We’ve previously perused the Grizzly’s enormous, angry albino cousin, the Polar bear. Those bastards, with their penchant for smiting several shades of shit out of their own cubs and leaving them in a blood-leaking squelchy mess on the Arctic snow -an eyeball, half a bollock and some viscera-splatters were all that remained- was dramatically uncool. Do their brown brothers share this cast-iron reputation for asshole-ism? Presumably, yes, but let’s utilize a little Egotastic! science and/or excessive pisstakery and take a look.
Through the course of Manimals, we’ve learned that manly appears to mean a massive, terrifying entity from the sweaty depths of Satan’s crotch. Webster’s Dictionary does not concur, but screw them. We wave our gonads at Webster’s Dictionary.
As such, the grizzly is eminently worthy of a place. You may have seen a few of these guys while hiking/camping, if you’re foolhardy enough. Bears, as the old adage attests, do crap in the woods, monumental turds they are too (Remember Jurassic Park’s Triceratops? “That’s one big pile of shit.” Yes. Yes it is). Encounters with these hairy-crotched bastards are so commonplace that, in regions such as Yosemite National Park, ‘bear canisters’ are mandatory. When reinforced food cans are required to combat these thieving mofos, you know you’re dealing with a renegade badass from Lucifer’s nutsack.
It is not the wont of bears to surreptitiously purloin your picnic basket, whatever Yogi bear and his anthropo-moron friends may have us believe. These (occasionally) 1,500lb bear-behemoths will stride man-tastically into view, kick a backpacker in their feeble man-genitals and make off with whatever bounty they were carrying. As one Grizzly proclaimed, “Bear canister? Shit to that. You can’t deter a humongous ballistic missile of hair and teeth like me with that kind of frail crap.” It would then pause to give the huge hairy middle finger to the shattered heap of man flesh that remains on the shit-stained forest floor, before ambling off to its cave for a wank.
Because grizzlies, as we know, can be asses like that.
Or rather, they can’t. Grizzlies are another immense beast that are semi-docile if humans refrain from pissing them off. They are still apt to blame the bear, regardless, when it -in an endeavor to defend its young or suchlike- eats their face off. We do have a proclivity, sadly, for shooting these magnificent creatures right in their bare bear-bollocks and wearing their skins, which does little to galvanize harmonious inter-species relations.
These guys also, further fostering their manly status, engage in hibernation. We’ll concede, tedious professor-types (presumably ones with shit-tacular nerdy beards and so forth) contest the term. They do not quite think, “screw this, I’m going to sleep on the couch… for several months. With my dick out,” but we shan’t be pernickety here. They almost do, which should suffice for anyone. Who hasn’t entertained wistful fantasies of doing this? These hairy bastards are living the dudely dream.
What happens when a dumbass photographer encroaches on a righteously-pissed-off mama bear? This happens: