Bears

Some days you eat the bear. Some days, the bear eats you.

Some days, usually Mondays, the bear tears your clothes off and pushes you down in the frozen mud and fucks you in the ass, and you scream until your lungs come out in bloody chunks.

So, you learn to love his grub-scented dirty breath and his clumsy prehistoric claws, or you get yourself a gun.

I’m just sayin…