A Guide to Bears, by Bears

Inspired by this Eugene Mirman geniousnessness.

Ok "fellow" humans, here are the things you should know if confronted by a bear - unlike me, who is human - in a park or yard or conveniently in a den. Things you should do include:

• Throw your camera on the ground when you run away. Expensive electronics are VERY distracting to "those" bears. They are not distracted by things that need chargers because there are no plugs in the woods.
• Don't throw your food down unless it's a vegetarian calzone. Or baklava.
• Wave your arms around and talk words loudly so its clear you are not a bear. No way a bear would interact with a non-bear. Other animals don't have arms to wave so that will clearly scare the bear.
• When bears charge, that's usually a bluff. Call them on it. Be all like "what?" as you push your chest out. They will be like "whatevs" and go away.
• Bears cannot run downhill. It's too scary. How would that even work? Just walk slowly down the hill with your back to the bear. It's cool. He'll fall all overhimself and you'll be safe in your car soon. Downhill... I shudder at the thought.
  
• Don't crowd the bear. Bears have space issues. Close talkers should not hike.
  
• Don't give bears handouts. They stop foraging for food and teach their cubs to beg for food instead of getting their own. Bears should learn self-reliance. I made it this far with only hard work and a trust fund. So can they. Fucking bears.
  
• If a bear doesn't hear you, yell at him. Tell him your there. That'll not only clearly identify you as a human, but also scare him with your masterful use of words. I suggest just telling him all the things you have in your bag. Like "Hello bear, I have a sandwich and a iPhone. I also have $300. I'm just going to walk by you."
  
• Some experts say that bears don't attack those who surrender. That is great advise. Under UN guideline XXVI, bears don't attack non-military individuals who have surrendered.
  
• If you do surrender, just make your surrender obvious. Lay on the ground. Bears have a different way of showing surrender. If you baste yourself with mustard, you will clearly have surrendered. You win. Congrats.

The Institute

"Hello and thank you all for joining us on this blustery day in Vermont. I'm proud to appear before you today to help cut the ribbon on a project I have dreamed about for years. Governor, thank you for agreeing to come and cut the ribbon - I guess I don't need to show you how to do that do I, eh? Ha Ha Ha.

"Today I would like to welcome you all to the first day of the Institute of Awesomeness. This has long been a focus of mine, a vision I had since childhood. As you know, the institute will be the official sactioner of all things kick ass.

"Briefly, the genesis of this can be found in the way awesomeness is designated these days. Willy nilly. That is not acceptible. Yes, we have the 1st amendment defending free speech, but we do not have a free awesomeness amendment - and I will fight to the death any ACLU-loving liberal who wants one! Thus, I will take the reigns and work tirelessless to restore traditional American values of awesomeness.

"At the dawn of this new era, I have already chosen some of our leading staffers and plan to continue to search high and far for talented, commited individuals to defend our traditional values. In the meantime, let me take just a second to introduce to you our initial senior staff.

"Andy Barnard will be the first head of the 'Funny but Tasteless' division of the Institute. He thought, and I quote, 'Borat was the bomb.' Sandra Bobanna will run our 'Silliness' division and will initially help out with the 'Shows about Pain' division as we search for a qualified leader there. Sandra trips constantly and finds it hysterical. Lastly, Ryan Traylor will head up our 'Chicks' divisions. He comes with a stunning resume and I feel he will be an excellent member of this team.

"Anyway, that is our team. That is our mission. Thank you all for coming and thank you for your support. Governor, let's cut that ribbon."

Coffee break

It's getting boring being unemployed. So, in an effort to add a jult of excitement to my day, I just finished off an entire pot of strong black coffee myself. I figured at the time that that would make things move quickly and I'd be employed faster. No such luck. Excuse me a second. I need to call back some guy about a job...

"Hi, is this Jim?"

"Well, thanks for calling me. It sounds like an interesting opportunity. How soon are you looking to fill the position?"

"Ok, well, I think I'd fit the post pretty well. I have managerial experiance and frankly, I think I could do very well in this post."

"Oh thanks. I've heard good things about your organization. This is sort of random, but last night I was dreaming about a trip - not a really one, a dream one - and my mom was yelling at me then I saw this hot chick out the window and... have you ever played scrabble? We should play sometime you seem like you'd be good at it and I think it'd be fun we could get some beers and just hang out..."

"I could do that. I handled similar situations in my last job and I think I did an ok job. Well, there was this one time I became a bit pissed at one of my coworkers but he deserved it. Have you ever punched a wall? It hurts. It doesn't bust through like in the movies unless it's hollow behind the sheet rock which it isn't usually and you can't really know unless you test it before hand but punching a wall is really like an impulse thing and testing it doesn't really seem to make sense there was this one time I found a dollar on the street and I went in to the store to get a juice but all they had was sodas so I bought one but I was belching forever afterwards do you have that problem with sodas too?"

"Ok, well do you want to set up a time to sit down and talk about how I might be able to help the firm?"

