User:JonBuck/Changing America - Revision history

JonBuck: Adding comment link. Got the ball rolling. Reader responses invited.

2009-07-10T09:32:02Z

Adding comment link. Got the ball rolling. Reader responses invited.

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	[[User:JonBuck/Changing America/Womanly Musings\|Some navel gazing, so to speak.]]		[[User:JonBuck/Changing America/Womanly Musings\|Some navel gazing, so to speak.]]

	Posted by: Serena the Leopardess, March 30, 10:18 p.m. (158 comments)		Posted by: Serena the Leopardess, March 30, 10:18 p.m. ([[User_talk:JonBuck/Changing_America/Womanly_Musings#Comments\|158 comments]])
	</div>		</div>

JonBuck at 05:52, 8 July 2009

2009-07-08T05:52:56Z

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	Aside from the stop at the fast food place, the ride back was uncomfortably silent.		Aside from the stop at the fast food place, the ride back was uncomfortably silent.

			<p style=" font-family: Georgia, Palatino, serif; font-size: 120%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">Womanly Musings</p>

			<div style="font-family: Georgia, Palatino, serif; font-size: 120%;margin: 10px auto;width: 80%;">

			I've been a woman for six months and change. From day one I never thought of it as a big deal. I was more concerned about the cat. But I think I've got a handle on the cat now.

			So now I have to deal with the fact I have a womb.

			[[User:JonBuck/Changing America/Womanly Musings\|Some navel gazing, so to speak.]]

			Posted by: Serena the Leopardess, March 30, 10:18 p.m. (158 comments)
			</div>

JonBuck at 04:03, 8 July 2009

2009-07-08T04:03:29Z

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	Posted by: Richard da Tiger, March 30, 9:530 p.m. (65 comments)</div>		Posted by: Richard da Tiger, March 30, 9:530 p.m. (65 comments)</div>

			{{Separator\|f}}

			"I started reading your blog when Bryce told me you were coming to interview," Jennifer Clay said as they left the office again. Her horns had been docked far enough that she didn't need to bend her neck to avoid the roof in their minivan. The scimitar oryx wore a short plain brown dress, her cloven hooves clattering on the blacktop. The color matched the light brown patches between her horns and on the bridge of her muzzle. "Nobody has any manners these days."

			"I'm not exactly Emily Post either, Mrs. Clay," Serena replied. She looked up at the slate-gray sky. It had started to drizzle again. The air smelled damp and clammy. The clouded leopardess shut the Toyota Sienna's passenger door. "Is this normal weather?"

			"Pretty much, yes," Jenny replied. She didn't have to turn her head much to see behind her as she backed out of the parking space. "You get used to the gloom after a few years. We don't get nearly the amount of snow you do. I prefer San Diego, frankly."

			"I'm sure," Serena said politely. There was something else on the white oryx's mind, she could see it in Jenny's eye. It was on the minds of everyone she met. There was simply no escaping it, no matter how much she wanted to. "Go ahead and ask."

			"Do you cats really sleep sixteen hours? I've read some strange things on the hoofer forums."

			Serena opened her mouth to discuss something feminine, but flicked her ears. "Um... actually, I don't sleep any longer than I used to. But I can doze off just about anywhere, anytime, if I'm bored enough."

			"Catnapping," Jenny said.

			"Pretty much."

			They sat in awkward silence for fifteen minutes, Serena looking at the unfamiliar evergreen landscape, Jenny focusing on the road ahead with her widely-spaced eyes. Despite the trimmed horns, the headliner over her head showed evidence of tearing and repair. "Almost there," Mrs. Clay said. "Have you really thought about having children? I can't imagine what it's like... though I'm trying."

			"I'm a woman, right? We have babies," Serena replied laconically. This was hardly the first time that subject had come up. One of the comment threads on the blog had centered around it. "I have a womb and everything. It's not as jarring as you think. It must be the hormones."

			Jenny nodded slightly, suddenly uncomfortable. "Could be. We're almost at the furry daycare, and you're a stranger, so if you don't mind staying in the minivan until I introduce you. They're eight and six, and only got their horns last August."

			Children tended to take the Change much more in stride than adults. Even the cases where there were gender changes involved, supposedly. It wasn't something Serena was comfortable investigating.

			It was getting dark by the time she exited. During that time, about ten minutes, a number of other furry parents came by to pick up their own children. ''Diversity,'' Serena thought. There were always some political elements who stridently believed it was a strength. Now humanity had more than it knew what to do with.

