YSaC, Vol. 940: Herd of bears? SURE I’ve herd of bears!
Pile O Concrete
I have torn out a older sidewalk and thought some one might have a use for the pieces. They are broken into manageable chunks and don’t know what they might be used for, but they are free. There was approximately 25 foot of 2 foot wide sidewalk. If you can use this material call me @ ###-#### It is located north of ######. They will be taken to the dump by Weds of next week
“Sir, can I speak to you for a moment?”
“Sure! What seems to be the problem, officer?”
“It’s about this ad you placed on Craigslist, about the concrete.”
“Yep, I sure placed that. What’s the problem?”
“Well, sir, it seems that instead of actually providing a pile of used concrete bits, you are, instead, feeding people to a herd of black bears.”
“Yes?”
“Well, it’s against the law.”
“Against the law? What do you mean?”
“The bears are a protected species, sir – they’re on a controlled diet.”
“Oh, I can see where that would be a problem. I’ll certainly stop at once. I thought you might be upset about the ethical implications.”
“Are you kidding? Anyone dumb enough to respond to a Craigslist ad for used concrete bits deserves what they get.”
Thanks for the post, Lynnette!
Look! Bear-shaped concrete! You don’t see that too often ’round these parts.
I don’t know if it was really supposed to be shaped that way. I’m kind of thinking it might have been a Boo-Boo.
So cruel to threaten to take the bears (even if they are made, and rather convincingly, of concree) to the dump on Wednesday. Bears aren’t just for a practical joke, they’re for life!
I want a concree bear.
Who wouldn’t? It’s fancy French concrete! 8)
It would look just marvelous in my fourier.
Concree, concraa, concree, concraa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
The Concree tribe originated on the shores of lake Gotchagloomi, in down town Minnianssopolis, among the tangle of overpasses and skyscrapers. They live in long houses built from the detritus of demolition projects. They are closely tied to the Chipaway tribe from the great planes, with whom they trade in parallels and puter angles.
The Concrees are also famous for molding animals (mostly bears) from native materials and giving them away on Wednesdays.
Hey…I got a story about angles….
My husband decided to go get himself a tattoo—only he chose not to tell me about it first. Well, lo and behold…..
What?
Oh, you’ve heard this little ditty before?
😉
It seems rather familiar, yes.
I wonder where I herd it before.
Probably not hear.
OT: I just want you people to know that you have a)expanded my reading horizons (this week alone it’s been Gaiman and Pratchett) and b)are costing me a fortune in Kindle books.
Sigh…I lurv you guys…
Ebooks may be my financial downfall.
*clutches Kindle to chest posessively*
If it is … I figure there are worse ways to go.
Amen, sistuh! I just got my Kindle – hubby surprised me with it for my birthday – and have downloaded a TON of free (YEAH!!) books..I’ve also read several of them. LOL…hubby says he thinks I spend MORE time reading now – if that is even possible – than I did before.
I’ve so far resisted the urge to get a separate e-reader and have made do with the Kindle and Nook apps on my iPod. I’m wearing down, though.
SJ – I have the Kindle app on my iPhone. Alas, the years take their toll on the eyes so rather than read with a magnifying glass I pined for a Kindle. My darling hubby took notice and got me the best one available. I love it…love, love, love it. I’m resisting buying the little light for it, but I did get an M-Edge cover right away.
Did I mention I love my Kindle?
My wive loves her kindle too. She got it in the exchange that I was allowed to buy myself a rather expensive toy of my own.
She promply downloaded every free book Amazon offered… and then I showed her Project Guttenburg…
I’m sure I’ll see her again someday.
*Waves his hand*
This is not the wive you are looking for.
I love my Kindle. A magic book that turns into any other book I want as soon as I finish reading the previous book is like my childhood dream come true.
Camille, that is it exactly.
Also, I sprung for the 3G option, which means … yes, I can read this site on it. I still haven’t figured out how to type capitals, though, so I tend not to want to post as it looks a bit Sparkyish.
