2 - Muck Talk

Okay, I'm having a problem here; I was on the muck and I was just there - I
was just there and hanging out and talking and being in the Zen of being a
featherduster and now suddenly here's someone looks at you, you know how
when they look at you, it's like... And it never says who it really is
anymore - they're looking at you but they don't want you to know that they'
re looking at you. So... it's like, "The Furry Czar of Yiff just looked at
you", you know; "The Vixen of Eternal Lactation just looked you", so...

You know, I'm getting fairly terrified there and you don't wanna look back
at them. You can't look back at them, because then that would mean that you'
re interested. Somehow that means that you're getting all hot over there so
I don't want to encourage the Vixen of Eternal Lactation, you know. I don't..
. I DON'T. So I just sit there quietly and pretend that I just don't see it
and now the Vixen of Eternal Lactation is smelling me and now she's looking
at me again and now she's winking at the gryphon and I'm "Mm-hmmh, I don't
see it, I'm off on my own, I'm not here". She's burning holes in the side of
my head, looking at me, she's filling all my screen with "The Vixen of
Eternal Lactation just looked at you" and I'm just sitting here wondering if
I can hook up a couple of cowmilkers to her and feed Africa here you know,
cause.. she's just standing here, apparently oozing, standing in a puddle of
her own milk up to her ankles, cascading waterfalls of milk from these
things, and I know what's coming, okay, it's only a matter of time - and
then, it happens.

"Bust_Vixen whispers to you, 'hey i think u r yiffy & i want u b naughty on
me". Oh yeah, yeah, you just hit on my biggest fucking fantasy there. I
dream at night of plunging my hot, throbbing gryphon-meat into a quivering
pile of illiterate rotten MILK STINK, yeah. Okay, guess what. You know what?
Get the fuck away from me. Okay? I'm NOT going to yiff you. If there was a
cure for cancer, if there was a map to Blackbeard's treasure somewhere up
your snatch, I still wouldn't yiff you. Okay? I wouldn't touch your boobs to
squirt milk on a burning manatee, all right?

So pack up the portable highlands substation and go the fuck away. You're
making a statement here, is that it? Yeah, writing is the basis of
everything we do on the muck but FUCK that, you're gonna type gibberish.
You' re going to be an individual. You're going to be unique and talk in
underwater mandarin pig latin and I'm.. what? What am I supposed to do? "Oh
wow! How bold! How profound!" That's what I'm supposed to think? Sex between
two of you twinks would be, what? It'd be like an alphabet soup factory
exploding or something.

So, I'm supposed to get all hot over your complete refusal to talk to me in
any form of recognizable English and jump on you and fuck you like a cheetah
with epilepsy and a bag of crack, right? Or maybe I'm supposed to be
sympathetic, you know - take it easy, 'cos I've seen them get pissed when
someone brings it up - "Oh how dare you make fun of someone who can't write
very well, bla blah blahh". So I'm supposed to pretend that you're speaking
perfect English and go on and just not touch it, right? Well, fuck you, I'm
not going to.

And I'm sick of seeing other furs just smile and nod and treat you like that
poor special-ed kid teachers made everyone treat like a normal kid, OK? You
can type good enough to use a computer, get online and get through muck
commands, they you got no FUCKING EXCUSE. Unless you're 14 years old or
dyslexic then you've got no excuse. And if you're 14, I'm NOT GONNA YIFF YOU.
I mean, what would YOU do? Okay, you're in a bar and someone comes up and
says, "You got some perdy teats. Why don't we go screw?" You'd throw a drink
in his face, you know. You'd start flogging him with the nearest thing that
wasn't bolted down and I... I would too! I'd beat him so hard even his own
STINK wouldn't recognize him. But that's not even you! You're the same guy
in a redneck bar who's already drunk and has a golfball-sized hole in his
tongue! "[Unintelligible]".

So you know what?! I'm NOT GONNA YIFF YOU! What in the hell would ever make
you think I'd want to yiff YOU. Tell you what to do. Go buy a spelling book.
Go back to third grade - OK, whatever you have to do... LEARN. FUCKING.
ENGLISH. Is it just so uncool now to speak intelligently? Are you not cool
enough unless you talk like a lobotomized brat packer reject or what? What
is it? Are you so entirely "progressive" that you can just babble and
everyone's supposed to understand you? You sound like a munchin gargling
dinosaur spooge!

When you go learn English and come back and you can introduce yourself and
give me a decent handshake, then you know what - I'M STILL NOT GONNA YIFF
YOU! WHY? Because, unlike you, I don't wanna choke my very first
conversation with someone out from around their COCK! I wouldn't yiff
FUCKING HEMINGWAY in the first ten minutes, because I wouldn't even KNOW HIM!
I mean what the FUCK?! Was KNOWING someone before sucking on them such a bad
idea? Where did that idea GO? What happened to it? Who the fuck overruled
that idea?! You know, when was the vote cast? You know, "No more knowing
anybody before you have to screw them". What? What happened? I wouldn't even
share my soap with my roommate and I've known him for five years and here's
been what, five minutes now, and I'm supposed to be stuffing my cock into a
place I'd be afraid of losing a Mars probe!

Okay, whoopee for you, you wanna jump on everything that moves. Okay, fine!
If you WANNA look like a total freak, FINE. But there's the short, simple
version so you can understand it: if you ask me to yiff in the same
conversation you say hello to me for the first time, then I'm NOT GONNA YIFF
YOU! OKAY? SO DON'T EVEN TRY! Don't even start getting moist about it, OK?
It's not HAPPENING. Spend that time finding a cure for nymphomania, okay? Do
us all a favour.

This is 2, your old fashioned ranting gryphon, and that's all I have to say
about that.