Memories of Hobo McBeerbottles (Oh, and NotWerewolves)

Matt here, requesting eye bleach and cuteness memes. You'll see why in a moment.
 
Bubba called me again, breathlessly telling me to get to the woods right *now* because there's a bunch of werewolves over by where he and I found that homeless guy's tent when we were kids, and the homeless guy chased us out of the woods and threw beer bottles at us.
 
Good times.
 
I wonder how that guy's doing. If not for the homeless aspect of it, not a bad way to spend a summer.
 
Bubba asked me to go investigate, and lord knows I needed to get time away from Mini-Me, so I left him in the capable hands of Bo and went to the woods past the creek on 46th.
 
The clearing was indeed replete with several canine bipeds, all making various noises and growls, buuuuut I think Bubba should've just let this one alone.
 
There's no lycanthropy here. Just furries doing, uh..... furry things. In the woods. As one (or, say, eighty) does.
 
I'm not judging. Consenting adults and whatnot. Looks like everyone was having a good time, and it's not like there's much else to do around here on a Sunday evening. Some of these fursuits are incredible! I'd take photos and show you if not for all the flopping people bits between the suits. Others are objectively awful, but the wearers are still included in the....... the celebrations, the...... shenanigans, and such. These seem like cool people expressing their horniness in a safe-ish and fun way.
 
I'm gonna get the hell outta here though. Between flashbacks of Hobo McBeerbottles and knowing I can't afford therapy to erase Floppy Fluffy from my memory, I hope I'm done with this clearing for a while.
 
Bubba, you still owe me five bucks for checking it out. Actually I'm doubling it for the psychological damage: ten bucks. The hell is the matter with you.

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