CJ, I bought mine with gift money, so I went for the red patent M-Edge cover (it spends a lot of time in my bag during commutes, so it seems like a practical investment) and a flowery skin. No light, but that may come in time.
If I buy a book for more than $5, my personal rule is that the next one has to be free from Guttenberg or similar. I’ve gotten some quirky old mysteries that way, in addition to the usual suspects of classics – Gibbon’s Decline and Fall, Frazier’s Golden Bough, Sacher-Masoch – fun for the whole family. 8)
Camille – you are so right…
I’m just a few pages into “Guards! Guards!” and already nearly wet myself laughing over Brother Fingers’ attempt to get past not one, but two, doorkeepers. Holy crap.
Psh… Buncha kindle snobs…
I love my Nook too! 😉
I don’t use either the Nook or the Kindle because they’re too mainstream. I use a mirror and read the reflection of an upside-down book.
I use good old paper.
A Kindle’s nice, but it cannot take up the majority of shelf space in a room the way a nice collection of books can.
And it doesn’t smell right! Proper reading should be a thoroughly engaging experience, using sight, touch and smell.
Dude, paper totally sold out. I liked what paper did before it broke into the industry, but now everything it does is just derivative. It’s like it just keeps recycling its old material.
I read all my books on Dymo tape 😉
Of course, taking a Kindle or Nook on a camping trip isn’t the same either. In case of emergency, you can’t use them for the same kind of double
doodyduty the pages in a book can cover…That was one of the factors in my decision to get one. It also doesn’t take up as much space in one’s backpack or carry-on luggage to have enough reading material for a long trip.
Astro, as you get older and your book collection is in four-figure amounts … e-readers start to look pretty good. (I can supply pictures of the book cairns in my home as examples!) As well, if you have to carry a lot of books around every day, if they all fit into something that size, that’s a very good thing.
Per “nothing like reading a real book” – I totally agree. An e-reader always has the same font, there’s no page or cover texture, no smell (unless you’re doing something wrong), and, at this point, the cover pages of the books are in black and white. Carrying a book around during a specific time of life can cause you to remember later that time when you reread the book (kind of like the way certain songs can remind you of certain times), and so far my e-reader doesn’t (it makes me think of commuting and travel, though not particular travel, at least not yet). When I first got the Kindle my right hand kept going up to the corner to turn the page; the click to do that is not yet automatic, and it doesn’t matter if it never is. Those things said, I love the options and variety in the size – it’s the book equivalent of an iPod, so that you don’t have to carry around the physical matter but can enjoy the media. I love and miss the his and scratch of vinyl and the fun of looking at albums, but if I can take most of the best part of that experience with me, I will. Same for books.
er, [/matt]?
I think that’s more a [matte].
And I concur with you, Lola. Around the point that Mrs. Taco and I had to combine our book collections, we realized that we needed to find other, more space efficient options (ebooks) or add on another room to our house.
We went with the significantly cheaper option.
Sooner or later I’ll probably cave, though I’ll always keep some paper books around for reading on Shabbat, when I can’t use an e-reader.
One thing I like about having hard copies on the shelf, though, is that they are a very informative type of decoration. When someone comes into my apartment and starts to look at the bookshelves, it’s a chance to discuss shared reading experiences or serves as the starting point for recommendations. I like going into someone else’s home and perusing the books. It gives me an insight into the person.
Related thought – can one lend e-books to friends?
Our flow chart for e-books:
1) Is the ebook free?
Yes -> Ebook
No -> 2
2) Is the book out of print and thus only avilable in ebook format of for huge piles of money otherwise?
Yes -> Ebook
No -> 3
3) Is it a new book that my wife is extremely excited about and only available in hardcover right now?
Yes -> Ebook (price of paperback for new releases)
No ->4
4) Is the ebook more expensive than the paperback?
Yes -> Buy Paperback
No -> 5
5) Is there a cheap used copy that costs less than the ebook?
Yes -> Used copy
No -> Ebook
6) Does Taco want to read the book?