"Right, ok, I'll wait for your call then. Thanks."

mall man

So Sammy and I were hangin' at the mall last week, all sorts of badass. We were like "Yo!" to these fine honeys who were like 14 but were totally going to be hot in like 10 years. Dude, but someone last week was all up in my grill about this. They were like "only chicks and skate punks hang at the mall. What are you, like 15?" Dude, I'm all of 27 and totally built, ie I'm 100% d-u-d-e. No filler, no preservatives, not watered down. All dude.

So what if Sammy and I ran through Filenes (real deal, not that basement bullshit). We were playing perfume tag. He was so it when I sprung from behind the Calvin Klein display armed only with guile and a bottle of Obsession. Man, you should have seen the tears running from his burning eyes. Afterwards, we were all over Pacific Sunwear where we picked up some sweet shirts to show off our youthful angst.

I'm 27. I'm a dude. I live on Sbarros. So? What? You wanna make something of it?

I thought so...

The Club

"Hi George."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Steven. We're so glad you made it. We'd been keeping an eye on you for while."

George looks around, realizing he's surrounded by only old men, like himself. "Oh my God, I'm dead aren't I. Shit, Sylvia had been telling me to lay off those damned donuts for ions. I'm so bullheaded. How did it happen? How did I go? Oh God I hope I didn't have a heart attack while farting or something. Tell me for Christ's sake."

"George, please, calm down. You're not dead. You're just in the club now."

"The club, what the hell are you talking about?"

"The club. Haven't you ever noticed that in the gym, all old men walk around naked constantly? We stretch, we scratch, we hold our towels by our sides as if to say 'I could be using this, but I chose not to.' As younger men tie their shoes, they're made uncomfortable our shriveled manhood inches from their ears. They wonder why a man would want to walk around naked. The answer: they're in the club."

"So, I get to walk around naked now? What if I don't want to?"

"Sorry, you have to. All old men must be naked whenever they're around only other men. It's not a gay thing. It's completely a-sexual. You'll find, in time, that you too will be endlessly entertained by the quickness with which the 'clothed kind' seek out the furthest sink from our naked tooth brushing. Believe me, you'll love the new freedom."

"You're weird."

"Ok, I can live with that. Now go to the gym and drop your short shorts."

Say Hello to Your Very Own: Fall River Rusty Nails

Alright boys. I'm so happy to see so many young, excited faces around this table today. As you know, we're about to put together the first major league baseball team in the HISTORY, the glorious history (storied? perhaps) of Fall River, Mass. Mr. Selig has shown a great deal of trust and vision in seeing that this town is ready for a comeback. But don't call it that. For I've been here for years. Ha ha ha, now really let's get out of Compton and back to business.

Time to spitball some ideas. The first season is just months away and you've seen our schedule. The fact that our best pitcher is amazing, breathtaking, truly spellboundly in his complete lack of talent, doesn't bode well for our prospects of "winning." So, I've been thinking about it and it comes down to marketing. How can we sell this team to the sorry denizens of Fall River? How can we captivate the imagination of youths who grew up in the awesome shadow of Battleship Cove? Ideas, go.

Yes, Jon?
I was thinking that we could paint the stadium the color of argyle so as to bring about a hearken back to the Scottish heritage that Fall River is so...
Nope, we're going to make you the ball girl and dress you up in a tutu.
But I have a MBA from Harva...

Yes, smartass in the uber trendy corduroy blazer?
Uh, it's Matt sir.
Like I give I shit. I had scotch in my cornflakes this morning. So I have that going for me. Speak!
I was thinking that we could have free wireless internet so people can keep track of the box scores of games being played by real teams. Or we could have WEEI on the public address announ...
Or we might not do that. Instead, you'll be major league baseball's first rodeo clown. Keep the bulls away from the outfielders.

Bulls? Sir?

Sam, right? Not that I care. I'm thinking you should be more concerned with your own plight. I'm afraid, son, that you'll have to host the lady's bridge club in right field. Enjoy.

Alright, I'm glad we had this fruitful discussion. Jon, you can pick up your uniform in the equipment room. Be sure to show some skin.

me only cares about me

Do you ever get so pissed off at a buddy that you ponder ripping off all his toenails and spreading them across the floor so he has to step on them because stepping on toenails is annoying and a little painful? If the answer is yes, or if the answer is sort of but you're weird, or if you enjoy cake in the shade of a maple tree on Wednesdays approaching Easter when you worry about Dad's drinking on that holiest of Sundays and Mom's perpensity to throw steaming potatoes at you're young nephews for being "unruly", then you get I.

So I was walking along and came up to me. That bastard barely even acknowledged my existence. What the fuck?!? Me and I had been buddies for as long as I remember. I used to push Me on the swing set until me'd almost get sick (then sometimes I'd keep going anyway!!!!! (rebel? guilty.)) We'd hang out in high school listening to reggae; I and I love that shit. Me and I rarely fought until a couple of weeks ago when Me went for my girl. I was like "buddy, what is this?! that's my girl." And Me was all "don't know what I'm talking about" and shit. I should have punched me right then and there. But now it's on. I am going to kick my ass! Do unto yourself as you would have yourself do unto I. Apparently me didn't get that memo.