Men Are Cretins, But Bears Are Worse

So, yer in a dark forest, yeah...

First, let’s discuss Ganja for a second.

It’s Tuesday, and I’m sitting in the courtyard enjoying the last of the seven grams of homegrown Indica donated by my mate Eddy with the big balls. These days, I treat weed like a holiday from the real world. Once a year, or twice at most, I feel my cannabinoids need topping up, and I cancel life for seven days and just get stoned every waking moment.

I lived that wake-and-bake lifestyle for many years in my twenties. I would become that again if I hadn’t regrettably created some societal life that would inevitably implode should I do so — so I don’t.

I’ve also tried to use weed as a tool for writing. And we all know that potheads regularly find a cure for cancer every Sunday night. It’s just they wake up the next day to find their medical paper is a quarry of unintelligible scrawl. Writing and weed, for me, don’t mix. Or, maybe they do for the first day or two, but three days into my weed holiday, I can hardly even think of what to say to the counter assistant at Baker’s Delight when I’m trying to buy my usual triple-seeded panther loaf with bacon bits. That’s why I cancel my fucking life during my seven-day annual or bi-annual weed holiday.

Okay, so what’s this shit about bears, Frank?

Yeah, yeah. Hold your fucking horses, Tonto.

I just needed to tell ya where I’m at in case ya read this and decide to call 1800 CANCEL and have me shoved in a fridge and dumped at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean by your local feminist mafia. This way, I can just blame the damn weed. That’s right. I’m just on a harmless sensimilla sabbatical. I don’t know what the fuck I’m sayin.

It’s just the weed.

I’m sittin outside with a female friend and she says to me something like, have ya seen that viral social media post about the bears?

And I say, fuck no, I haven’t. Why don’t ya spill the green beans?

And she says, well, they took this survey where they asked women:

Would ya rather be trapped in a dark forest with a strange man or a bear?

And she said that ALL of the women in the survey said they’d rather be trapped with the fuckin bear.

She said they also asked men about their daughters. Something like,

Men, would ya rather yer daughter be trapped in a dark fucking forest with a strange man or a bear?

And she said that ALL of the men said they’d rather their daughters be trapped with the fucking bear than the man. She said that the people would know absolutely nothing about the man. 

And I’m like, well, what about the fuckin bear? Is it a black one or, a brown one, or one of those white bastards? And what was the bear’s upbringing, for God’s sake? Like, did it have alcoholic parents, that kind of crap?

And she said NO. The people know fuck all about the man or the bear.

So I took a long drag on a long spliff, looked up at the pale winter sun, chewed on the smoke, and blew it in a northern direction.

And I came back with my verdict.

What a pile of fucking bearshit

I knew exactly what the goal of the survey was. It was to prove that women see men as fucking dangerous because they have had to live with them their whole lives. And look, I know women put up with a lot of shite from men. And I’m all for the symbolic cutting off of a man’s cock. We have a lot to answer for.

I sometimes find myself leering at a woman in camel skin activewear for slightly too long out of sheer instinct, not for some creepy reason, just enjoying the view, blissfully unaware that she’s thinking,

Is that bearded fuck in the Subaru going to rape me?

I’m working on it. I’m aware of the situation. Men can be utter fucks.

But let’s talk about this bear thing, shall we?

First of all, how dark is the damn forest?

Secondly, WHY did ALL the women choose the bear over the men?

Because a point needed to be proven, you horse-fingerer.

But, in reality, no one with any sense would choose the fucking bear.

You choose the man, and yeah, there is a chance that the man will try and rape you or beat you up or something. But what percentage of men would do that? If it’s more than 10% of men, I would be fucking surprised and disturbed — actual violence and rape. Maybe I’m delusional, and perhaps almost all men would do that. But I fucking doubt it.

And let’s face it, if yer just talking about whether the man would try and convince you to sleep with him, that could be much higher. And yeah, men can look fucking creepy like the Subaru example above, but we are pretty unaware of how we are perceived a good amount of the time. Much of the time, we look dangerous, but we’re just pathetically horny.

For the sake of being conservative, let’s say 50% of all men would commit some kind of violence to a woman in that situation. That still leaves a 50% chance that you’ll get a friendly geek or a jockey or a gay man or, strangely enough, a regular hetro guy that isn’t into raping women.

Now stack that up against the bear, and yer looking pretty fucking good.

What if the bear were also gay? Would it make a difference?

Well fuck no. And this is a significant point. The bear aint gonna fuck ya, Kid. It’s gonna grab ya and eat ya starting with yer fuckin feet. And ya gonna have a front-row seat to this culinary event. Yer gonna watch yerself get eaten alive from the feet up.

And what are the chances of this?

To say 100% is an insult to bears, but it’s probably at least 98%

There’s no asking if the bear is a friendly geek or a jockey. Bears are too big to be jockeys.

It’s a fucking BEAR. There’s no more to be said.

Now, let me ask you again: would you rather be trapped in a dark forest with a strange bear or a strange man?

So I mentioned all this to my friend while consistently insisting that I get the fucking point that was being made.

She said,

Well, at least in the bear situation, no one will question what you are wearing or what you did to provoke it.

Correct. No one will ask that because you’ll be fucking dead, and it will be your fault because you chose the fucking bear (98% chance of being eaten alive) rather than the man (Conservatively speaking, 50% chance he isn’t a violent rapist.)

But Frank, I’m Not a Statistics Person

Well, I get that. And if you chose the bear to go into the forest with your daughter instead of the man, you are not a logical person either.

And that’s just fucking fine because I get the point. The legacy of violence against women has to be stopped. Still, it’s linked to alcohol, poverty, education and, to a large degree, the legacy which abusive men pass down to their sons — the legacy of sport-obsessed, bogan potato-headed future politicians who ‘work hard’ to put their kids into private all-boys schools where the legacy and outlook is refined and drilled into their personality ready for their future wives and kids.

The government will do fuck all because they are too busy doing deals to chuck bombs at children to feed the military-industrial complex. And also because the poisonous legacy is right through the political system.

And the cops will do fuck all because many of them are perpetrators too.

So, what’s to be done, besides coming up with illogical (and probably fictional) social media surveys?

Simple.

Replace all the fucking men in society with bears.

Yeah, that’ll do. Since bears are obviously less violent than men, let’s do that. It will be like Planet of the Apes but with bears.

Planet Of The Bears.

Wait, don’t you mean, Planet of the Bears and Women, Frank, since the women are still there too?

Sure, maybe for six months if yer lucky.

That’s it, I think.

Don’t blame me, you pricks.

It’s just the weed.

Bird out.

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