			The white oryx came out with her children in tow. They looked at her with bright, curious, and fearless expressions. They were both girls and had different markings on their faces than their mother. Their horns were also blunted. Freshly, from the raw surfaces. ''I'm a married woman,'' Serena thought. ''I get to bear the cubs. I mean, children.''

			''Okay. Well-trodden path or not, maybe I need to ponder this issue a little more closely.'' The clouded leopardess smiled amiably at Jenny and her children, not baring her teeth.

			"The kids want McDonald's for dinner, Serena. Do you mind?" Mrs. Clay said.

			"Sounds good. They have a menu suitable for us kitties now," Serena said.

			Aside from the stop at the fast food place, the ride back was uncomfortably silent.

JonBuck at 22:48, 4 July 2009

2009-07-04T22:48:31Z

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	Instead of writing a column on the interview the ''Globe'' is having me put the transcript up here. [[User:JonBuck/Changing America/Frasier Interview\|Read it all below the cut.]]		Instead of writing a column on the interview the ''Globe'' is having me put the transcript up here. [[User:JonBuck/Changing America/Frasier Interview\|Read it all below the cut.]]

	Posted by: Richard da Tiger, March 29, 10:20 a.m.		Posted by: Richard da Tiger, March 29, 10:20 a.m.</div>

			{{Separator\|f}}

			The last time Serena had seen her husband this angry was just after his interview with Chuck Polinsky in September. He never had told her why he'd gotten so pissed off. The Veil had torn just then and they'd suddenly had other worries. "What's wrong, Richard?" she asked. It was her turn to drive as they returned to the hotel.

			"I had over twenty more questions I wanted to ask him! I barely got any of the information I'd hoped for." He growled. "This entire trip has been one disappointment after another! If I can't get that interview with Dr. Clay..."

			Serena shot him a worried look. "If you can't, what happens? Would they actually fire you?"

			The tiger sighed. "To be honest, I'm not sure. But the possibility exists, so..."

			With a twelve percent nationwide unemployment rate, it always paid to be cautious these days. Especially in the newspaper business, where cutbacks continued across the board. "Should you give Dr. Clay a call, just to make sure he's still amenable?"

			The clouded leopardess sighed. "Are you going to call him or what?"
			"I will, hon. Don't push me," Richard grumbled with half a growl. He scrolled through his notes and dialed Dr. Clay's office in Everett with a stylus.

			Serena looked at her new husband out of the corner of her orange eye. Richard was normally very easygoing, but the stress of this trip and the general ill health of the industry he worked in had put a growing amount of stress on him. Every few months there was a new round of layoffs, to the point where half of the cubicles at the newspaper were now empty. Tigers, being rather solitary to begin with, made the emptying _Boston Globe_ feel more comfortable. More space for him, the apex predator.

			Polar bears were also apex predators. This was going to be an interesting meeting.

			{{Separator\|f}}

			Dr. Clay and his wife made a stunning pair. He, with his shock-white fur, and she, an exotic scimitar oryx who was nearly as blinding white. She had obviously shortened and blunted her horns, with a bare foot rising over her head in a gentle backwards arc. Their children had Changed the previous August. Both son and daughter were oryx, much to their father's chagrin.

			"Thank you for agreeing to meet us, Dr. Clay," Richard said, doffing his signature fedora. "My wife and I are happy to meet you."
			"Likewise," the polar bear said as they shook hands, orange-black to white. They grasped each other's handpaw a little tight, testing one another, standing nearly eye-to-eye. They had met in front of the building. Clay assured him that his staff had all left for the evening.
			The odors surrounding the door contained the densest mixture of various furries Serena had even smelled. It was far worse than the hospital.

			"I apologize for the stink," Dr. Bryce Clay said as he invited them inside. "It's just the way this place is."

			"I don't smell a lot of human odors," Richard observed.

			"To be honest, after we were outed last September all my human patients abandoned me," the polar bear said bitterly. He took a seat in one of the large waiting room chairs, his wife next to him. She didn't seem nervous. "What did you want to start with? The insurance mess? If you saw the hearings the only thing keeping the furry medical specialists afloat right now is a kludged-together emergency healthcare bill. I'm conservative enough that I don't like it one bit. But it's the only thing keeping me afloat right now."

