"Noma is a rapidly progressive, polymicrobial, opportunistic infection that occurs during periods of compromised immune function. Fusobacterium necrophorum and Prevotella intermedia are thought to be key players in the process and interact with one or more other bacterial organisms (such as Borrelia vincentii, Porphyromonas gingivalis, Tannerella forsynthesis, Treponema denticola, Staphylococcus aureus, and nonhemolytic Streptococcus spp).

The reported predisposing factors include:
Malnutrition or dehydration
Poor oral hygiene
Poor sanitation
Unsafe drinking water
Proximity to unkempt livestock
Recent illness
Malignancy
An immunodeficiency disorder, including AIDS

Noma was observed in Nazi concentration camps in World War II, and was studied by Nazi physician Josef Mengele. In many cases a recent debilitating illness, usually measles and sometimes herpes simplex, varicella (chicken pox), scarlet fever, malaria, tuberculosis, gastroenteritis or bronchopneumonia, precedes the appearance of noma as well as cancers such as leukemia. In many instances the infection begins as necrotizing ulcerative gingivitis (NUG). Early presentation is unclear as noma is often well progressed at initial presentation.

Noma, unlike most infections, is able to spread through anatomic barriers such as muscle.

In the developed world, noma has virtually disappeared except for an occasional case related to immunosuppressive conditions such as HIV infection, severe combined immunodeficiency syndrome, or intense immunosuppressive therapy. The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates the global yearly incidence to be approximately 140,000, of which 100,000 are between 1 and 7 years old and living in sub-Saharan Africa."
STOLEN FROM http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noma_%28disease%29 :P

A bit of poetry. I am so awesome I cant even properly upload a word document, so this is where this silly bit of prose is gunna sit, till I can get a nerdy friend to show me the light.
_________________________________
Silly Water

There used to be a mountain
That sheltered me;
I’de go up there to cry,
It was way up high!

Now the Mountain is gone
Crumbled by the Sea;
Why oh why
Didn’t it wait for me?

Never in my life before
Had I stepped so high
Out of the water
I expect I shall die in.

Oh so badly I wish
The mountain was still there;
Never before had I thought
That I could so much care.

If only I was better,
If I just wasn’t me:
Maybe my Mountain
Wouldn’t have crumbled into the Sea.

{comment}
"I don't know who (Or what) I was refereing to in this bit of work. I never really have that much going on in my head when I write poetry. Perhaps a sign to point me to the origin of the obscene lack of classiness in my prose, yes :3? I just write and let the emotion flow. Nah... I write and let the /words/ flow. The emotion... I just feel it as I write. Typicaly. Some times, I dont feel the emotion associated with a little piece of pie until the thing has been nommed properly, and finished off. Somehow.
Maybe this poem's subject is refering to my absent father, who even now puts more effort into scoring hot babes than giving his son more than the baest skeleton framework of a relationship. Maybe ish just refering to a break up I have supposedly stopped 'giving a damn about.' Maybe it's just me writing about all of the wonderful places I have enjoyed going to to be alone; places that are gone now. I really dont know.
I do hope I dont ever stop feeling inclined to stop day dreaming about any of these things, whatever the case."

