Obsessive much?

Today’s off topic rant is brought to you by kids who don’t shower and parents that want to get their kid in the AP so badly they will succumb to a publicity stunt.

Ok so you love your team. You love that one specific player. Let’s show your undying adoration for said player by wearing their jersey for 4 years solid! Dear the parent of this 12 year old kid, whiskey tango foxtrot? Seriously.

I was logging in to check my family email account when I saw this story. Horray for more traffic for that!

There’s a difference between a “Linus blanket” that wearing a fucking shirt for that long. It’s obsessive. It’s cult worthy. It’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s a scream for attention. I know I’m not the only one thinking it’s stupid. I’m just bitch enough to say it.

From a journalistic standpoint, and from a parent’s standpoint, it’s a bit disgusting in some ways. There’s a big difference between supporting your kids’ dependency on something that gives them comfort than letting them wear the same damn shirt for 4 years. The line is way back there. It screams publicity stunt. Hell even after a couple of years it’s in the same boat. The joke is only funny for so long. Then you just have to roll your eyes and be parent enough to say “um, no.”

Parental intervention seems to be either too much or not enough these days.

Wow I sound like a square now. I’m going to go look in the mirror just to make sure it’s my face looking back and not my mother’s. That whole thing about becoming your parents when you get older.. to some extent, it’s totally true. Scary. I need to go work out now or something.

Oh and the absolute worst part of this story is that of all teams.. of all players.. it had to have been a Brett Favre jersey. Eww Green Bay cheesers. Gag me.

There’s only one thing that can fully encompass the feeling I have about that… here goes:

Go Bears!

Selective Fetishist confessional

It’s actually quite ironic that I’d just recently taken some pictures with the word “fetish,”

fetishistwhen I got pinged asking about one particular peculiar one. I seem to attract a wide variety of freaks and geeks. It’s wonderful, and yet a headache at the same time.

Which of course, I tumblr’d that whole convo here:


Here’s the jist of last night’s/this morning’s /raise eyebrow event.

My friend Steve asked me my feelings on furries. Furries. Did I mention.. furries? If you don’t know about this fetish, let me enlighten you with a reading from the book of Urban Dictionary:

Furry-In the broadest definition, someone who finds the idea of anthropomorphic (humanlike) animals, in art, fiction, cartoons, costume, or other media, to be an appealing one. … Furries can range from people who enjoy portraying anthropomorphic animals in art; people who enjoy imagining what a future, past or alternative world might be like if humans were replaced with or accompanied by anthropomorphic animals; and people who like wearing costume tails, ears and/or animal mascot costumes, to those who feel spiritual connections to animals or to the animal form; and people who find the concept of anthropomorphic animals enjoyable in a sexual way. (Amongst many, many other things.)


I can deal with most things. In fact, most fetishes barely make me blink. I have to admit, it’s pretty hilarious when I hear about a friend who doesn’t know what 2girls1cup is. I’m the asshole that sends them there, and to lemonparty and tubgirl.

This is not the first time this has happened to me. I’ve been the confessional to a few closet fetishists. I’m a favorite among couples to invite into their bedrooms. I’ve been asked to cyber, and participate in text dom’ing. Hell, I’ve even considered dom’ing. I won’t though.

I would like to consider myself a bit of a fetishist. There’s a lot about the fetish world that appeals to me. A big portion of it is a turn on. (Great, now that I’ve said that I’m going to get even more spam!)

Heels. Cuffs. Voyeuristic tendancies. PDA. Rough___. 50s cliches. etc,etc.

I keep alot of the details to myself and between lovers. It’s honestly not everyone’s business. Much of it, is pretty obvious to those who pay attention. I censor myself selectively. Seems suiting that I’d be the same about my fetishes.

However, if you’re feeling particularly honest, I’ll be your confessional. Just please, erm, try to keep it clean? Well, and not terribly bizzare… or else I may have to blog about you.