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It's a purple cat. There's barely anything even remotely humanoid about it. Do furries ever wake up and ask themselves, "what am I willing to get off to today?" Do they ever think that maybe lusting for small animals and bizarre creatures is a habit they should probably try to kick? Do they ever feel pangs of self-regret, or waves of guilt when their sexual high fizzles from their systems and they find themselves dick in hand, staring at a cartoon animal spread eagle on their monitors?