Now I find myself totaly unwavering in the idea that vore is the silliest and one of the funnest things to role play, but I often find myself looking upon folks with totaly different ideas about nomming down on a fellow fur or scalie. I think that it is in my own and perhaps the best interest of others to have some sort of bullshit set up excuse for why we happen to like what we like ("Who the hell knows?"). So! Yeah. Immah write this, and get spammed in my note box by haters. Love it. My primary purpose for this, however, is to shed a bit of light on this thing, for the purpose of showing some of my more open-minded friends a bit of what vore is. I am doing this, because I am thinking about a couple of friends of mine who have lost friends over some silly thoughts on vore. I am writing for the purpose of arranging a couple of thoughts that clearly dont get to pass through most peep's ears. To put it bluntly, I am writing so maybe some of you out there wont harp on your homies who like some of that nomalicious times. I sure hope I can give you a little bit of the insight that I so very much definately (without a doubt, cause I am so awesome) have. Yay for tldr. It makes me wet for yoo.
Of course, this is the simple and Jiffay take on it. I am thinking that there are a great many examples of much more finely written and logical pieces of writing exemplefiying the more exemplifyable qualities of voriphic tiemz. Perhaps I might just giggle and compose random combinations of words to try and get accross the meaning vore has to me. Or maybe.. I'll just discuss what vore means to me, and afterwards what the thing is and can be in and of itself.
The idea of eating your friends is absolutely absurd and ridiculous, and the fact that you and your compadre might even enjoy it is even more silly sounding. But for me, that's just the thing. The whole proscess is silly and absurd, and I am just the sort of sucker to fanboy on silly and playful stuff. The fact that it is such an easy group activity to slip into as well? Priceless. It's a kickass way to spend a bit of time playing with your friends.
But then again, most of my activities are naive and silly. I may swear and act amazingly irreverent, but there is a discinct lack of that 'dirty' feeling in my actions (I even actively avoid leaving people with that feeling.) Nevertheless, some things just naturaly have a dirty and defiling feel to people's sensabilties. Vore seems to be one of them. Most of my friends know what kind of lengths I go to in order to not leave some one feeling like things are not bright and cheerful, or at least not serious. It's hard to think about things that are dirty and gross feeling and be left with a happy view of the world.
I think this feeling of dirtyness is a very easily associated thing with vore, because of the fact that it often is aquanted with snuff. To be honest, most voriphiles don't like the idea of some one dying on their insides, or dying inside of some one else. There is a common theme of 'absorption', as in, becoming one with another; but this is almost magicaly done in nearly every example I have seen of it. Most voriphiles, like most people, are squeemish as hell when it comes to things like people not being fair to each other. Vore can often be described as a 'very close, full bodied hug.' It is also almost always described as a showing of trust between people.
The root of the matter, though, is that it is a show of equality. Despite the fact that one person is clearly leading the series of actions, and the other's actions are merely responses, I have always noticed a sincere amount of balance in the trust shown between two people who were friends, and were voring. Happily, such things remind me of the many examples of sillies I usually get up to in random role playing. Every one gets to feel special; every one's importance is brought up to an equal level.
I dont have much more to tldr you over. But hey! I do think that I have sort-of-kind-of gotten my point across. There is a lot of joy to be found in admiring the qualities of the way people show trust towards each other. Whether it's something is oddly insaaaaaane like nomming on your homie, or just giving them a regular, good old fashioned tight hug, it is always a wise practice to try and think about how good some things that people feel are special to them make them feel. Remember; if you focus on how great something is making some one's day, it's pretty tough to feel bad about it. It's pretty nice to share in some one else's joy in such a pure and unselfish way, too. So yeah... Iz all good.
You guys enjoy your timez, and laugh and giggle right along with your kinky friends when they get to talking about something special in their lives. It's all just people enjoying themselves, whatever it happens to be. Like.... Delicious cake.