Yes -> Paperback
Also Yes -> Used Copy
No -> Go to 1.
Taco doesn’t have a Kindle or Nook yet 🙁
**note to self: as book collection grows, invest in more secure locks for house.**
I tried to pursue a book once, glad it wasn’t a hardback…
I do love browsing other people’s shelves, too; there is that as well. What you learn looking at other people’s bookshelves is very interesting. (Mine probably says “schizophrenic without actual voices.”)
Who needs voices? All the different people who live in my head are safely pressed between sheets of paper in one of my many books. But which books, you ask? Well, you’ll just have to browse them and see… Sorta like a jack-in-the-box, only with more shrieking and stabbity arm motions.
Maybe I can change you mind…*Looks at bookshelf*
CCIE: Routing TCP/IP (These first two books are over 4″ thick)
CCIE: LAN Switching
Internet routing architectures
WAN circuit technologies
Building large scale distributed networks
etc.
Care and cleaning of the orbital cave of technological wonders, VOL II* proper zero G flushing techniques**
*VOL I was used during the reading of VOL II.
**This may not actually be true
I am too poor to buy an actual Kindle so must do with the Kindle for PC. But am happy to discover that many of the old Star Trek books are available on Kindle. I am one happy Trek geek now.
OMG!! Star Trek?? I’ve downloaded several of the original television series episodes on my iPhone and watch them while I’m sitting on the exercise bike. I didn’t know about the books…uh…you are referring to the original (ONLY) Star Trek, right?
There’s plenty of ebooks from all Trek series, but yes, lots from TOS, even the Shatnerverse.
Whoohoo, mission accomplished!
I mean…
I have nothing to do with the publishing industry.*
*This might actually be true.
Note to self: Invent kosher eBook.
Remember, meat away from cheese.
I foresee a Mindfield epic, Sparky’s Blocks and the 6 bears…
Momma bear, Poppa bear, babby bear, step brother bear and adopted twin sister bears.
Now don’t you fret, and don’t you frown,
I caught that branch on the way back down
Now those lines brings back memories. As a camper for six years and staff for three, I read that and was instantly transported back to my district BSA camp.
One of those years on staff I was a mountain man living in a tiny, windowless cabin on the farthest edge of camp possible. One night while I was in a meeting at base camp a bear came and sat on our roof (it’s one of those cabins sunk into the side of a hill) while my fellow mountain man and other staff were in the cabin playing cards.
Did you let the bear into the game?
Considering it was a windowless mountain man cabin, when I arrived the people inside had loaded muzzleloaders nearby in case the bear decided it wanted to be dealt in the next hand.
Next on ESPN EXTREME! Texas Hold’em…
Playing poker with grizzley bears is a hobby so manly it causes 6 year olds who hear about it to grow beards.
I myself must now go out and shoot guns for an entire 24 hours lest my manliness reach a critial level and I explode in a shower of chest hair all over the office.
I can only hope that shaving with a shard of broken motorcycle exhaust will buy me enough time to make it to the range.
Don’t talk to any women before you get to the range or they’ll start popping out sons like defective Pez dispensers.
Taco and SJ… thanks for the tears of laughter.
I hear bears like to play a hand or two. Or with, maybe it was.
I don’t remember concrete being quite so furry and vaguely menacing.
Nor bears being quite so still.
They must be playing statues.
Or freeze tag.
That must be what the concrete bits are for.
:thunk:
“Oww! What did you do that for?”
“You moved.”
Oooh…or…
:Mama Bear hefts chunck of concrete over head:
“Ooof…”
“OUCH!!! WHY did you drop that on my foot?!?!”, cries the now-anchored Baby Bear.
“Couldn’t afford a babysitter.”
“Mommy, mommy, I’m tired of walking in circles!”
“Shut up, kid, or I’ll nail your other foot to the floor.”
It’s official. I’m giving up bear concrete for Lent.
I think I’ll give up being eaten by bears for Lent.
Whew! Thanks, mudsy…I was having the hardest time trying to come up with something.
