| Revenge |
[Sep. 3rd, 2004|12:43 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  relieved | ] |
| [ | music |
| | bears listen to trees sometimes | ] |
Sometimes in the life of a bear, one needs to know how to get revenge. This is particularly the case when someone wrongs a bear. The ultimate revenge is of course, ripping off the head of one enemy, but I'm a bear in a human society, never will there be a case where there is a human in a bear society, precisely because humans could never rip the head off a bear with their mouthes.
As a bear, my fishing spot is very important to me. I had a great one, plenty of fish all summer long. One day, I noticed jet skis on my fishing spot, scaring all my fish away. Instinctually I wanted to bite their heads off, but knowing that wouldn't fly, I did nothing.
A few weeks later, I was at the pharmacy, I noticed one of the water skiers in line for there prescription. I thought this would be a good opportunity to invoke revenge. I managed to switch their allergy prescription for deadly poisonous spiders, which I have an infestation in my fur. The results of my revenge, one jet skier dead, one happy bear. |
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| Soap Box of Bears |
[Jun. 30th, 2004|01:21 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  complacent | ] |
| [ | music |
| | In the Shadows - Children of Bodom (bears only like metal) | ] |
Some days for bears are better than others. While my bear family was fairly well off, we owned our house in south Minneapolis, we were not accepted into society at large. Apparently, money doesn't buy acceptance, only a lack of fur does. While I was a young cub I once played with a few neigborhood children. We were all having a good time, but when their parents saw me, they chased me away and called the police! I didn't play with children ever again.
Eventually, I found acceptance, but I had to deny my bear heritage. I had to pretend to be human. I felt as if I belonged finally, but still, I felt as if by denying my bear heritage, I was murdering a small paire dog (the ultimate disgrace in bear society). Eventually the guilt was too much to bear, and I went back to my roots. I got hired to work on a huge ship, sailing on the open seas, catching fish and selling them at port. The hours were long, the labor was hard and dangerous, but at least I wasn't a sell out.
Then I had a revelation that being a sell out was merely a matter of pride, and that pride had no place in an advance society. I went back to Minneapolis, and got a job working for the (hu)man. |
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| Coffee |
[Mar. 4th, 2004|11:02 pm] |
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Coffee has never been a friend of this bear. Some bears like coffee, and I can understand it, but I don't like it. Coffee houses are the bane of my existence. I get so bored at them. When I was a cub, my mother would buy me a koala cookie, and they were tasty, but other than that I hated them. This is not to say that I haven't given them a chance. I've spent many hours in them, most of my early memories in someway involve a coffee house, I even worked in one briefly! But I've always liked them. I guess that makes me a masochistic bear. |
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| Hotels |
[Feb. 4th, 2004|03:46 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  contemplative | ] |
| [ | music |
| | bears don't listen to music | ] |
Bears don't often stay at hotels. Bears are very picky about what kind of bed they sleep on. Some like them hard, some like them, soft, others like them just right. It's hard finding a hotel that has all three kinds of beds. Nonetheless, I've stayed at my share of hotels.
My favorite hotel would have to be the Luxor. Not only does it sound like a superman villian, but it looks like a pyramid. In some of the rooms, the wall with the window slants inwards, because it's a pyramid. It was a little creepy though, because it was also a casino. All the windows were tinted so you couldn't tell what time it was.
After that, I would say Days Inn Lincoln Park (Chicago). The room was decent, the food was good, and the lobby was awesome. Also, that area of chicago was pretty good.
This bear has had a lot of troubles with Motel 6s. They're cheap, but they often have something wrong with them (like the floor always being wet, or really disgusting mattresses). |
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| My beginings |
[Feb. 4th, 2004|02:34 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  nostalgic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | bears don't listen to music | ] |
It all started when I was born in the woods of northern Minnesota. I was such a cute cub. I was a fat cub though. I'm not sure how I could move. But it didn't matter. Most people in Minnesota had come to accept bears as a helpful part of society, so it wasn't that strange when my family moved to Minneapolis. My dad had landed a job at the local meat market. He knew his meats, and everyone knew it. Growing up, everyone would come up to me and say, "Your dad knows more about meats than anyone I've ever met." |
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