent story teller anymore; but it just turns out... it's furry. Or so it seems to be.

So.. yes. Rant done now.

If you don't see much of me on Taps, it's because I'm having more fun elsewhere.

But again.. I like my friends. Rare as we are to connect at the same times, my watchfor list is mostly full with those I enjoy consorting with on a regular basis. I'm just saying... I'm starved for -writing- talent. We've got some awesome artists around, but holy fuck do we need more writers. And in turn, better role players.

Chances are, half the famous faces you recognize in furry art either couldn't RP their way out of a paper bag, or have never RPed at all. Stop idolizing things that have accomplished nothing.

2.7 hours after first firing it up (according to steam stats), I have beaten Portal's main story mode.

The advanced maps n' time challenge are next!

Some of you may have noticed that all the previous entries on this journal have vanished, and for a few weeks the placeholder in this journal was a single enigmatic post having to do with pressing a button. What was that button? A reset button! As you can see, all journal entries were wiped. But that's not all.

If you visit Foxy on Expandoria or Tapestries mucks, you'll find every room of her house has been altered if not entirely changed. Additionally, many of her morphs have been scrapped outright and her default form changed about. What does all this mean?

A few weeks ago there was a drama snafu. Certain persons became quite irritated at me for voicing my distaste with other people's public displays. Rather than address me directly and resolve the conflict, things escalated the way internet arguments to and pretty much all parties involved (myself included) childishly hit the ignore button while making smoke signals to people with power. The end result of this drama bomb was the distinct impression that I had fewer allies and friends than I thought I had; and that Doctor Foxy was no longer as fun to play as she once was. Briefly, I considered scrapping the character entirely and resigning my furry participation to admiring the contributions on FA and DA.

There we things about furry involvement which took away from the fun of roleplay, and as role play is -supposed- to be a game (and games are supposed to be fun), I felt like walking away from what was no longer fun. Lots of things contribute to this. Mostly emotional nonsense. Jealousy, envy, greed and the more hollow side of lust.

A few weeks off helped. More so, the people who actually made effort to stay in touch was a nice reminder that I did have -some- friends; even if it didn't total out to the number in my watchfor lists. I had time to redesign foxy, her house and flesh out her backstory without completely destroying the character. What this means is a few important things.

* First, I'm back. Still contending with college hours, but I will now appear on the watchfor list instead of being hidden.

* Second, the labcoat has been hung up. As it was pointed out to me by friends during the hiatus, there's not much fun in loitering about waiting for new patients. Foxy has relatively few friends because she's professional before personal. So from now on, 'Doctor' Foxy Trinity will not be wearing the title on her sleeve; nor will she be wearing a lab coat much. The lab will stick around and I'll still be doing medical/modification scenes, but not to the exclusivity I used to.

*Third, the division of journals. LiveJournal from this point on will be reserved for IC posting and backstory. FA will be where I post OOC notes. Just so everyone is clear, it's DrFoxyTrinity on LJ, and FoxyTrinity on furaffinity.

And that's really all there is to say about that. See you around the mucks.