I think we just made Jesus smile. It’s what he would have wanted.
I think all the collected deities of the world smile at us. Then they shake their heads, sigh, and drink themselves to sleep.
That last part’s because of the Sparkies, not us. I hope.
I must be rid of this concrete. It’s too much to bear.
Dan deserves to be sent to a box for that one. About the only use I could think of for broken-up concrete was for members of a certain family business to weigh down items they didn’t want floating back up.
Hey kids, look what I got you!
:truck dumps massive pile of shattered concrete bits in front of children:
Now you can build that fort you’ve always wanted.
:children cough:
You could have just gotten them a corroded speedboat that didn’t require any assembly.
Mosaic sidewalk cement is so last decade.
Yancy, the evidence is starting to point to these being Chicago bears. 8)
I think you mean “Da Bears.”
And the little ones are Da Cubs.
**lightbulb**
**pushes accursed goat towards concrete.**
Go on, maul it to death like I taught you, and then it’ll leave us alone.
“So, did you ever get all that concrete moved?”
“Yeah, but it was really a bear.”
These bears have been recently reintroduced to the forest. They don’t know what they might be used for, fairy tales, nature documentaries, or photo ops. But, and this is very important, they are FREE!
Free Misjay Bear!
A herd of sheep.
A gaggle of geese.
A school of fish.
A misjay of bear.
Lions and tigers and bears, oh my
(I had to say it)
Lions and Not.A.Lions and bears, oh my!
Lions and Not.A.Lions and concrete blocks, oh my!
Tacos and Sparkies and Texans, oh my!
Are we sure it’s not cement?
I’m putting bets on the fact that it’s macadam—deadly bear macadam.
Is macadam what bears do in the woods?
I think only Scottish bears.
But ALL beavers know everything there is to know about macadam….
Macadam? I barely touched ‘im!
Badump-bump!
…. That’s eerily close to my real last name (minus an A, add an S).
As far as I know, none of my relatives are deadly bears.
Macadsm is a strange last name for a rat.
Born in a mixing truck in [LOCATION]
Poured out into a great foundation.
He’s got no brains, slow as can be,
Poured some concrete, when he was only three!
Sparky, Sparky Crockett!
King of the Sucky Ad!
Posted an ad about his new concrete,
Knowing he’d have to be quite discrete.
Snapped up the bears livin’ in the yard,
Now he’s got no sale, ’cause Craigslist is hard!
Sparky, Sparky Crockett!
Got a striped lion rug!
He posted again, this time with class,
Took him a picture of a nude lass!
Reflected in a mirror, what do you know!
Now he’s getting flagged much to his woe.
Sparky, Sparky Crockett!
His red table is free!
Once more he made a brilliant Craigslist ad,
Put in a picture, ‘shopped just a tad.
His concrete sparkled and glittered in the sun.
There’s no wonder it interested no one!
Sparky, Sparky Crockett!
Stalking from the Café!
So our tale ends here with concrete not sold
He kept on posting until he grew old
So now he eats concrete and other clean fill.
And if you visit Craigslist, you’ll find him there still!
SPARKY! SPARKY CROCKETT!
King of Crighslist suck!
KING OF THE CRAIGSLIST SUCK!
As someone once said on here, close your tags, man. There are ladies present. 8)
I must have forgotten the backslash on the closing tag. Totally didn’t notice until you pointed it out.
I used to do that in HTML all the time… which is great when doing huge tables.
So, Taco, did you ever call Mother Taco? Do you ever write? Remember her birthday? Go home for the holidays, with or without a wive?
I did indeed.
This is bear morse code.
Bear bearbearbear bearbear
Translation:
Is that a Pic-a-nic basket?
Hey, BooBoo, let’s go get some pic-a-nic baskets!
“Who d’ya suppose that is?” Vince asked.
Vince always thought, as a collective noun, sloth was a bit of an offensive term. I mean, did they go around calling a group of sloths a bear? Plus, have you seen sloths? Ugly, glacial, spend all their time hanging about in trees eating leaves with their freakishly long limbs. They had impressive claws, though. Vince admired those claws. A little sharpening on some tree bark and they’d be great for ripping through flesh.
