Soft toys are hardcore
It’s a whacky world out there and nowhere is this more so than with the Furries (and they’ve got nothing to do with children’s television)
NOW, for those who don’t go out a lot or for souls who reside in Pissouri (few I reckon), will be aware of the slow but steady worldwide popularity of a cult called the Furries.
This new interpretation of anthropomorphism basically involves members who are obviously barking mad in that they spend thousands of pounds having professional costumiers create for them bespoke animal costumes, which fully committed Furries will then don each day to go to work, to go shopping etc.
Less enthusiastic participants may choose to slip discreetly into their furry Winnie the Pooh, Bambi or less hirsute Babe suits only when in the privacy of their own home.
Couples even get married as Furries, with brides transformed into kangaroos and the groom presenting as a large blue fox, while behind the happy couple will stand a Great Dane with perhaps a coy looking pair of badgers as bridesmaids. Of course, the best man will more than likely be a giraffe or a brooding wildebeest. No doubt their grandchildren will be suitably non plussed when they flick through the (fake-fur-covered) family wedding album
I kid you not folks, out there, there are literally thousands of such furred up folk and they even have their own highly pictorial Furry websites.
Then, as in all cults, there’s a bit of a murky side to it all, with the development of a particularly kinky breakaway group called the Plushies. These are singularly strange folk who claim an unlimited enthusiasm and deep affection for innocent soft toys to the extent that they have sex with specially adapted cuddly examples and, horror upon horror they, also relish sex only with people who dress up as cuddly toys. More worryingly (if, in this context, that’s at all possible) there is a huge number of people who desperately wish to fulfil all their sexual desires by having it off with football mascots.
It should be emphasised that not all Furries are Plushies. And not all plushies get their kicks fornicating with strangers dressed as Lassie. But the odds are pretty high that they will get an immediate hormonal rush if exposed to the sight of a football mascot running around the sidelines clad in a garish Lion or Goat costume. Or, they might just swoon in ecstasy at the mere wing movement of Swansea’s Cyril the Swan, or what about Wolverhampton’s Wolfie The Wolf. Then there’s Oldham football club’s Chaddy the Owl, who wears a costume so frightening that even died-in-the-wool football yobs shy away from him.
Yes, believe it or not, these sports mascots who we only see as annoying exhibitionist nerds running amok in bad taste costumes, others (furries in particular) see as pure objects of desire.
Sadly, some furries have also been known to take on the full blown fursona of their chosen animal with no doubt regular incidents of after dark bone burying, to say nothing of the determined use of entirely inappropriate sniffing gestures upon being introduced to newly initiated Furries.
For those readers who may find the lure of tennis or the playing of bowls beginning to pall and would now like to venture down the road to becoming a fully-fledged Furry, be warned, you will have to display an inordinate amount of false enthusiasm when your chosen partner arrives to escort you to dinner wearing shoes the size of kipper boxes and dressed as a Mallard Duck.
If that’s your bag, then just click on to the web and marvel at the invitations that are currently on offer from such like minded folk – there’s everything from an international conference to be held in Hokkaido (the Japanese are very big on Furries) to spending a weekend at special Fur Le Dance weekends.
