I meant to leave a couple days ago for Tennessee, but as I was readying my unicycle, I received a most considerate offer from a chap across the pond named Heir Bear.
To make a long story short, his great uncle Sir Millionaire Bear was a honey magnate in England. Upon his death, through some legal fiddle-faddle, the Queen expropriated his apiaries.
I’m not sure how he found me of all bears, but Heir Bear offered to cut me in on a sizeable portion of the honey yield if I would help finance his lawsuit by transferring the deeds to a couple thousand acres of Warren County’s forests to his financial institution of choice, Bear Stearns.
Needless to say, I leapt at the opportunity. As I landed, my foot sunk into a groundhog hole, spraining my ankle.
I was not displeased because I knew this would warrant a visit from the very lovely Dr. Mary Bear. Now I’m not one to let my mouth run, though I must convey that Mary harvested a sweet batch of honey whilst I pollinated her flower.
Later on, as the orchestra swelled, she shed a few tears and promised to wait for me to return from my deployment to Tennessee so that we could be wed.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Thursday, July 12, 2007
7.13.07 - If there is a bear
I read the letter from my dad today, and I am concerned about his mental health. Mom always said he was a right-wing bear – he was featured in a 1984 Reagan ad – but now he has become a paranoid conspiracy theorist too. He thinks the government is tracking him with ear tags and collars. This has gone too far.
"Harry,
"I haf’nt writen too you since I lefd 11 yers ago because I never really likked you, you wer an axident, but a few nites ago i was out carowsing with my possum frends eting mushrumes off the forest floor, past a point I ca’nt rememember anything but I woke up in a kettle of a streme filled with chunks of ice, the goverment stole my kidny to sell on the black marcket and now they’re funnelling money to Hillary Clinton Bear and the United Nations, the Black Helicopters are flying all around me, some spooks from the forest service are spying on me too, their monitering me with tags they put in my ear and a coller around my neck, i think they stuck some sort of device up my ass, i hate the government, and I’m warning you to be on the look out for forest servis assholes.
"Your dad,
"John Birch Bear"
I must go to Tennessee and get him into a nursing home before he hurts someone.
"Harry,
"I haf’nt writen too you since I lefd 11 yers ago because I never really likked you, you wer an axident, but a few nites ago i was out carowsing with my possum frends eting mushrumes off the forest floor, past a point I ca’nt rememember anything but I woke up in a kettle of a streme filled with chunks of ice, the goverment stole my kidny to sell on the black marcket and now they’re funnelling money to Hillary Clinton Bear and the United Nations, the Black Helicopters are flying all around me, some spooks from the forest service are spying on me too, their monitering me with tags they put in my ear and a coller around my neck, i think they stuck some sort of device up my ass, i hate the government, and I’m warning you to be on the look out for forest servis assholes.
"Your dad,
"John Birch Bear"
I must go to Tennessee and get him into a nursing home before he hurts someone.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
7.6.07 - There were fireworks
July 4th was a blast, a bust, and a bang. In that order.
Ralph has a lot of experience with fireworks, so I agreed to let him do the honors. On my count, he launched the first batch.
I should have realized that fireworks would also send me into the flashback of my childhood run-in with the hunters. In my dream, I felt the bullet hit my leg, but this time, I turned around and dove on top of the hunter and his gun. When I woke up, I had a big hole in my side where the fireworks had exploded.
To my delight, Dr. Mary Bear was tending to my wounds once again. I gazed deep into her eyes, as brown as nutrient-rich dirt.
“I’ve been seeing too much of you recently,” she quipped.
“Well, you can see a lot more if you’d like.”
She did. I’ll leave the rest to your imaginations, though I would like to add that some more fireworks went off, and again, I was blown away.
On another note, I received a letter from my estranged father today. After mom gave up her combination-diner-and-adult-video-store outside of Hackettstown and ran away, never to be heard from again, my father went off the deep end and moved down to Tennessee. This is the first time he has contacted me since he left eleven years ago.
Ralph has a lot of experience with fireworks, so I agreed to let him do the honors. On my count, he launched the first batch.
I should have realized that fireworks would also send me into the flashback of my childhood run-in with the hunters. In my dream, I felt the bullet hit my leg, but this time, I turned around and dove on top of the hunter and his gun. When I woke up, I had a big hole in my side where the fireworks had exploded.
To my delight, Dr. Mary Bear was tending to my wounds once again. I gazed deep into her eyes, as brown as nutrient-rich dirt.
“I’ve been seeing too much of you recently,” she quipped.
“Well, you can see a lot more if you’d like.”
She did. I’ll leave the rest to your imaginations, though I would like to add that some more fireworks went off, and again, I was blown away.
On another note, I received a letter from my estranged father today. After mom gave up her combination-diner-and-adult-video-store outside of Hackettstown and ran away, never to be heard from again, my father went off the deep end and moved down to Tennessee. This is the first time he has contacted me since he left eleven years ago.
Monday, July 2, 2007
7.3.07 - ... and the Pursuit of "Flash 'n Bash"
As you all know, tomorrow is the 4th of July, which can only mean one thing: EXPLOSIONS! I decided to get in on the festivities and hop a riverboat to PA to buy some illegal fireworks.
I stopped by The Rusty Rudder, a dingy watering hole where I knew I would find the master boatman, Ferry Bear. After some finagling, he agreed to get me across.
Once there, I walked into the fireworks store and asked for a “Fort Knox,” a “Dazzling Diamond Fountain,” and a “Flash ‘n Bash” before the guy behind the counter said, “Whoa there Chester. You’re a bear! I can’t sell fireworks to a bear. I don’t have that kind of license!”
Demoralized, I sauntered out to the parking lot where I lay despondent on the curb. Had everyone but me forgotten the true meaning of July 4th? The inalienable right to blow shit up?
NO! Just as I was about to give up all hope, an old drunk stumbled past. I accosted him, and without hesitation, he agreed to buy me my fireworks.
With a heart full of love and arms full of explosives, I crossed the Delaware to New Jersey, just as George Washington had done 230-and-a-half years earlier.
I stopped by The Rusty Rudder, a dingy watering hole where I knew I would find the master boatman, Ferry Bear. After some finagling, he agreed to get me across.
Once there, I walked into the fireworks store and asked for a “Fort Knox,” a “Dazzling Diamond Fountain,” and a “Flash ‘n Bash” before the guy behind the counter said, “Whoa there Chester. You’re a bear! I can’t sell fireworks to a bear. I don’t have that kind of license!”
Demoralized, I sauntered out to the parking lot where I lay despondent on the curb. Had everyone but me forgotten the true meaning of July 4th? The inalienable right to blow shit up?
NO! Just as I was about to give up all hope, an old drunk stumbled past. I accosted him, and without hesitation, he agreed to buy me my fireworks.
With a heart full of love and arms full of explosives, I crossed the Delaware to New Jersey, just as George Washington had done 230-and-a-half years earlier.
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