Oh hell yeah, back from a weekened of working my ass off, and thus preserving the sexy in my rear, as well as the heft in my wallet. My heft... Awe yeah, I know what you thought I was going to say. But I wouldnt mention how hefty that is. I am much to prim and proper for that sort of humor. You nasteh pervert, how dare yoo.
So yeah, I got home at about three thrity and viewed pronz (Adjot is so damn cool) on my limited data plan, and pretty much stayed up till the moon went away and the sun came to annoy me with it's delecious rays. I tell you, that job I just did left me tan as a Mexican, and I even was assumed to be one by many of my fellow workmen till I showed them how immpossible it is for a hispanic individual to make the sort of inane and honest comments on our boss. Of course, I was equally offensive towards a great many of my fellows, and of course I had succeeded in pissing off every one of them before the end of the job was even within sight. The greatest occasion for pissing off my fellow workingman was through taking photos of a particularly disheveld and hillbilly-esque individual I had the pleasure to view every now and then. He was so stereotypicaly trashy... But some how he managed to mesh together both the uneducated hillbilly look, and the silly wigger look. It was a very delightful spectacle to see, and it brought much lighthearted joking to many more aside from me and my primary button. Well anywaysies..
I took a whole bunch of pictures of the guy when he could clearly see me, and pointed and laughed while doing it. Aheehee, the bastard got real aggravated and started waving his arms and gesturing towards me and my primary compatriate in the humor (A fine man named Mr. C. Um... I guess it stands for ceeyunnt or something, I don't know). So yeah, pissing off the trashy locals in an area is always fun. Seeing them act like they would try anything with a couple of silly looking and vile angry-expressioned individuals like Mr. C. and I was amusing as well.
The whole job was setting up a great and large cheer/dance team competition. So there was a lot of fine ladies running around, showing off their rears to my fine and stand-outish self. I was not very engaged with admiring the finely toned rears of minors though; I was interested in those kinky and sexy looking skirts and tight shirt things they were wearing. So I snuck into the coach's area and stole a uniform ordering magazine from one, and looked at all the possibilities for kinky lady-wear I might be able to squeeze my skinny bottom into. The possibilities were endless.. Till I had a reality check from Mr C.
"Jiffy, I don't think you are going to fit into anything in that book, and still look sexy. Your junk is too big and would make things pretty vulgar."
I of course had not told anyone why I was regarding the magazine. The fact that he knew I was looking into some kinky crossdressing hada very flabergasting effect on me: was I really showing those thoughts on my face? And what do thoughts of cross dressing look like on a person's expression? Eh, doesnt matter. It is a silly thing though that this last thing was an afterhtought instead of the meat of the deliberations I had following his comment: How did he know I was marvelously gifted in girth and length? I guess I might have not noticed the effect that the fine cheerleader rear might of had upon my sheath-area. Oh well... I think I would look good in those sparse outfits anywaysies. My fine tail and thighs look hot in every clothing item imaginable.
The drive home was marvelous, I ate beans and vienna sausages, and eased my work swollen paws on my fine hot-thighs the whole car ride home. Thankfully, I had managed to hitch with a homie.. Being driven around with a friend is quite an endearing thing to me. Calm company in as relaxing environment as the interior of a vehicle is surely a fine source of deriving the much praised feeling of camaraderie. Sadly, the context itself is most unknown as such a wonderful way to silently grow comfortable around some one. Well... It seems friends would make any situation feel good; whether it is pissing off the savage natives, looking through a magazine to fulfill one's kinks, or merely sitting in a moving vehicle together for five to six hours... I think a friend makes everything seem much more pleasant. Eh, Immah go vore a dolphin ;3. Kudos to those who know the reference. Further happies now that all my friends know what I did this weekend.

I often nom on the idea of whether or not it is appropriate to act like a total spazzy excited ferret in front of some people. The idea of finding a selection of people to not act like my favorite thing is rather difficult to comprehend though! Easy as it is to find people to slot into the 'not appropriate to be silly round' section of seats... I sure dont find myself comfortable unless I am spazzing joyfuly. There is a certain congruence in another simular idea though; that of judgeing your audience in the first place (Yeah I am so awesome I think of people as an audience; it's totaly not a figure of speach. ;3)
I see a lot of people acting like asses or brats, and wonder whether or not I should take this into consideration when I hear stuff from them. After all, I am absolutely ridiculous most of the time; why would anyone listen to me along those lines? I think about assigning conditions like 'this guys a fucking dick' or 'this one's a prude ass', and sometimes even 'I adore this bloody kitteh'. After a little while of pondering, I find myself wondering why I give a damn what people are in the first place. I mean... A mean person could be nice to me right? Just like a best friend could make meh wanrah get some more piercings (In a sexy spot, like a pro.) When I think of this, I find myself thinking that establishing conditions to view certain people in... is as foolish as closing your mind to prejudice. Despite it's seemingly efficient and lovely easing of slotting things into a rational place in your mind, it just doesn't seem righty for me to do.
There is so much shit spewed from all these people who are constantly fed bullshit, it's pretty tempting to keep your attention low after a lame high-horse impression; but I think I might not be judging people's ideas by my opinions anymore, just the merit of the idea itself. Still though, this leaves a final question: why judge some one in the first place if you are just going to treat their ideas and words with equal respect equivalent to every one else's?
Notice that taking some one's words at face value does not imply thinking any different of that asshole who's proven his-or-her(HIR?) self to be a dick. Immah only suggesting keeping your ears perked for good stuff... Not forgetting the place people have put themselves in, be they kind and dear friends, or total dicks in a blue waffle of stuck-to-the-sheets pain.
Let's see how being a free-idea hippy interacts with my normally bad ass 'I don't give a damn what you have to say prude!' attitude. Aheehee :3!

