Meet Corey Delaney, 16 of Melbourne, Australia and his “famous” glasses. Corey is being interviewed by a stern, buxom blond because he threw a party while his parents were on vacation, and when young Master Delaney throws a party, sometimes it involves over five hundred people and requires the attention of thirty police officers, a police helicopter, and the police dog squad. The raucous party goers caused an estimated twenty thousand dollars in damage which Corey or, more likely, Mr. and Mrs. Delaney may have to pay for.
Corey, for his part and to the frustration of the aforementioned buxom anchorwoman, seems unrepentant, and really, why should he? Shirtless, so as to better show off his single, pierced nipple, wearing a hat that he may have taken from a preteen girl or a mentally retarded woman, and glasses which are, as mentioned earlier, “famous” he has his whole life ahead of him. The world is his drunken oyster.
It makes me glad then, dear readers, that I do not live in a country, colonized by murderers, rapists, and thieves, that would produce a jackass of Corey Delaney’s caliber and instead live in a country, colonized by religious zealots who wanted to outlaw Christmas and which has never, ever, afforded people the liberty of such spectacular idiocy.
The surreality of a cross-continental missed connection, performed in distressingly autistic mime by the Prime Ministers of nerd rock. I see an allegory for internet romance here, and also a plaintive description of the alienation felt by the type of person I imagine Flansberg and Linnell to be. That is, my type of person.
Is there truly anything more ridiculous than a “furry”? Perhaps, a person who likes to dress up as an alien caveman?
Now, we here at Ectomo definitely aren’t the most straight-laced, vanilla, fetish-free people on Earth. I’ve got a thing for medical equipment, Eliza’s got a thing for tentacles, and Brownlee…diapers and Pez. So we definitely are not the kind of people to point the finger and laugh. But there’s just something so…unutterably wrong about getting your rocks off by dressing up in fur suits and pretending to be anthropomorphic animals that it’s impossible–impossible, I tell you!–to NOT mock furries.
Klingons are a bit harder to mock, simply because Star Trek is cool and I, personally, am afraid to mock Klingons because Klingons can and will pound your ass into dust. It is their warrior nature, after all!
So what could possibly be stranger than a Furries vs. Klingons bowling tournament?! There has to be an Ectomo reader/slave somewhere in the Atlanta area who can attend this carnival of ca-raziness and report back on the insanity.
Myself, though, I have my money on the Klingons. After all, bowling is not that much different than a batleth tournament, and you just know all those goofy furries are going to be tripping over their stuffed tails.
One thing that’s easy for relatively normal, relatively well-adjusted people to forget is that there is a large percentage of the population out there with absolutely no social skills whatsoever.
I remember the first time I learned this, when I was hired as a pudgy 14 year old nerd to work at the local comic book store. The moment I stepped through those doors, I became a veritable God of social grace, the James Bond of comic bookstore coolness. I remember in particular one customer who would constantly try to joke with me, following me around the store while incessantly jabbering nonsense. Every once and a while, he’d become transfixed to the spot, a vibrating column of pork-flavored gelatin, and in the midst of his seizure scream out an utterly nonsense remark at the top of his lungs. “MY SHOES ARE NOT YOURS!” is the one I remember distinctly. Then he’d giggle maniacally, searching my face intently for signs of approval. I loathed him.
It’s no surprise that many of these social outcasts magnetically gravitate towards each other in freakish social scenes, such as furrydom. This is an excellent example of the sort of misanthrope I mean. This is a clip of furry Austin Wolf getting an autograph from Rob Paulsen, a voice artist most commonly known for his portrayal of Yakko Warner in Animaniacs. Just look at the way every single thing that comes out of this guy’s mouth is socially alienating: Robert Paulsen, a professional and a normal-seeming guy, is utterly and completely repelled within less than a minute.
Also, make sure to watch to the end for the money shot: a creepy, close-up shot of the lycanthropic Austin Wolf himself. This is the face of the archetypical misanthrope, ladies and gentlemen, and it is a doughy face of madness and horror. Is that the sort of guy anyone would ever want as their number one fan?
Beauty & Drunk. It’s Rita Hayworth’s birthday; the photographers have gathered; she’s perfectly put together, and just drop-dead gorgeous. Her husband, a Mr. O. Welles, has just rolled out of bed and combed his hair with a pencil, and forgotten to button his shirt. The general impression is that he either A) had to get drunk to have sex with Rita Hayworth, or B) got so drunk he couldn’t have sex with Rita Hayworth. Neither reflects well on him.
You see Mr. Mayberry had unknowingly been issuing forth into my lovely polished tubes the drek of unsolicited email oft advertising creams with which to increase the length and breadth of your manhood or the ferocity of your disgusting organic spurtings. Mr. Mayberry was shocked! “How did this happen?!” he asked. “Well sir, you have a virus on your machine that comes with a set in instructions that tell it to send out email while it runs in the background so you’re unaware of it’s existence.” was my reply. “But how did that happen?” he repeated, which is actually fairly standard when you’re telling someone that the sanctity of their digital realm has been violated. Remembering that there has been a rash of e-card based virus payload spam going around recently I asked if he had recently gotten any e-cards and if so had he opened them.
Mr. Mayberry took a moment to reply. The pause itself felt loaded.
“Well…yeah…but, y’know..it was my birthday just a couple days ago and…y’know, I just thought maybe those were real.”
The world is full of lonely hearts and it is good to step cautiously around them. They are like bloated, shell-less snails, and you take pity on the helpless things, feeling a strange amalgam between empathy and disgust. But every once and a while, you come across one that is just so utterly loathsome, an affront to sentient dignity, that your lips peel back in a grin to reveal twinkling eye teeth, and all you want to do is feel its jelly squick between your toes as you jump up and down on it, laughing maniacally and staring into the sun.
In sheer defiance of the World Wide Web Consortium's will, Ectomo was designed using a non-web-standard font. Luckily, it is included in the excellent font pack released by the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society, which can be freely downloaded in Mac and PC formats here. Ectomo should still look fine without it, though.
Is there truly anything more ridiculous than a “furry”? Perhaps, a person who likes to dress up as an alien caveman?
One thing that’s easy for relatively normal, relatively well-adjusted people to forget is that there is a large percentage of the population out there with absolutely no social skills whatsoever. 
Speaking of schlubs and bombshells:
