I've got one of them codes for Bluesky. Does anybody want it? Comment below if so!

I did one of those one like for one kink things, and in an effort to not clutter up my Twitter feed, I'm gonna post the kinks here. If more likes are added, I'll add more kinks

1. Preds belching up belongings or bones of the prey after they're done digesting.

2. Semi-internal views in vore/stuffing. Cutaways with the outside of the stomach intestines all bulgy and stretched and actively churning away at whatever's inside.

3. Big guys taking a leak. Not necessarily onto anything/anyone. Just a big guy taking a piss.

4. Furs stuffing themselves to or sometimes past the point of nausea.

5. Big guys getting so bloated and gassy after stuffing/vore that they can't help but release release a some toots.

6. Dicks peeking out of the pants leg of shorts/underwear.

7. Scenarios where there's a top who's really pent up and horny, and probably a himbo, and a bottom who isn't really horny but loves the top, so they let the himbo rail them.

8. Cum inflation, then weight gain from being filled with so much cum.

9. Hard vore, but only if there's significant weight gain.

10. Furs laying on their back after a stuffing/vore so their belly gets all round and dome-like and pins them to the ground.

11. Fat taurs with a huge second feral belly that brushes against the ground and sways when they walk

I was originally going to write a long spiel about how Twitter and current events have taken me to some really dark places recently, but that's far too dramatic

This whole year has been garbage. The present is turbulent and the future is uncertain. School has been made an order of magnitude more stressful by the virus and highkey, I would like to get hit by a train

Still, I'm here, but I definitely need to take time away from Twitter. A significant amount of time. I've blocked it off of my phone and computer for a week just to calm down, but maybe longer than that. I doubt anybody there will notice my disappearance anyway. Ah well

So, first of all, for the past three years, I've made myself a birthday journal on here. I guess I forgot this year. Regardless, though, on July 10th, I turned 21. It's pretty chill. Nothing's really changed, but I can finally buy alcohol, so that's cool.

Anyway, on to the real topic of this journal: Twitter. Since maybe late 2018, I've made furry Twitter my new home on the Internet. It seems to be the most active and most interactive out of all the furry platforms I've been on so far. However, as you probably know, it's not a site made for furries, or furry content, so much as for everything. As such, whenever I'm scrolling through my timeline, I get a smattering of news content. Particularly, how everything is going terribly and how facism is running rampant, how the people in charge are asleep at the wheel, how tensions are at an all time high, etc. Now, it's important to stay informed, but when I view too much of this content, I tend to go into a tailspin of anxiety, anger, sadness, hopelessness. This is what I call the Doom Spiral. It sucks you in and leaves you spinning and feeling helpless and hopeless. In the very center of the Doom Spiral, you're left thinking "Things are constantly getting worse. Nothing will ever get better. I need to get out of here before things get even worse."

This is why I have to step away from Twitter , sometimes. Admittedly, the world, particularly America, looks really bad right now. The future is entirely up to speculation. I don't know how bad things will be next month, let alone next week. Logically, I can't rule out the notion that we're all fucked, no matter how hard I try. But, as anxious and pessimistic as I am, and as bad as things are, I can't let the Doom Spiral take me. I have to keep pushing forward, and keep the faith that things will improve. I just have to.

Well, that was it. I don't know why I'm posting this at 5 in the morning, but I hope that you out there are faring through this better than I am. Stay safe.

I haven't made a journal here in a while, so I figured I should.

Currently, I'm in the middle of my Junior Year of college and between the schoolwork and a load of other bullshit, I'm run pretty ragged.

Also, there's Twitter. Currently, I'm taking a little break from it. Twitter is great and all, but it can also be taxing. I get wrapped up in numbers and social stuff and comparisons and it can really wear me out. Especially when combined with school and shit. I'll probably be back on it in like a week or less, but y'know.

Speaking of Twitter, though, I have a shitton of art I've basically been sitting on that I probably need to post here. I'll probably do that, so expect an art dump or something in the coming days or whatever.

