"Death Bear will take things from you that trigger painful memories and stow them away in his cave where they will remain forever allowing you to move on with your life." Call Death Bear this weekend for service in Brooklyn: send texts to 347-742-2293.
Friday, January 8, 2010
42
There's gotta be a virginity joke in there somewhere.
Right? I think we're going for that pussified society High Water mark.
how is this not a balk post?
too painful.
Choire already called Death Bear and had him taken to the cave.
where i guess he gets to live with bears and other people's regrets. perfect.
I'm hoping while he's in there he'll put together a Listicle Without Commentary: Things I Would Send to the Death Bear If Only I Could Get Out Of This Cave.
or a telegram. "please regret more bourbon".
+82,323
Unless you're the preemptive ghost of someone I might have been going to accidentally cause to die, and you're here to cryptically warn me that a jet engine is going to have crashed through my ceiling three days ago, you can take off that ridiculous outfit.
I was going to say something about Jeff Koons wanting his Halloween costume back, but yours is better.
Special dispensation might be given if you're delivering the Of Montreal tickets I ordered.
737 Down Over BKL
That is some freaky Donnie Darko shit. Death Bear taketh things, giveth nightmares.
Well he's gotta give you something in return.
For your consideration:
Had Rihanna, in Take A Bow, called Death Bear, she wouldn’t have had to risk the wrath of Smokey the Bear.
Will Death Bear take out my empties for me?
He could make a hell of a lot of cash-for-aluminum money if he came to my house.
there was a show in japan where they would get things that triggered painful memories in people, take them to an abandoned quarry, and blow them up. the explosions were always somewhat disappointing.
You mean like people ate them or surgically implanted them and then were voluntarily blown up? I imagine Mr. Yamaguchi did not find this the least bit entertaining!
Jesus. You can take away my Depends after I answer the door.
Meanwhile, thrift shop owners are kicking themselves.
Dear Death Bear,
Please figure out a way to take away text messages I send when I am drunk.
Thank you,
HG
Mom? Mom? Look, I... No, it's Bobby. I'm ... Jesus. I'm sorry, sometimes she doesn't recognize me after lunch unless she's had her pills. Mom? Mom? Mom, look at me. No, that's not the remote. That's not the remote, Mom. GOD! DAMNIT! Give me the spoon, Mom. Give it. I just... I want her... I want her to know it's Ok. Listen to me. Mom? Listen. See this... one sec... see this? This is Death Bear, Mom. He's going to... no, no, Gina and I were divorced three year ago. Listen. LISTEN! Listen to me, this is Death Bear and you're going to go with him for a trip and... yes, you can take that. Yes, there you go. Ok. Ok, now. Bye bye. Yes, I'll feed the birds. Ok. I'll... right. Yes. There you go. I SAID I WOULD FUCKING FEED THE BIRDS, MOM! GOD... Ok. Just... Ok. Good. Bye bye now. Bye bye. Ok.
Where did you come from and can I go there!?
(Psst, just don't get on his/her bad side.)
This is a front for a brilliant panty sniffer.
i like awesome day at the awl
HELLBEAR:
http://www.facebook.com/search/?q=bear&init=quick#/video/video.php?v=1243515619494&ref=mf
Can we take up a collection and have the American Apparel Lace Bodysuit model sent to Death Bear?
Absolutely not! I like that she's not a real model.
can we have death bear in the american apparel lace bodysuit?
Only if we can keep the dance chick on her tippy toes.
Have Death Bear bring her to my house, where I will take her in exchange for a duck-taped-and-gagged Dov Charney.
i imagine handling dov charney would require tongs. long tongs.
"Come on in. Most of them are in the freezer."
"Most." Heh.
I bet that when you Summon Death Bear to your door, it kills an Oberlin alum's parent a little inside.
hhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
I can only imagine the death bear arrives with acoustic backing music sung by some Lolita nymph in a Williamsburg Band like Parachute or Chairlift or fuck it's called. Therefore, I will just kill the bear when it arrives.
I had had enough... I just couldn't take the responsibility and pain of being an adult anymore. The wife... the mortgage... the desk job... so I broke down and called Mid-Life Crisis Mule. He arrived at my door with a brand-new Ed Hardy shirt and a pair of Mark Nason boots, keys to a 2010 Miata parked in the driveway, a coupon to a local tanning salon (plus a free chest and back hair wax) and a ticket to Cabo in a Drakkar-Noir scented envelope.
I bet he just stores all that shit in the woods.