			The reporter put his iPhone down on the table and had it start to record the interview. "I understand they want you to get a Veterinarian license as well?"

			"This is on the record now?" his wife asked. Her voice had a trace of a Middle Eastern accent. "I prefer not to be included. Perhaps your wife and myself could go elsewhere so you men can get down to business?"

			"I don't mind stepping out," Serena said. After the tense trip in the Jeep, for the first time Serena wanted a little time to herself. Even if it felt like she was being an old stereotype. Letting the men work while the women went elsewhere.

			"We should go get some take out," the oryx suggested. "It's dinnertime anyway. And I need to go pick up the kids from the sitter." She gave Serena a Look. "That is, if Serena doesn't mind. After reading the blog I know this is new to her."

			"You don't have to let her interview you, Jenny," Dr. Clay said.

			"I won't, not formally," she replied. "But if some of our conversations end up on their blog, I don't object to that." She gestured for Serena to follow. "Come. Our children can get very cranky if I don't pick them up promptly. And if you haven't spent any time with children since you became a woman, you can write about that on your blog."

			<p style=" font-family: Georgia, Palatino, serif; font-size: 120%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">Interview: Dr. Bryce Clay</p>

			<div style="font-family: Georgia, Palatino, serif; font-size: 120%;margin: 10px auto;width: 80%;">

			Dr. Bryce Clay is a controversial figure in the furry and medical community, mainly for an incident in 2006 where he killed a burglar in his home in self defense. Before then he considered his condition a delusion, like so many of us did. Only meeting Judge Pickford and a few other Changed convinced him otherwise.

			[[User:JonBuck/Changing America/Clay Interview\|Read it all below the cut.]]

			Posted by: Richard da Tiger, March 30, 9:530 p.m. (65 comments)</div>

JonBuck: Blog Format Experiment...

2009-06-17T08:43:49Z

Blog Format Experiment...

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	</div><br/>		</div><br/>

			{{Separator\|f}}

			''March 28''

			"I can't believe it's taken us almost two weeks to get here," Richard said. His claws had worn gouges into the leather-covered steering wheel. Though Mike had accounted for their claws, clipped or not hours and hours of one or the other being behind the wheel had worn it out. From the frustration in her husband's voice, it wasn't the only thing wearing out. "We're going to have to speed it up a little. We were given six weeks."

			"Which means we still have a month left. Don't fret," Serena said. The most common cause of their delays had been the weather, which was completely beyond their control anyway. But her husband's editor had been on his back for going too slow. They weren't going to spend more time in Seattle than they needed to get a few important interviews done. Provided the people they ''wanted'' to interview weren't out of town at the Sandrick Hearings.

			Serena opened her netbook and looked at the names and hoped-for interview dates. Mostly tomorrow morning and afternoon before they started heading south to San Diego. Dr. Bryce Clay, polar bear, subject of investigation for HIPAA regulations. Dr. Edward Frasier, "Doc Marten" in the furry community and longtime Known before the Veil came down. And Judge Wilhelm Pickford, bighorn sheep, one of the earlier Changed in higher positions of government.

			"We're really cutting it close here. We don't have much time to sightsee," Serena said.

			"There's a decent Bubble on the waterfront. I got us a room. Kinda expensive with the surcharge, but at least we'll have a nice view of the Sound," Richard replied. He patted his new wife on her shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll make up for it on the drive southwards."

			"Redwoods?"

			The tiger smiled. "We're going right down US 101, then through Monterey and Big Sur. It's going to be spectacular."

			<p style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">Boston Globe Changing America Blog</p>

			<p style=" font-family: Georgia, Palatino, serif; font-size: 120%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">Interview: Dr. Edward Frasier</p>

			<div style="font-family: Georgia, Palatino, serif; font-size: 120%;margin: 10px auto;width: 80%;">

			"Doc Marten" Edward Frasier is perhaps one of the most well-known (and Known) members of the Changed community. His daughter, now a student at Reed College, originally Changed in 2003. It took a couple years for him to bust the Veil himself, but afterwards he turned his rather amazing artistic talents towards furry portraits, as well as those of the Gender Changed after 2007 so they knew what their new ghosts looked like.

			Instead of writing a column on the interview the ''Globe'' is having me put the transcript up here. [[User:JonBuck/Changing America/Frasier Interview\|Read it all below the cut.]]

