Bear's Choice
So, I'm standing on my front porch in Pennsylvania, surveying the garden, when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. I look in that direction, and see a 200-pound or so bear ambling down my driveway. He (she?) is about 150 feet from me. What to do?
I decide that bears are kind of Brooklyn critters, so the best thing to do is to go all Brooklyn on his ass.
"Yo, yo, wassup?" I shout up the driveway.
He turns slowly and looks at me for several seconds. Then, with no haste, he continues in the direction he was headed.
He begins walking slowly along my stonewall. "Yo, are we cool?" I shout out.
He again turns and stares at me. Very nonchalantly, he continues walking down the wall. He turns and looks back at me a couple of more times, and then heads into the woods.
The lesson to be learned: if you see a bear, go all Brooklyn on his ass. They're basically all from Brooklyn.
I decide that bears are kind of Brooklyn critters, so the best thing to do is to go all Brooklyn on his ass.
"Yo, yo, wassup?" I shout up the driveway.
He turns slowly and looks at me for several seconds. Then, with no haste, he continues in the direction he was headed.
He begins walking slowly along my stonewall. "Yo, are we cool?" I shout out.
He again turns and stares at me. Very nonchalantly, he continues walking down the wall. He turns and looks back at me a couple of more times, and then heads into the woods.
The lesson to be learned: if you see a bear, go all Brooklyn on his ass. They're basically all from Brooklyn.
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