Nonetheless, the six of them — a sloth of black bears — watched the human approach noisily from the south. He appeared to be pushing some sort of bucket on a wheel in front of him. The bucket seemed to contain slabs of some variety of rocks.
“I dunno,” Bill shrugged, sitting to Vince’s right, his snout in the air as he sniffed. “It don’t smell right.”
“Sour,” Arn, seated to Vince’s left, agreed. “Kinda like it’s goin’ bad.”
Vince grunted. It did smell like it’d just rolled around in something that had been dead for a while and had possibly soiled itself beforehand, but at this distance its colouration made it hard to tell.
“Should we eat it?” suggested Marg at his far right.
“Ooh, I’m hungry,” moaned Peccadillo to Vince’s left, and Big McBob flanking the other end nodded and grunted his concurrence.
They were all pretty hungry. None of them had eaten since last night when they caught that dreadfully annoying hiker who was busy relieving himself on a tree. When he saw them surrounding him, he screamed in a manner that made them think they had mistakenly caught a female of the species instead. Not that it mattered either way, but Big McBob had a thing for the penis; he felt it was the most tender and sweetest of the meat. Vince felt a little uncomfortable about that, but no matter. The hiker had a tiny little knife he tried to defend himself with, but Arn swatted that out of his hand quickly as the rest descended on him. He kept screaming for his mother — stalk enough humans, you begin to pick up on their language. He was scrawny, and the pickings were slim — even Big McBob felt he was cheated — but it was better than nothing. This new guy looked pretty meaty, though.
Vince gave his assent by leading the pack — sloth was a stupid name — to fan out slowly, quietly, until they had him and his wheeled bucket surrounded and, with dramatic effect, stepped cautiously into his line of vision.The human looked up, eyes widening. He slowly turned, noting with each degree that he was in very, very serious danger, and he began repeatedly uttering an oath to that effect. As Vince himself stepped closer, the man started bargaining.
“Look, don’t eat me, okay?” the man whined piteously. “Please? I–I’ll bring you others you can eat, okay? I can bring in lots more! All the people you can eat, just let me live, okay? I can do that for you, you won’t go hungry again if you just let me live! Please!”
Vince didn’t give a damn about the pleading. They all pleaded. But more people? He could be useful if he could bring them more people to eat. Fish and berries only went so far. Vince stepped right up to him and sniffed him in a most menacing way. The man whimpered a little “Please?” It almost made him laugh. Instead, Vince looked him in the eye a moment longer, then snapped his snout back in the direction the man had come from as an indication that he should fulfill his promise.
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” the human repeated pathetically. Vince gave a warning roar after him just so he didn’t forget who was in charge here.
“Now why the hell did you go and do that?” Arn complained. “We had a perfectly good fat boy to eat and you just let him run off!”
“Patience,” Vince admonished. “He said he will bring more in return for his life.”
“And you believed that pile of spoor?” Bill asked, incredulous.
Vince roared as the others began to pipe up. “Quiet! If he can bring us more, it will be worth more than just eating him now. We will eat better, longer so long as he keeps his promise.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Marg asked.
“We eat him.”
“If he comes back,” Peccadillo noted.
But he did come back. Repeatedly. And he brought them some lovely meals, at that. Plump ones, tall ones, wide ones — they hadn’t eaten this well in — well, ever. It was an arrangement that suited them just fine, though Big McBob kept whining that he wanted to take a bite out of the man’s crotch — just one. But Vince reminded him that this would be the end of their meal ticket if he did that, so he settled for whatever the man brought.