			Posted by: Richard da Tiger, March 29, 10:20 a.m.

JonBuck: Rewritten section.

2009-06-12T04:49:05Z

Rewritten section.

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	''March 26''		''March 26''

			"Aw, hell," Richard cursed. The post actually explained his behavior towards them. He was envious. "Who knows who they're going to replace Alan with. And this happened days ago!"

			"Why would they need to?" Serena asked as she dressed in front of the hotel mirror. The weather in Bismark was even worse than in Chicago. The mercury hovered around ten degrees, with wind chill below zero. Serena tied her long hair back into a ponytail, then put on a jacket over her long sleeved shirt. "Tell me why we're going out in this crappy weather again? It isn't fit for a caribou outside."

			"Funny you should say that," the tiger continued, putting on his trench coat, but not his fedora. It would easily blow away in this frigid wind. "Got word on a comment thread there's a couple of arctic furs who like to play chess, no matter the temperature. Thought we'd stroll down to the Capitol and say hello."

			Serena pulled a hat on. She hated wearing them, since they muffled her sense of hearing. "Okay, hon. I'll do it for you."

			By the time they left the winds had calmed down, leaving only a light snowfall. It was actually quite pretty, and would have been better if Bismarck's on Capitol Building wasn't one of the ugliest concrete block structures Serena had ever seen. It made Boston's brutalist City Hall look like a work of art by comparison.

			There was two feet of dry snow on the ground. The wind had blown it into interesting hollows and drifts around streetlights, newspaper boxes, and fence posts. "Just who are we looking for?"

			"There they are. Under those pine trees. On the picnic bench," Richard said.

			On the bench sat a broad-shouldered caribou, obviously male having a stubby velvet-covered set of growing antlers. Unmelted snow rested on his shoulders as he considered the chessboard in front of him, resting his muzzle in one hand with his elbow on the table. His opponent was a white fluffball, only visible because he or she was sitting with the tree trunk directly behind, and black eyes and nose. "Still your move, Sam," a bored female voice said when the arctic vixen opened her mouth.

			"I'm still thinking, Rosie," he said gruffly, his breath steaming out of his nostrils.

			"You see the Sandrick Hearings this morning?" the vixen replied. "The man should be tossed out on his ear! We were doing well enough on our own without the government sticking their noses where it didn't belong."

			"Funny I'd hear something like that coming from the mouth of someone who voted for Rand. Twice," Sam said absently, his mind on something else. He gave her an arch look. "Besides, isn't Sandrick a Republican anyway? One of yours?"

			"I'm a Goldwater Republican. I don't know what Sandrick is and don't care. Don't know enough about him. And Rand was ''never'' one of mine. I held my nose and voted for whoever stunk the least, same as you," Rosie scoffed. "Here I thought you'd have applauded me for voting a woman into office. You're always prattling to me about feminism."

			"Not ''that'' woman," the caribou retorted. "But you're dead to rights on voting for who stank the least. I voted for Burke in '04. With this nose 'o mine I could smell his stench all the way from Washington."

			"I hope you end up a woman yourself! It'd make you easier on the eyes if nothing else." The vixen's eyes finally rose off the chessboard. "We have company, Sam. Well, don't just stand there gawking!" she yelled. "Stripes and spots, eh?"

			"Richard Sobel, ''Boston Globe,"'' the tiger said as they approached. "I was told to mention the name Marsha to you."

			"Sobel, huh? You Jewish?" the vixen asked.

			"Had to cut earholes in my yarmulke," Richard said, smiling but not baring his teeth. He put his arm over the clouded leopardess' shoulders. "This is Serena, my wife."

			The caribou snorted. "Marsha."

			"She's ''your sister,"'' the arctic vixen pointed out.

			"She's always been a gossip. Can't say it got any better once she got her own dainty set of antlers," Sam said. He turned his head and regarded the two cats warily. "And it seems she thinks we're newsworthy. All the way from Boston, huh? Long way to fly just to interview a couple crotchety old coots. Have a seat."

			"Thanks. We appreciate it," Richard said, taking a seat on the caribou's side after scraping off a couple inches of snow from the seat. "Aren't you cold?"

			"Cold? Are you kidding? It's nearly ten degrees out! It's sweltering!" Sam scoffed.

			Richard explained what they were doing here, in a nutshell. "I think your sister's a regular commenter on the newspaper's furry blog."

