Once again I’m too enmeshed in my own trials to realize there is a fetish convention going on right under my nose. I’ve known about the plushie fetish for two years and if I’d been more on the ball it’d be my article in Vanity Fair right now. Just a gentle reminder to jump on your ideas when they happen. It’s only a matter of time before the collective conscious connects and someone else out there goes where you’ve been inspired to be. Not that seeing a group of adults wearing fur suits and dry humping is high on my list. I mean it’s not up there with the Tony, or Pulitzer, or Oscar or even the Nobel Peace Prize I hope to win someday for being a professional misanthrope. I think that’s my new title on my business card: ‘I hate all people. All the time.’ It’s sort of the exact opposite of HR. Maybe a backlash. No call from Richard – I might be clubbing solo – that’s the best though sometimes.
Now, if you’ll excuse me – I have to go fuck the dogshit out of my teddy bear.
Leave a Reply