This weekend, my crazy friend Lance was holding forth about something at our party, and he told me that in his extensive Xtube viewing, he'd come upon a new fetish that we didn't know about. I, of course, was all "Bitch please. I know about a lot of fetishes. I'm a sexpert." And he was all, "Yeah? Well, do you know about furries?"
And I'm all, "Dude. Use the Greek. They're called 'Erinyes.'" And then, of course, I started to quote Homer. In Greek, naturally, but I'll translate for your benefit:
Therefore, my son, I will not stay here without you--no, not though heaven itself vouchsafe to strip my years from off me, and make me young as I was when I first left Hellas the land of fair women. I was then flying the anger of father Amyntor, son of Ormenus, who was furious with me in the matter of his concubine, of whom he was enamoured to the wronging of his wife my mother. My mother, therefore, prayed me without ceasing to lie with the woman myself, that so she hate my father, and in the course of time I yielded. But my father soon came to know, and cursed me bitterly, calling the dread Erinyes to witness. He prayed that no son of mine might ever sit upon knees--and the gods, Jove of the world below and awful Proserpine, fulfilled his curse. I took counsel to kill him, but some god stayed my rashness and bade me think on men's evil tongues and how I should be branded as the murderer of my father; nevertheless I could not bear to stay in my father's house with him so bitter a against me. My cousins and clansmen came about me, and pressed me sorely to remain; many a sheep and many an ox did they slaughter, and many a fat hog did they set down to roast before the fire; many a jar, too, did they broach of my father's wine. Nine whole nights did they set a guard over me taking it in turns to watch, and they kept a fire always burning, both in the cloister of the outer court and in the inner court at the doors of the room wherein I lay; but when the darkness of the tenth night came, I broke through the closed doors of my room, and climbed the wall of the outer court after passing quickly and unperceived through the men on guard and the women servants. I then fled through Hellas till I came to fertile Phthia, mother of sheep, and to King Peleus, who made me welcome and treated me as a father treats an only son who will be heir to all his wealth. He made me rich and set me over much people, establishing me on the borders of Phthia where I was chief ruler over the Dolopians.[Emphasis added.]
And Crazy Lance is all, "You been playing with hot wax and spilling it in your ears again? I didn't say 'Furies,' I said 'furries.'" And I'm all, "WTF?" (in Greek, of course), and he's all "Furries. Guys who dress up in animal costumes to have sex."
So after everyone had left, I logged onto Xtube, searched for "furries," and saw a four-minute video where some guy (I presume) in a large bunny suit gets fucked by some other guy wearing some other animal costume, the exact nature of which I was unable to determine. The resolution on the film was not so great.
(This, naturally, reminded me of TJ's recent request for a seal suit. He casts it as a simple desire to stay warm, but I bet he's going to be running up huge dry cleaning bills this year. He'll probably send his other half to the cleaners, too, so he won't have to answer all those annoying questions about the stains.)
Okay, so let's get something straight here. Just because you might enjoy doing something, that doesn't make that something a fetish. A fetish is a sexual object/practice without which you are unable to function or climax. So if the only way you're able to get off is by getting into a bunny suit and taking it from behind, then, fine, you can call it a fetish. If you just happen to think it's fun to make people think of Harvey in a horribly misguided way, you're a freak (for which I congratulate you), and you can call yourself a furry, but it's not a fetish.
I would go so far as to say that I suspect a certain amount of something that falls somewhere between disingenuity and pretense. It's hard for me to imagine that there is a significant number of people who need the fuzzy animal suit to function. Fetishes tend to be things that get set during periods of sexual development. So you'll meet a guy who was abused by a friend of his father's when he was twelve or thirteen, and thereafter he's only attracted to older men of a certain type who treat him badly. Unless there are people out there tossing teenagers into bunny suits and molesting them, I suspect that the furries enjoy the soft inside of a costume and enjoy the anonymity, but that most of them would do just as well in a set of fuzzy pajamas and a Nixon mask. I think it's a fad rather than a sexual variation. In a couple of years, these guys will be fucking in tap shoes and calling that a fetish.
(I realize, of course, that there's a good deal more to the "furry lifestyle" than the sexual aspects. But I still think it's all pretty silly. It appears to be another form of role playing: the D&D set updated a bit. Not that it isn't amusing to see the naive discuss things they've never heard of and things that are pretty common but still beyond their comprehension.)
But judge for yourself. Go to Xtube and check out the videos. Prepared to be monumentally bored, though. Watching a guy in a bunny suit get into doggy position (Whoa! Mixed metaphor alert!) and take it for four minutes is really pretty tedious. For obvious reasons, his expression never changes.
For similar reasons, I didn't want to search for and put pictures of furries in this post. So I went with some moderately furry guys instead. Trust me: I did you a favor.