—
Stubbins’ deal with the bears was an extremely uncomfortable one, but it worked for him. As long as he kept luring people in with things to give away online, he kept his life. Sure, it was at the expense of others, and the body count kept growing, but what else was he going to do? It wasn’t like he could leave — where would he go? He had outstanding warrants for his arrest, and this was the only place he knew of that nobody would visit and couldn’t be traced to him because the original owner died. It wasn’t Stubbins’ doing — he’d planned on killing the man, but in a most fortuitous twist of fate, he died of a heart attack just minutes before Stubbins broke in. Knowing the old man had no friends or next of kin, he simply took over the old man’s life, throwing his carcass in the woods to be eaten — and it was. He was set. Except for the bears, anyway, but as long as he kept fresh meat coming in from online ads to take his junk, that situation was settled, too.
Stubbins wandered into his den and prepared to type up another ad but was interrupted by a knock at the door. He’d already removed the previous ad for the pile of dried peat moss, but he supposed there were always stragglers. He looked through the keyhole just to be sure the law hadn’t caught up with him, but it turned out to be some woman, so he opened the door.
“Hi!” she said in a pert southern accent. She was a cute thing, no doubt about that; petite, beautiful figure, flowing blonde hair, perfect smile. “I’m here ’bout the pile o’ sidewalk y’all were giving away?”
It took him a moment to withdraw his leer and gather his thoughts enough to realize he had no idea what she was talking about. “Sidewalk?”
“Yeah, y’all’s ad. Said you dug up some sidewalk you ain’t got no use for?”
He’d posted a number of things over the past few weeks, but he couldn’t remember anything about a sidewalk. “I, um,” Stubbins didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t want to turn her away though. “Could you hold on a minute and let me check something?”
“Sure!” she replied.
Stubbins closed the screen door and he ran into his den to quickly check the computer. Sure enough, it had been left on a page displaying the ad he had just posted for some bits of sidewalk he dug up. Except he remembered neither digging up sidewalk nor posting about selling a sidewalk. His finger idly traced a set of gouges beside the keyboard that he didn’t remember being there either.
Gouges.
Stubbins went cold with fear and dashed back to the door. The woman was gone. He opened the screen door and poked his head out to look for her, but all he heard was a quiet sort of smacking noise off in the distance somewhere. He pulled his head back into the house slowly and closed his eyes. He knew how this was going to end. He was going to turn around and there was going to be a bear there, and the bear would leap at him and he’d be dead. He knew if he tried to run out the door there would be a bear there to stop him, too. He saw the movies. He knew how this worked.
—
The man slowly turned around, eyes firmly shut. He stopped, facing them, and slowly began to open his eyes. Before he had time to fully process the scene, she plunged the knife deep into his heart; the look of redoubled surprise on his face was priceless.
She leaned in close to his slumping body and whispered in his ear, “Call me Goldie.” She then yanked the knife from its fleshy sheath and let him slump to the floor.
Goldie turned to address the bears. “There you go, just like I promised, and with more to come.”
The leader of the pack seemed to nod satisfactorily as they all moved past her to sink into their meal. Predictably, Big McBob went straight for the crotch.
Feeling a little dark today, are we?
It was just that kinda story I guess. I mean, bears. You can either go cute, or you can go deadly. This didn’t strike me as a story meant for cute.
Today? Why this is a freaky-puppy classic style story!
Dementedly inspired. I like it.
Er … with the turn that some of your stories have taken of late, are Pickles and Winston going to grow fangs and/or turn on each other? I hope not.
Thank you. 🙂
Not to worry. As I mentioned to Typo, it’s just the way the story seemed to need to go. I mean, you’ve got a sloth (seriously, sloth) of bears, this didn’t exactly seem like Smith Family Roarbinson material here. The demented Goldielocks twist didn’t really come to mind ’til around the time she showed up so I just kinda ran with it.
Fear not, Pickles and Winston won’t turn out to be evil little balls of fur. They’re about that sort of nonsense. 🙂
Then there’s this bear (shudder): Sloth bear of Mysore
OT: When I worked/lived next to Elgin AFB’s 724 square miles of reservation land, I came home a couple of times to find a bear in my yard. The first time it happened I thought it was my neighbor’s dog and almost went out to take it back to its home. I realized just in time that it smelled riper than Mr. Fluffbutt (seriously, they named their dog that) and that I’d never heard him sniff quite that loudly.