Well, as I'm sure you can guess, it's the 10th of July again, which means that it's my birthday. My teens are officially over, and I'm not really sure what to make of it. Really, I don't officially turn until later on today, but I've already gotten the standard "Happy Birthday" notifications from my social media and whatnot, so, it's whatever.

19 was a weird age. I made some strides, and I also fell on my face quite a bit. I made some mature decisions and some regrettable ones. That's how it goes, though, I guess. I really thought that once I got to 18, 19, 20 and so on, I'd magically figure all my shit out, but I suppose part of the process of growing up is figuring it out...and even then, sometimes you just never fully do.

I'm not sure what to put here. This probably sounds pretty r/im14andthisisdeep already, but I guess I'd like to say, to everyone that's stuck around, thanks. I hope you're getting what you came for.

Greetings and salutations fuzzy, feathery and scaly butts of the internet! As is the usual, it is way too late at night and an arbitrary amount of time since my last post, so it's

J O U R N A L T I M E !

(I'm mostly doing this so I have something more recent than that vent post ln my page.)

My sophomore year of college is over, my mood has stabilized, I'm back at my parent's house for the summer and I'm not quite sure what to do with my idle time. You'll probably see a slight increase of content until I get a job or something to occupy my time. If you like what you see, consider SMASHING THOSE LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE BUTTONS AND SLAM THAT NOTIFICATION BELL!!1! COMMENT DOWN BELOW WHAT YOUR FAVORITE PART OF THE VIDEO WAS, AND BE SURE TO FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER, INSTAGRAM, SNAPCHAT, FACEBOOK, TWITCH, PATREON, TUMBLR, DEVIANTART, ETSY, GOOGLE PLUS, MYSPACE, NEWGROUNDS, VIMEO...

In all seriousness, I'm doing okay now and back to being a regular old fat moose who eats folks

It's been a while since I last wrote one of these. I doubt anybody's listening, but I need somewhere to put my thoughts, so here goes.

A lot has happened in the last few months, most notably, my love life completely collapsing in a burning wreck. When I was in the thick of it, I felt many things: Anger, Frustration, Sadness, Ambivalence, Annoyance. Now that it's over, truly over. I don't feel much of those things anymore. The dominating emotion is a hefty dose of Loneliness, along with Hopelessness and Futility. As troublesome as that relationship was, I had somebody around, constantly, as a sounding board for my thoughts and feelings. Now, often times, I feel as if I'm screaming into the open air, hoping someone hears me. I have a good friend or two, but I fear that I test even their patience. I wonder if I've blown my only chance at love. Every time I try to socialize nowadays, it never goes anywhere. It fizzles into nothing. Maybe I'm just meant to be alone. I want to give up entirely and save myself the stress, but I need people. I won't last long like that.

If you happen to be reading this, you-know-who-you-are, you win. You wanted me to feel pain? You've got it. My body is cold and I feel as if I've got lead embedded in my chest. The knowledge that I've no partner and won't for a long time, if ever again weighs heavy on my mind, however thoroughly I try to distract myself. Our union was trying and wildly imperfect, and I felt relief at its termination, and yet still, its absence brings me to my knees every single goddamn lonesome night.

I hope things improve, someday. I hope all of those stinging platitudes about there being "other fish in the sea" turn out to have some merit behind them. I hope someday, to have someone around again.

So, since Tumblr decided to go chaste and hit the crapper, I decided to try and merge into the furry community on Twitter. It's been going alright so far, but that's not the point. My Twitter is here:

https://twitter.com/Moosemallow_TCM


If you happen to want to see my ramblings/other people's art I like/possible belly pics. If this entices you at all, see ya there!

Well, here we are, at the end of 2018. Every year, around this time, as the last sand grains run out, I can't help but feel...weird. A year is such a long period of time. Why does it feel so short when looked at in the rearview? It's weird...

My 2018 was a ride, as most years are. I had highs and lows, new experiences, new lessons, new goals, etc...but also a lot of strife in between. That seems to be a common theme. The strife.

