… or is it the risk of the government turning to fascism to combat terrorism that’s really what we need to guard against?
I don’t know. All I know is that when I was very young, I saw a squirrel eating an acorn and it looked like the most delicious, satisfying meal ever.
As I grew older, I started to experiment and eventually tried to actually eat an acorn and found them difficult to chew and highly unpalatable. A big part of the appeal was that the squirrel could pick something right off of a tree, stick it in his mouth and digest it with ease.
It wasn’t just that I had to use a nutcracker to open it up, losing points for elegance and simplicity; it was that it tasted terrible. I remember asking my mother why squirrels would eat something that tasted so awful.
She told me that, to the squirrel, it probably tasted great. From that moment on, I knew two things were true: I desperately wanted to be a squirrel and that this dream would be forever unattainable.
My dilemma, as someone prone to fantastical bouts of romanticism who was simultaneously grounded solidly in the real, was that I would have to learn to grow accustomed to compromising.
If I could not live as the squirrels I so loved did, I would have to learn to live with them. To be with them. In every sense of the word.
The Neo-Cons aren’t bad people, really. I don’t believe that most of them are pro-fascism. I think that terrorism genuinely scares them. This is what causes them to over-react. To sacrifice the very freedoms that they are trying to protect.
My respect for the majestic squirrel is such that though I desired them above all else, when I found that the act of love making often left them in pretty bad physical shape, I swore off my addiction forever.
If you doubt my character, I ask you to turn your back on the culmination of all your life’s hopes and dreams. It is not an easy thing to do, believe me.
Now, I am no conspiracy theorist. I don’t believe there is a need to fake an event like 9/11. The terrorists are out there. Their threat is real. They will strike again and we have a right and a duty to protect ourselves from them, but not at the expense of our personal liberty and freedom. If we sacrifice those, that leaves us with little to fight for.
Desperate for hot man-squirrel love, but unable to destroy the lives of those I loved, in the process, I turned to other outlets for my obsession. While attending my niece’s fourth birthday party at a local amusement park, our group was approached by a man in a chipmunk costume. As he capered about, I had to excuse myself to run off and find a bathroom in which to masturbate, so violent and incapacitating was my arousal.
I thought, “if a chipmunk, why not a squirrel?” I had opened a door to a whole new world of sensual delights. You might seek to label me as a “plushie”, as I have heard this word bandied about on many occasions, but I believe this to be a misnomer.
My love is solely for squirrels. Barney the Dinosaur does nothing for me. Ditto Dora the Explorer. I find Mickey Mouse to be a buffoon. It’s not the costume that turns me on. In fact, it probably lessens my enjoyment, but like I said, my life is about accepting compromise.
Before the advent of the internet, I had few avenues in which to find willing partners, but now my plate is quite full. Though I don’t consider myself an activist, I am forever indebted to the Plushie community which has welcomed me with open paws.
If you can’t understand what would drive seemingly normal, sane people to such extremes, I ask you to consider this scenario: imagine your young daughter, your little princess, turns 12 or 13 and develops an avid interest in boys.
The thought of some greasy little pervert deflowering your sweet angel would haunt you. Just like the thought of another 9/11-style attack on this great country, in the minds of the Neo-Cons.
You might go so far as to lock her up, forbid her from having contact with any members of the opposite sex. You might take away her freedom and liberty in an effort to protect her. To guard her against that which you feared the most.
While you probably could succeed in preventing her from ever having sex, you have to evaluate the cost of such an action. The same goes for stripping the citizens of this country of their basic human rights. Things like free speech or the right to free association. Things that are traditional safeguards against fascism.
I believe that it is better to teach your daughter about the very realistic dangers of having sex, instruct her in your own moral beliefs, show her by your example what it is to be a good person. She’s not perfect, nobody is. She might slip up and get pregnant, she might get an STD, but hopefully she will learn and grow from those experiences, something she can’t do if she’s locked up in her room.
This is my attempt to show you the human side of something many of you would consider a crime. Something beautiful that you would seek to label as something ugly. I don’t consider my lifestyle to be “bestiality”. To me, it’s not a fetish. It may not be “normal” but that doesn’t make it wrong.
I want you to see that people like me shouldn’t be feared. Terrorists should be feared. What I am comes from a place of purity and love and indeed, innocence. If you can’t step outside your own preconceived notions of good and bad, I fear that the terrorists have already won.
And if you follow my advice and your daughter gets pregnant, just get her an abortion. Problem solved.