So I've been remiss in my duties to bring out the weird. I've been living hard in my own little fringe of the world, which I'll probably resort to talking about eventually. But I didn't forget about you kiddies; I did some homework for you all and wandered deep into the parts of the world a lot of people don't even want to imagine.
It started out with a simple question. How does a person come to the realization that they're a furry? This question has bothered me for a long time. See, here's my issue. With most fetishes and kinks... even if it's not my thing, I can figure out how it works. Hard core s&m stuff, not my kink. I like keeping my weapons and torture implements separate from my sex life, but hey... whatever gets you going. See... you get started with scratching and biting... then you get into spanking and maybe some ropes. I can see how that would lead to perhaps the riding crop, even the ball gag. I see a possible method of escalation. The furry thing... I don't have a damned clue. I don't understand how you suddenly realize how you figure out that's what you're into.
I have to go to bed in the real soon, so I'll cut to the beginning of the chase. I wandered into the deep reaches of the internet and started hunting. I started talking to strangers like my mother always told me not to do. I have chatted to a good number of furries, and will tell you all about what I've learned.
So for now, be safe and keep an eye out.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Return for a brief rant
Leno made me fucking old last night.
Now, yes, to begin: I am with Coco. No getting around that. But I decided to try it out: Leno's return is, after all, another piece of comedy history. The biggest blunder in TV late night gets reversed, only now Leno the Elder is leading into Fallon, who is NOT Conan (nor does he attempt to be, really). So I gave Leno the first episode.
At least I tried to, except the second his gray mane bobbed onto screen, I started falling asleep. Aside from the Betty White thing -- which I missed because I had already started dozing -- he started out with some half-hearted groaner about his show's lack of permanence, then launched into Lenoism. Aaaaand... PTFO.
I remember stirring during some thing about his desk, which I ignored. From the bits I could grab, he seems content to acknowledge his quick return and new, shaky status. But he's also eager to pretend nothing ever happened. This is at best a 9-month-plus set redesigning. It had an enormous budget, was behind schedule, and ruined NBC's late night in the process, but all they did was take Jay off the air to give him a new chair to sit on. But something did happen, and the stink hovers around the whole thing because of it.
Sure, Leno destroyed Letterman in the overnights. Big surprise. Dave wasted a big guest, from what I understand -- could have saved Bill Murray for Wednesday, then lead into him with another bigshot: Maybe even Andy Richter. History shows that Leno and Letterman trade ratings when their guests are monumentally controversial, and it is possible to keep the audience they steal. After over a decade of competition, Dave's crew knows this better than anyone, and they've had months to climb all over Jay's corpse. If they can do it quick, Leno's relative lameness could help the newer, slightly edgier Letterman lure back most of his viewer base pretty quickly. Even Kimmel got his exposure in, and now Conan's audience will follow wherever Conan goes (Especially to live shows. ESPECIALLY.)
My point is this: NBC gave up late night when they decided to tell Jay his time was limited. It used to be that the man with the ratings could name his own retirement date, but the age of Market Research and Demographics have opened up all kinds of new mistakes. Especially fun are the kind where you fuck something up years in advance.
Good luck, Jay, I won't be back. You put me to sleep for around 3 hours, then had me so sedated for the rest of the evening that I didn't even turn off the light in my bedroom until I woke back up at three in the morning. Whatever it is -- the timbre of your voice, the hypnotically soothing set colors you use, Kevin Eubanks' attempts at humor -- all it's doing is knocking me out before 11 pm. In a way, I became more like your audience base than I've ever been before. Only I can't blame the sleepiness on arthritis meds.
Now, yes, to begin: I am with Coco. No getting around that. But I decided to try it out: Leno's return is, after all, another piece of comedy history. The biggest blunder in TV late night gets reversed, only now Leno the Elder is leading into Fallon, who is NOT Conan (nor does he attempt to be, really). So I gave Leno the first episode.
At least I tried to, except the second his gray mane bobbed onto screen, I started falling asleep. Aside from the Betty White thing -- which I missed because I had already started dozing -- he started out with some half-hearted groaner about his show's lack of permanence, then launched into Lenoism. Aaaaand... PTFO.
I remember stirring during some thing about his desk, which I ignored. From the bits I could grab, he seems content to acknowledge his quick return and new, shaky status. But he's also eager to pretend nothing ever happened. This is at best a 9-month-plus set redesigning. It had an enormous budget, was behind schedule, and ruined NBC's late night in the process, but all they did was take Jay off the air to give him a new chair to sit on. But something did happen, and the stink hovers around the whole thing because of it.
Sure, Leno destroyed Letterman in the overnights. Big surprise. Dave wasted a big guest, from what I understand -- could have saved Bill Murray for Wednesday, then lead into him with another bigshot: Maybe even Andy Richter. History shows that Leno and Letterman trade ratings when their guests are monumentally controversial, and it is possible to keep the audience they steal. After over a decade of competition, Dave's crew knows this better than anyone, and they've had months to climb all over Jay's corpse. If they can do it quick, Leno's relative lameness could help the newer, slightly edgier Letterman lure back most of his viewer base pretty quickly. Even Kimmel got his exposure in, and now Conan's audience will follow wherever Conan goes (Especially to live shows. ESPECIALLY.)
My point is this: NBC gave up late night when they decided to tell Jay his time was limited. It used to be that the man with the ratings could name his own retirement date, but the age of Market Research and Demographics have opened up all kinds of new mistakes. Especially fun are the kind where you fuck something up years in advance.
Good luck, Jay, I won't be back. You put me to sleep for around 3 hours, then had me so sedated for the rest of the evening that I didn't even turn off the light in my bedroom until I woke back up at three in the morning. Whatever it is -- the timbre of your voice, the hypnotically soothing set colors you use, Kevin Eubanks' attempts at humor -- all it's doing is knocking me out before 11 pm. In a way, I became more like your audience base than I've ever been before. Only I can't blame the sleepiness on arthritis meds.
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