I happened to be eating an apple at one point in my life. It was a delecious apple.. But then a butt-uggleh worm crawled out of one of my chomp marks. I asked him, "What the fuck are you doing nomming up in my apple, homes?!"
He of course was offended by my foul language and semi-ghetto demeanor, so his little wormy self grew less pinkish and more reddish in the face, and was all like, "This aint your apple, boy. You don't know better, but I am here to tell you that it's not."
I was taken aback! I knew not what to say... Who was I to say that my words meant more than this worm's, or that I had more of a right to say who's apple this was? As I grew a little chilled out while thinking about this, the worm relaxed a bit, too. He obviously saw that he was about to have a discussion with a reasonable ferret, I guess. I was at a loss though.. How was I to simply say, "Nah, you are wrong. This is my %#@$in apple, sir." There was nothing to say to back that up ^^.
He saw the indecision in my face, and decided to make his move, "Well son, tell you what. This is a big apple to me, even though it's just a couple of bites for you. How bout' you let me have this here apple, on account of the fact that it would benefit me more than thou?"
I was almost convinced, when I realized that nothing he had said should have had any effect on the fact that there was a worm in this apple I had really been enjoying eating in peace up till that point. So, against seemingly impeccable logic, I found a very silly and smart-ass response to give that worm, "I am not in the mood for taking shit from a worm, I am here to enjoy an apple. You can fuck off kind sir."
The worm left, because I started clicking my thumb and foreclaw like they were pincers. Perhaps I was wrong to assume the fact that he was bothering me was a fine enough justification for gently asking him to leave. I don't think so though.. I had been enjoying myself, but his reason clearly showed me just how much of a difference that apple would have made in our very different lives. I guess maybe I should have not been a dick.. I am okay with it though. I even still speak with many of the worm's friends like I was never cruel either ^^. Immah boss. It was my God-given right to assume I was above this worm, for any reason I felt was religiously justifiable. Yeeeeah Immah boss! I eat apples better anyway.

Seams as though a lot of odd things has happened since my last post.. So much. I guess you gotta expect a lot to happen in two months if you are a zany ferret in between your ears! So, what the hell am I going ot talk about? Poems, mebe. Naaaaah Immah only biWINNING, not all-the-way-gay. I do have some news though. I have finnaaaaally got school sports done, which was making my bed time way to early for my hot-thighs to handle. So Immah haz mooore time to jump around, and moooar time to do odd things. Less kinky, moar artsy.
Thaz right, Immah got some art cheeseburgers for my kittens. Me and a very audacious and naughty 'female-wolf' (A total give away for his trany self) haz got plans for making a bit of a website, and prolly some scams to steal all the money from the furry communi(sm)ty. I amz going to be actually drawing things I am not ashamed for my friends to see too, so I might upload some stuff up on here. Happy days, happy days. And porn, yeah.
In other more interesting news than my life, crabs (Like, the crabs on a beach. Not those crabs crawling in between your legs, perv.) can crawl really really fast. And they nip on your fingers with so much of an energetic furvor, that you just have to cry.... Because you know some one cares when they give that much of his or her effort towards you. Those crabs, they can slice your fingers and make you cry for days over the stinging excrement they shoot up in the parted flesh. But hey, that;s what crabs do, right? No need to hate on them. It is perfectly fine to feel justified in not harboring resentment towards crabs, for just doing what they feel is natural. Even when they slice your friend's fingers off, aheeheeheeaahaahaa! Insanity, double-plus-good.
In the end, I am glad I has friends who care; it is so rare, and it is a gift from God that I am blessed with so many of them. A couple are even those types you stay close friends with well into adulthood, and likely for life. Thanks to all who are kind to me. Hope my upcoming art pleases yoosies.

Yes! At a transexual wolf's house last weekened (Nirashi! Yeayuh!), and was able to accompany her on her families lovely holiday get-together. It was so funny... we drove from the ghetto to some super country sort of place. A big nice house, chock full of those sorts of scary country folkses who just love to bash gays, has sax roughly with the idea of not talking like a super-southern ya'll, and also... theys lurv them some football!
I walked in, and there was a football game on, and real bloody loud toos it was. Some rather muscular and intimidating college looking white trash were jumping up and down in front of the blaring wide screen TV's potrayal of football glory. An overbearing looking old lady was fussing around everybody who was getting some food from the smorgeshboard of sexy looking grease-choked southern style dishes that were strewn all about the kitchen. And there was cookies! After I ran around and air slapped on some ass, which is an awfully intimidating thing to do around steroid abusing men who are on college football teams, I hooked myself and Nirashi with some freaking cookies. They tasted su sexy!
I had been so brave, and stoleded su many cookies from under that mean old ladies nose (I putsed them in mine jackets pockets!), that both of Nirashi's brothers came over to the table over in the corner that me and her had sneakded off to. We commenced to have a discussion over whether or not tank-tops were a manly sort of thing to wear... I was on the side of the tank-tops, but somehow I think I ruined its chances when I compared the joys of wearing a wife-beater with those of cross dressing. "Its almost as exposing and sexy feeling as wearing a tube top, but you dont even have to have a bra on too!" I guess you guys know who spokded that quote.
Afterwards, we all had food and pie and stuff. We said a prayer, tried our best to cut in line, and nommed. My faverite was the coffee I filched that I poured several peoples used lemonade dregs into. Yay!
Then the cooler peepz came out with me and Nirashi's dad to listen to the power of dub through a special project of Mr Nirashi's Dad. Such a pimped out car... The trunk and back seat is one big sound-system settup. Its pretty sweet when you run some really loud dub through it... which we did XD. Hurray for the Ghetto Blaster! Not much else happened, aside from me being very naughty and making to many jokes about the deer horn Christmas tree that our host was showing off pretty hard in the corner. Horney!
I really know how to make some stuffy pricks feel odd. Its even better when they are volotile and have dominance issues. Yay for helping to wind peepz up even tighter!