I'm rambling, and because I'm tired, this probably makes no sense. But what that I do does? I pretend to be an obese talking moose on the internet for fun!

Regardless of what kind of talking animal you pretend to be on the internet, I hope your 2019 is filled with good stuff.

Thanks for watching and listening.

I appreciate you all.

Take care

This is basically just a way to get my birthday journal off of my page. It's been 2 and a half months.

Ahem.

College is a bunch of things. Weird, stressful and lonesome come to mind.
Coding seems a lot more intimadating than it is at ground level.
While Calc II seems a lot less intimidating than it actually is.

Anthro moose are precious and get automatic favorites from yours truly.
Other Cervines, Bovines and Equines are also precious.
Especially fat, dorky ones
And Dragons are weird.
Specifically chubby, blue, artist dragons, with glasses, named Eric, that probably don't read journals.

Typing FA Journals on your phone while waiting for class to start is weird
Typing FA Journals in general is weird.

Oh, and I'm gonna try to start posting art again.
Probably.
Maybe.
Uhhhhhhhh.

Alright, bye

Nineteen is a weird age. While 18 seems to come packed with a lot of significance, its slightly greater counterpart comes with nothing. No fanfare, no privileges. As far as I can tell, Age 19 is just Age 18 + 1 or Age 18, Part II. The only thing that seems remotely special about it is that it's a prime number and will be the only one until Age 23. I suppose it is also special that this is the last age that comes with the suffix -teen, but that didn't occur to me until just now.

Anyway, aside from that, I'm still around, passively fetishizing moose, doing the college thing, and so on and so forth. I'm trying to get into drawing again, but, lo and behold, drawing is still hard as balls. Ah well. The next year will probably be full of fun stuff. Maybe I'll even do something bonkers like go to a con or something. Iunno. Anyway, see you lot when I'm 20.

There's someone I've been thinking about recently. I considered them my best friend for almost a year, but we stopped talking and the connection fizzled out. I wouldn't consider us compatible. It was a wonder we only argued that one time. Maybe it's the duration or how they were my only source of companionship in a bad time that makes me so fond of them. At one time I would have even said I loved them, in a platonic sense. And yet, we haven't spoken in several months. I could hit them up, but what could I possibly say that wouldn't entail me having to start all over from scratch with small talk? We've diverged. They've gone on with my life and I should go on with mine, and let the memories I have with them fade away. I doubt they feel the same about those times anyway. My high regards for our supposed friendship always felt one-sided.

They're gone and they're likely not coming back. I suppose it's all part of a sad lesson I'm currently learning about life. People come and people go. Some leave quickly, some stay for a while, but nobody sticks around forever. The group of people that surrounds oneself is always changing, and I guess, sometimes it's just better to let people go.

Things are going well, here in college. A side effect of things going well, however, is that I don't feel the pull to return to my world of furry stuff and escapism as strongly. It's kind of bizarre. I spent most of high school getting knee deep into the fandom because my current situation was not ideal. Things have changed a little bit, and now the furriness is receding. I'm still here, though, and I still have an odd Affinity for Furs. I'm even trying to create a second fursona...You might see him later, if can ever decide how I want him to look.

I have (what I would call) an unconventional species character: a character of a species that is not too common in the furry fandom. Rather than a wolf, a fox, a dog of some sort, a combination of two or more of those three, a cat, a dragon or one or two other things, I have a moose. One of the things I've run into with having an unconventional species character, is having to assess whether someone I commission, or plan to commission, will be able to accurately depict my character's species. Practically nobody draws moose, compared to the ubiquity of canines in furry art, so when commissioning, I am limited in my choices. This is part of the reason why I have commissioned the same person 4 times (aside from the fact that her art is just adorable regardless.)

I don't mean to complain or anything, in fact, this is just something that crosses my mind a lot. I love my unconventional moose character, even if it can be a challenge to find someone to draw him.

If anyone out there is still listening/watching and is wondering why I've posted fuckall in the past couple of months, it's because I'm a college moose now, and I've been living the high life that I've always dreamed of. (That's a lie, things are only marginally less crappy than they were in high school.) Maybe I'll try drawing something soon, but I'm not sure.

