For example, there isn't a man alive who has not drawn out the plans to either rob a bank or an armored car at least once in their lives (because deep down, all men believe themselves capable of pulling off a caper). Or that hasn't walked into a room full of strangers and taken a brief moment to give the room a quick size up (In order to determine the order by which he would have to take them out, in order of size and perceived threat, should any shit happen to go down).
We think about fucking, naval strategy, scouting locations to drag our families to in order to have a proper last stand should Zombies or the tyrannical government turned against it's people scenarios happen to come up....
Oh and fighting animals. We think about fighting animals a lot as well...
When animals attack...
So my chick, bless her sweet simple heart, has been completely obsessed with this video of the old people being shagged by black bears at some national park (Yellowstone, I think. I could be sure and check it with the Google but currently I'm all sorts of zooted thanks to the Percocet prize the Wisdom tooth fairy gave me and speaking this into my iPhone while I work the complexities of smoking dope while not giving myself dry socket... If I'd have worked this hard at schooling, I would be far better off...) .
So anyways, she's all freaked out, watching videos night after night after night. Just video after video of bears. Bears fighting, bears eating, bears fishing, bears causing all sorts of mayhem. Each video, with our yearly summer time trip to a cabin in early June (which, by the way, is an amazing deal and super cool. Look into it.) followed by a weekend camping trip with the kids later in August already weighing heavy in her worry wart mind, had her crawling up the walls; her mind only seeing her precious family being molested by these vicious machines of pure consumption.
Now, wisely, she usually keeps concerns of this nature to herself; knowing it better to keep my mind free to worry about grander things like chem trails and my various blood feuds with alien abductees. But it finally reached a breaking point while watching these clips of some jackass sitting in a clear cube watching bears maul a dummy as she scanned the intertubes for reports of bear sightings both near our home and in our various vacation destinations; her fears needing to be addressed by her mate.
"God... Bears are freaking scary..." She opened, her eyes bouncing between videos of attacks and reports of black bears digging in trash.
"And they are all over the place. Bears in Lutz. Bears in Dade City. Fucking bear attack in Blue Ridge. Another in panhandle...." She kept on like this for a bit, droning on as I tried to avoid commenting. I've learned it's better to just ignore these flights into the paranoia (lest we be called an unfeeling asshole because we're not as paranoid).
"Oh god! That would be so fucking scary!" She said, poking for response as she slapped my arm and pointed at her phone; a bear chasing two rednecks down the street.
"My god... My god... I mean what can you do? What can you do...." She said, surely visualizing herself being chased to death by the flesh starved bears.
"You sure as shit don't run away from them." I finally reply, hardly looking towards her as I kept watching TV.
"Oh really? You see a big ass black bear like that come headed at you and you don't run away?"
"Nope." I reply, pausing the TV.
"A bear can outrun you, so running away from it is the wrong idea. Only food runs from bears. You stand your ground with a bear."
"You stand off to a bear? Bullshit."
"Nope. You stare down a bear, you look big, and you make loud noises. But you don't run."
"You're a liar. A bear would kick your ass if you stared at it."
"No. It would growl. It would stamp his feet. But he won't attack. Deep down, bears are big, lazy dogs, so they don't sweat anything. As long as you're not fucking with them, all they need is your respect. And to a bear, that means standing there and grumbling."
I pause, lighting a joint before continuing...
"Besides, if that bear made a move at me I'd kick his ass."
I didn't say this braggingly or in a kidding tone. I said it as though I was telling her my name or the color of the sky.
"Yes. I'd knock the shit out of a bear."
"Bear the animals, not the tubby, hairy gays..."
"Yes. If a bear steps to me, I'll knock his bitch ass out."
She gives me a look, like I just told her my dick was a foot long and covered in rainbow colored feathers.
"I'm not saying I'm a big, tough guy. I'd be willing to wager any man with average strength and has some basic know.edge of how to fight could knock out a bear if they wanted to..."
"Easy. See, bears are the apex predator anywhere they wander into. They are big. They are strong..."
"Claws, teeth, thick ass hides... All the reasons why you can't knock one out, you shit talking jerk."
"But they are also untested... Paper fucking tigers strolling along not ever expecting someone to wanna go
throwing hands with them. Just the idea of that alone strikes them off- which is why you don't run away from them. But ok... He doesn't run away. He growls, he gets up all goofy on his hind legs cause deep down bears wanna be men, and he does that silly bear walk towards to with his dukes up like a 1920s prize fighter... Now everyone knows that bears will always lead with their right. Every single time. Knowing that, once Winnie finally waddles over and throws that clumsy genetically telegraphed right of his, you slip it, throw a nice hard left to counter on that wide open jaw and cap it with a hard knee to that stupid snout. Bing, bang, boom... Bear ends up ass over end."
"And you know this how..."
"Research. Like I said, it's a fact that bears always throw a right."
"And that means you can beat one up..."
"I never said I'd get it to tap. I ain't gonna wrestle the motherfucker. And I ain't telling you I could put out a Grizzly or a Kodiak or any of those big fuckers Indians and Scotsmen would make legends out of... I'm talking those skinny Florida and Georgia black bears and maybe those Chinese bears that look poorly drawn.... I'm pretty sure I could knock them out too."
"All because they lead with their right..."
"Yes ma'am. I hit them, they hit the floor."
My chick sat quiet for a bit, surely marinating for a while over the knowledge I just laid upon her. I'm sure she was thinking how safe she would now feel, going off into the woods knowing her he-man protector was there ready to knock out bears if need be.
But her playful heads sake dissuaded any hopes I had of reaching her; a light chuckle cracking from her lips.
"My husband, the bear fighter..." She said with a sigh.
"Yea," I finally acknowledged, hesitating a little before sticking my neck out.
"So tell me, Davey Crockett... Now what happens if the bear you knock out happens to be backed up by a few ride or die bullfrogs that ain't too pleased about seeing their bear friend laid out like a punk. Oh what do you do then..." She tossed out. She knew my weaknesses, this harpy... Knew how to cut me deep.
"I never said nothing about fighting frogs. Just said I could knock a bear out..."
"Fighting bears but a frog makes you squeamish.... "
"Bears have bones and aren't slimy or have weird bug eyes and give you warts. Fuck that, frogs suck."
"Scared of a little green frog but wants to throw hands with a black bear..."
"Don't think cause I won't touch one of those little green fucks, I won't punt the shit outta it. Kicked one over the fence the other night... Snuck up on me out of the dark, so I screamed and kicked it."
"That was you screaming like that? I thought P-Nut was having bad dreams again."
No, it was me screaming cause a frog jumped at me while I peed out in the yard. Taught that little fuck a thing or two in manners."
"You kicked a frog?!?!"
"Well yea, he scared me."
"A frog scared the bear fighter..."
I stared silent for a few beats, not knowing what to say.
"It was one of the green booger looking ones."
"I can't believe you... Kicking a frog?"
I wasn't sure how I had ended up in the losing side but somehow I had; needing to now justify my self defense from a frog because of my claims to be able to knock out a bear,
I tried to explain myself a little more, but my wife finally bored of this banter and rolled over for bed.