			"She does read those things," Sam confirmed. "A lot. 'Specially since she went furry last August."

			"How long have you been changed?" Richard asked.

			"Both of us since ought-four," the vixen said. She looked at the chessboard, where there were few pieces left. "Are you going to make a move or not, Sam?"

			"Nag, nag, nag. You should've been a mare, Rosie," Sam grumbled. He moved a pawn and clicked the chess clock. "Check."

			"Check? ''Check?'' That can't be..." she took some canned air out of her purse and used it to clear the snow-dusted chessboard. "I suppose it is." She peered at the chessboard for about fifteen seconds and moved a knight, taking a bishop. "Check."

			Sam didn't hesitate. He moved his remaining bishop into position. "Checkmate, my dear vixen. As the younger generation would say, game over."

			Serena expected a bloodthirsty snarl from Rosie. What she got was a hands-on-her-hips glare. "I'll get you next time, Sam."

			<p style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">Boston Globe Changing America Blog</p>

			<div style="font-family: Georgia, Palatino, serif; font-size: 120%;margin: 10px auto;width: 80%;">

			Location: Missoula, MT.

			With my human colleague off to Washington to watch the politicians grill the badger Congressman, we've decided to rename this blog. This is ''not'' an apocalypse, no matter what people say. We're simply changing. For better or for worse, time will tell. But it's certainly ''not'' the end of all things.

			Well... I did just read that Disney is doing a live action remake of their animated ''Robin Hood.'' Dreamworks says that the sequel to ''Kung Fu Panda'' will be live action with the characters' voices dubbed in, and CGI for the birds and others. I only mention this in passing, mind you.

			Our next entry will be from Seattle.

			Posted by: Richard da Tiger, March 27, 12:22 pm (85 comments)

			I'm reopening comments on my posts, but moderated only.

			We met a couple of furs the other day that, in my mind, should be at each other's throat. They were about as politically opposite as you can get. But they're not. I made a point of asking Rosie why not. This is what she said: "And lose the best chess opponent in North Dakota? Are you mad, woman?"

			I've never been this far west before. We're going over the Rockies in early Spring, which is no cakewalk. I'm looking forward to Seattle, which I've heard called the Boston of the west coast.

			Posted by: Serena the Leopardess, March 27, 12:31 pm. (3 comments)

			</div><br/>

JonBuck: Adding a link to a "blog comment" on the Talk Page.

2009-06-11T20:48:20Z

Adding a link to a "blog comment" on the Talk Page.

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	I'm being sent to cover the Sandrick Hearings in Washington. So this blog is essentially a two furry show from here on out.		I'm being sent to cover the Sandrick Hearings in Washington. So this blog is essentially a two furry show from here on out.

	Posted by: Alan Parks (the lonely human), March 22, 6:35 a.m. (15 comments)		Posted by: Alan Parks (the lonely human), March 22, 6:35 a.m. ([http://www.shifti.org/wiki/User_talk:JonBuck/Changing_America#The_Envious_Alan 15 comments])

	</div><br/>		</div><br/>

JonBuck: Section deleted pending rewrite.

2009-06-11T18:54:19Z

Section deleted pending rewrite.

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	''March 26''		''March 26''

	~~"Aw, hell," Richard cursed. The post actually explained his behavior towards them. He was envious. "Who knows who they're going to replace Alan with. And this happened days ago!"~~

	"Why would they need to?" Serena asked as she dressed in front of the hotel mirror. The weather in Bismark was even worse than in Chicago. The mercury hovered around ten degrees, with wind chill below zero. Serena tied her long hair back into a ponytail, then put on a jacket over her long sleeved shirt. "Tell me why we're going out in this crappy weather again? It isn't fit for a caribou outside."

	"Funny you should say that," the tiger continued, putting on his trench coat, but not his fedora. It would easily blow away in this frigid wind. "Got word on a comment thread there's a couple of arctic furs who like to play chess, no matter the temperature. Thought we'd stroll down to the Capitol and say hello."

	~~Serena pulled a hat on. She hated wearing them, since they muffled her sense of hearing. "Okay, hon. I'll do it for you."~~

	By the time they left the winds had calmed down, leaving only a light snowfall. It was actually quite pretty, and would have been better if Bismarck's on Capitol Building wasn't one of the ugliest concrete block structures Serena had ever seen. It made Boston's brutalist City Hall look like a work of art by comparison.