Neeur ones got to be afraid of standing up to cunts, teachers, or various males, if they happen to be a popular and succesful ass-hat such as... this guy I see at school. How is it that a fellow always seems to be looking in at surch things? No matter how hard one feels up a grade, (making it go hiiiigher.... XD) is politesy, or knows the right hoes, it is only a matter of luck it seems, to wind up in the position of those lucky some. Never fear though, for I haz answers are hear.
One must simply kiss ass and suck cockenheimer till thine lips are absolutely shiney in order to fulfil the requirments to obtain a position simular to the succesful one described above. Regretably, the nature of the benefits gained using this method of advancement are rather subby. One will never feel more than a beetch, or a wet, used up whore. Or summin equaly demeaning.
Like a pear.

AH! Three days ago at work, I was having a bit of trouble. You see, my friend and I made a very obvious sort of mistake, and purchased some horrible and delicious fried chickins from a skanky sort of gas station "food tray." Of course, I was lifting a bunch of heavy shyte, as usual, but the process was a disgusting example of why one must never purchase chikins or other assorted meats (we got corn dogs and mystery burritos too) from a filthy ghetto gas station.
My gas was palpable. The disgust I felt was magnified by the extreme heat of each expulsion. So much for holding them in... Every time I bent over to heft some sort of heavy object, like a horrible bag of industrial garbage, or a dead cat, my abs just tensed so affectionately around muh guts that there just had to be some sort of equally loving and caring response. So the air around me was pretty shitteh.
So there happens to be a really supah dupah ultra mega hitting up on me all the time princessy black fellow who works the heavy lifting department with me. I could tell he was getting a strong dose of muh medicine, for his face kept twitching in that pained sort of expression one excludes when the body encounters soomtin naturally vile. So I approached him with the intention of apologizing; it turned out to be just another example of him being suggestive with me though. "Hey man, urh... sorreh aboot that smell, it happens toos be coming from-" At this point he interrupted me with that silly, spazy sort of expression I have come to expect from his gay old self.
He was like, "Yeah I know... its from your freend!" His brain paused for a little 'teehee,' then he continued with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows, "Mmmmhr! Smell that ass to eh?"
I was of course instantly taken aback, and was speechless except for a slightly timid sounding "I uh guess sooos..." He just winked his rather unfeminine eyebrows at me, and as he bent over to pick up some more heavy shyt, flexed his gym pumped buttocks rather strenuously. I did not fart so much after that... butthole was cleeenched so thouroughly it hurt.

Well, howdie too you all! Yes, that is so unreasonably southern as to defy logic, but I just said it anyways... just foe you guys. Alrighty then, on to serious stuff. Most of my artwork (coming soon, just need to scratch 'my' money out of some stingey pockets) is not that great, but nevertheless, Ima shove it into your field of vision. More easily ingested when its forced, if you know what I mean. Also, I really enjoy thinking, and will be posting many of my thoughts and opinions in this lovely profile, for additional indegestion on ALL of your lovely parts. Okays, you know the system now... Happy reading!

Well, hello there fellows; and ladies of course. Ima nice guy, I struggle with depression, I make good grades in school, and ima asshat. Noaw you alls know quite a bit aboot old moi.
On the state of my page, it is something that will soon be pretteh, so.... yes, I suppose. Have a nice night then, and try not to be an asshat yourself, it is really inappropriate, and actually verah naughty.