Lord Ryven's Journal, submitted by Bad Tiggy. Lord Ryven is the best. He's a militant furry who hates furries and regular people alike, goes off on long tangents about being a muscleheaded moron including long lists of exercises he does, and he writes poetry about being a furry. Did I mention that he considers himself to be a diety?
Cash remaining for Anthrocon, approx 850 dollars.
Beer must be purchased thursday morning before I head off to AC,
Liquor will flow like the blood of the innocent from the heavens!
And it will be good!
Still have that young chica at my house,
down to 179.5lbs, feelin diezel and ripped.
Flexin out for no reason,
gonna take off work tomorrow to sit around and tan, and make post Con preperations.
"Sadly" there are no pictures on his live journal of Lord Ryven looking "diezel and ripped" in his furry costume.
I have devised my master plan!
I have conquored, that which has braught me stress and three nights of sleeplessness!
All shall be as I demand it!
For I alone am The Greater God!
The Greater God,
Great, the last thing this world needs is furries with TOO MUCH self-esteem. He goes crazy if you forget to address him by his fake title of "Lord" and even the usually creepy furries seem to be terrified of him based on the e-mails he posted where they beg him not to come to their little yiff festival.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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