	~~There was two feet of dry snow on the ground. The wind had blown it into interesting shapes and drifts around streetlights and fence posts. "Just who are we looking for?"~~

	~~"There they are. Under those pine trees. On the picnic bench," Richard said.~~

	There was a female caribou there, wearing a red bikini. Her companion across the table was all white except for his eyes and nose. Perhaps he--or she--was either a white wolf... No, Serena decided. The ears were too small. "Arctic fox?"

	~~"That's her. These two play chess here every single day. There's a Bubble just around the spot they meet," Richard informed. He waved at them. "Hello there! Richard Sobel, ''Boston Globe!"''~~

	"You've come a long way for an interview, youngster!" the fox shouted back. The voice was definitely feminine. The snow muffled it slightly. The arctic vixen didn't appear to be wearing any clothes at first, but as they got closer a camisole top became barely visible. She sat back down on the bench. "Still your move, Sam."

	~~"You should've been a horse, Rosie. Nag, nag, nag," the caribou replied irritably. She reached out and moved a pawn forward before hitting the chess clock. "Check."~~

	"Check? How can that be ''Check?"'' the vixen fumed before looking over the chessboard again. "Oh, I suppose it is. But you don't have me yet, you dirty hippie!" She triumphantly moved a knight, taking her opponent's bishop. "Out of check. And check." She smiled evilly. "I win this game and you take that flower arranging course."

	~~"And if ''I'' win I want to see you wear some ''pants'' for a month. I don't care if your mother always wore a dress," Sam said. "But let's wait and give these two an audience for a few minutes."~~

	~~"Thanks. We appreciate it," Richard said, taking a seat on the caribou's side after scraping off a couple inches of snow from the seat. "Aren't you cold?"~~

	~~"Cold? Are you kidding? It's nearly ten degrees out! It's sweltering!" Sam scoffed.~~

	~~The tiger chuckled. "Okay. According to my info, you're Samantha Rogers," he said to the caribou. "You're both retired faculty from the state university, correct?"~~

	"Samuel, originally," she replied offhandedly. "This Change is a feminist's dream. After seventy years I finally get to know what it's like. Considering most of my health problems vanished, it's a good trade. I think my antlers are rather pretty, don't you?"

	~~"Sammy, you don't have a feminine bone in your body," the vixen scoffed. "Every single time I've tried to take you shopping, or do knitting, or..."~~

	~~The caribou rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm a woman now doesn't mean I have to adhere to any kind of traditional gender roles. ''You're'' the one who rushed headlong into that, Ronald."~~

	~~Serena's eyes widened. "Wait. Both of you went transgender?"~~

	"We're flippers," Rosie replied. "We've been Changed since ought-one. I've flipped every couple years. Sammy here flipped once three years ago and hasn't changed back since. Gives you a certain perspective on life at our age. Stops feeling so stale."

	~~"Rosie, we're a couple crotchety old men who became a pair of equally crotchety old women. What the ''hell'' really changed?" the caribou said. "You ''still'' voted for Rand twice, you moron."~~

	~~"Here I thought you'd applaud me for voting another woman into office," the vixen replied. "Solidarity, right? Feminism, right?"~~

	~~Sam picked up some snow from the seat next to her and tossed it into Rosie's face. "You were a ''man'' then!"~~

	~~"Whatever! We're ignoring the young cats again."~~

	~~Richard folded up his notebook. "That's okay, ladies. I think I've heard enough. I'm surprised you two haven't killed each other by now. You seem like polar opposites."~~

	~~"Now why would we do a silly thing like that?" Rosie said, handpaws on her hips. "And lose the best chess player in North Dakota?"~~

	~~"Frankly, we agree more than we disagree," the caribou said. "We just like to argue. Makes life interesting." She reached for a piece on the chess board. "Check mate."~~

JonBuck at 17:56, 10 June 2009

2009-06-10T17:56:25Z

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	"Check? How can that be ''Check?"'' the vixen fumed before looking over the chessboard again. "Oh, I suppose it is. But you don't have me yet, you dirty hippie!" She triumphantly moved a knight, taking her opponent's bishop. "Out of check. And check." She smiled evilly. "I win this game and you take that flower arranging course."		"Check? How can that be ''Check?"'' the vixen fumed before looking over the chessboard again. "Oh, I suppose it is. But you don't have me yet, you dirty hippie!" She triumphantly moved a knight, taking her opponent's bishop. "Out of check. And check." She smiled evilly. "I win this game and you take that flower arranging course."