I don't care if it takes me a million years. One of these days I'm going to get one of Sycamore Goat's Commission Slots. His art is amazing, and I want some of my precious moose man.

I think I might be going to Furry Weekend Atlanta 2018, I live, and will be going to college in the area, and attending a furry convention is kind of on my bucket list so...why not?


I'm jealous of people who can nail down one specific color scheme for their sona and be happy with it forever. I have changed Clayton about 10 times since I first drew him.

Today is my 18th birthday! Which means that I can finally (with the blessing of the law, and FA and all that good shit) look at furry smut.

As of 11-something AM EST on June 8th, 2017, I am officially a high school graduate.

Now, it's time to figure out what I'm gonna do with the rest of my life.

I try hard to the point of making myself hate this, and I don't get anywhere because of it, so, I think I'll just stop trying so hard.

Also, I think I might get another commission because the artist who did my last one is amazing, and I love...his/her/their art.

I could go into detail with this story, but that would include disclosing stalker-like behavior on my part, so I'll just summarize.

I applied for housing at my college over a month ago and I just found out I now have a roommate. The rhe housing Portal allows each applicant to type up a blurb about themselves to make better roommate matches, and the blurb that my roommate wrote included his Kik username. I looked this up and through a certain chain of events, I found his FurAffinity account.

To make a long story short: I got randomly assigned another gay furry as a roommate.

What are the odds?!

WARNING: This journal entry doesn't really contain anything of real importance. (Then again, none of them do. I'm not important, and neither are my thoughts.)
It's mostly rambling. Proceed at your own...time expense?...I'unno. *shrugs* (As if anyone was gonna read this in the first place.)

I don't really have anything important to say...I just figured since my last journal was posted three months ago, I should probably put something new up here...it couldn't hurt...unless I start drama...though I don't really have anything to start drama about.

I think I've gotten to a decent point with my 'art'. I don't actively hate everything I do anymore, and some people seem to like what I do as well. At the same time, I'm not completely satisfied with it. There are things I could improve on. My 'anatomy' is a mess of circles, lines and boxes, my lineart is unfocused and flawed, my shading is amateur at best. I don't think I'm terrible, but I don't think I'm very good either. If I had to give myself a grade, it would be a C. I suppose I'll have to keep practicing, and study the art of my idols to become stronger.

Things are a-changing in my real life as well. I'll be a high school graduate in June. It's exciting, and scary and kinda depressing...there are a lot of emotions attached to it all. Maybe that's normal, though, and most, if not all of my classmates are bundles of neuroticism as well, or maybe it's because I never thought I'd get this far. In elementary and middle school the idea of graduating in 2017 was so far off in the future that it wasn't even actively on my mind. In 9th to 11th grade I was in such bad spirits that I was sure it would all be over long before graduation. But now I'm here. I only have until June 8th. It's weird.


I think this just became a venting thing. I should stop now. And go to bed. It's 15 'til midnight. 11:45 PM or 23:45

Military time. I'm secretly fascinated with it. And Roman Numerals. I'm a dork.

And because of that, I'm almost certainly going to be alone for the rest of my life. Maybe I'll get a few dogs or something and they'll keep me company, while I continue to be a socially-inept hermit crab and draw furry art well into my 30's.

Okay, I should really stop now. I could probably go on with this for hours and hours, just typing every random thought that pops into my head. Anyone who reads this will think I'm a lunatic. Or have no life. They'd be right. I don't have a life.

Commissioning somebody because they draw better than you'll probably ever be able to, and then becoming discouraged because they drew your character better than you'll probably ever be able to. I don't know what I was expecting.

My last journal was me being overcome with discouragement, so I figured I'd write a new one I just looked and saw that I have 11 Watchers! I've hit double digits and it's pretty damn cool! Thank you all for watching and favoriting. I appreciate you all!

I am ashamed of my 'art'. It's garbage and everything I produce is garbage. I'm done doing 'art' for a while.