	"And if ''I'' win I want to see you ~~on that bronco at the bar~~," Sam said. "But let's wait and give these two an audience for a few minutes."		"And if ''I'' win I want to see you wear some ''pants'' for a month. I don't care if your mother always wore a dress," Sam said. "But let's wait and give these two an audience for a few minutes."

	"Thanks. We appreciate it," Richard said, taking a seat on the caribou's side after scraping off a couple inches of snow from the seat. "Aren't you cold?"		"Thanks. We appreciate it," Richard said, taking a seat on the caribou's side after scraping off a couple inches of snow from the seat. "Aren't you cold?"
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	"Samuel, originally," she replied offhandedly. "This Change is a feminist's dream. After seventy years I finally get to know what it's like. Considering most of my health problems vanished, it's a good trade. I think my antlers are rather pretty, don't you?"		"Samuel, originally," she replied offhandedly. "This Change is a feminist's dream. After seventy years I finally get to know what it's like. Considering most of my health problems vanished, it's a good trade. I think my antlers are rather pretty, don't you?"

	"Sammy, you don't have a ~~female~~ bone in your body," the vixen scoffed. "Every single time I've tried to take you shopping, or do knitting, or..."		"Sammy, you don't have a feminine bone in your body," the vixen scoffed. "Every single time I've tried to take you shopping, or do knitting, or..."

	The caribou rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm a woman now doesn't mean I have to adhere to any kind of traditional gender roles. ''You're'' the one who rushed headlong into that, Ronald."		The caribou rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm a woman now doesn't mean I have to adhere to any kind of traditional gender roles. ''You're'' the one who rushed headlong into that, Ronald."

JonBuck at 07:46, 10 June 2009

2009-06-10T07:46:59Z

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-Since my honeymooning colleagues are taking a three-day hiatus, I thought I'd finally add my two cents.  What I can't understand is how everybody can be so ''calm'' about the human race going extinct.  I could wake up and look just like Richard's wife tomorrow, for all I know.  And it doesn't bother me like it should.  I should be scared out of my wits.  Instead, and I hesitate to write this, I'm rather envious of my feline colleagues. But.. ''It.  Makes.  No.  Sense.'' That I should feel this way.  So I have to wonder if I'm being manipulated.
+Since my honeymooning colleagues are taking a three-day hiatus, I thought I'd finally add my two cents.  What I can't understand is how everybody can be so ''calm'' about the human race going extinct.  I could wake up and look just like Richard's wife tomorrow, for all I know.  And the prospect doesn't bother me.  I ought to be scared out of my wits.  Instead, and I hesitate to write this, I'm rather envious of my feline colleagues. But.. ''It.  Makes.  No.  Sense.'' That I should feel this way.  So I have to wonder if I'm being manipulated.
-Call it God's Will if you want.  I don't have any other explanation for why things are going so smoothly, even in parts of the world where furries would be hunted down and killed.  Oh, there are problems.  I pity anyone who becomes a pig or a dog in the Islamic world.  And this is roiling the entire Hindu world since it's wrecking their ideas about reincarnation.
+Call it God's Will if you want.  That's what the Pope, the Mormons, and the Baptists are saying.  I don't have any other explanation for why things are going so smoothly, even in parts of the world where furries would be hunted down and killed.  Oh, there are problems.  I pity anyone who becomes a woman, a pig, or a dog in the Islamic world.  And this is roiling the entire Hindu world since it's wrecking their ideas about reincarnation.
 I'm being sent to cover the Sandrick Hearings in Washington.  So this blog is essentially a two furry show from here on out.
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 ''March 26''
-"Aw, hell," Richard cursed.  "Who knows who they're going to replace Alan with.  And this happened days ago!"
+"Aw, hell," Richard cursed.  The post actually explained his behavior towards them.  He was envious.  "Who knows who they're going to replace Alan with.  And this happened days ago!"
 "Why would they need to?" Serena asked as she dressed in front of the hotel mirror. The weather in Bismark was even worse than in Chicago.  The mercury hovered around ten degrees, with wind chill below zero.  Serena tied her long hair back into a ponytail, then put on a jacket over her long sleeved shirt.  "Tell me why we're going out in this crappy weather again?  It isn't fit for a caribou outside."