Mr. Fluffbutt is what I called my last boss (he liked Mexican food)!!!
Coincidence? I think not.
We had a duck we called Mr. Fluffbutt. He was down with that.
I thought only elephants were down with that.
Perhaps I’ve remembered the joke incorrectly. Hehe…
Whoa.
You are quite the master of vivid imagery. I might have to keep my eyes open for a few days.
Can’t sleep, Goldielocks will stab me.
Close, but more like:
Can’t sleep, images of bears biting crotches will overwhelm my brain.
If it makes you feel any better, later that night they all got together to play some cards, put on some Liza Minnelli, and trim each other’s beards.
Goldielocks needds to lay off the Rogain.
EDIT: I could correct that, but instead I’ll just mention that I’m too lazy to do so.
*trying, trying, trying to fight the urge*
Goldilocks…
There! Now, that’s just right!
MF claims his heroine(?) is spelled with an e. Who am I to question the writer?
But I suppose that if Steavan can be a name, then MF can use an e.
Now I read that and all I saw was the nickname Goldie. The locks probably were added with the bagels…the ones that look like Snoopy or the ones that come out only in the Winter.
Pile O’Concrete- a tribute to Nick Lowe, Dave Edmunds and Sinead O’Connor
I thought Pile O Concrete was IF’s Men At Work tribute band.
Men at Work? I thought it was The Jackhammers* from Glasgow.
*don’t Urban-dictionary that
I’m tempted to because you said not to, but my work computer has (thankfully) blocked Urban Dictionary.
IT’S A TRAP!
I thought Pile O Concrete was what you got from sitting on Patti O Furniture to long.
I believe in this case, they’re called Dingle Bearrys.
Interesting note: There are 12 hits for a Tineye search of the image.
Not to mention the copyright at the bottom.
I think Sparky thought all CL ads have to have a picture, and so just grabbed something off the net, not realizing that it helps if the picture is of the object *for sale.*
The image looks to be copyrighted by Tom Sears. The late, great deceased Tom Sears, I assume. Sadly, this must have been his last photo. Any new photos of wildlife would have surely been taken over by his lifelong wildlife photographer partner Dick Craftsman.
With commentary by Angel Roebuck?
Um, duh! That’s a given….
😉
Commentary by Timothy Treadwell?
That was cold. Dismally, dismally cold Angel.
😉
That documentary should have been called, Does a Bear Enthusiast Die in the Woods?
Wow, I have nothing.
But, I get to tour-guide about the region again today.
You children behave or there’ll be no concrete for you!
Babby got back bacon
I got 6 bears and I cannot lie
You other Sparky’s can’t deny
That when a girl breaks in and your porridge she tastes
And a lays down in your place
You get growlin’
Wanna pull off tufts
Cuz you notice that face was stuffed
Deep in the woods she’s swearing
You’re stoked and you can’t stop bearin’
Oh, baby you wanna eat her
And take her liver
You Sparky’s tried to warn me
But those bears you got
They may be so phony
Ooh, Rumpelstiltskin
You say you wanna get in my belly
Well use me for TP cuz you aint that average poopy
I’m glad you took your time with that, Hammy.
Lolz….
Epic. Now I’m going to have that stuck in my head all day! Well done 😀
My den mate don’t want none unless it’s with A1.
I suspect the bears are really a security measure to make sure you really want that concrete before you go get it.
Oh, and probably not much snark from me today… it’s my day off, my husband works, and I have to watch a toddler… all while dealing with a headcold that makes me feel like a pile o’ concrete.
You are excused from snark duty. My cold is still going on, but it seems to be either lightening up or settling in somewhere less conspicuous. Nyquil is standing by though in case it starts getting bitchy.
“So, how bad you want that concrete, huh? How bad do you want it? Bad enough to get it from those bears? Look at those bears, playin’ with the concrete over there. They really like that concrete. You want it more than them? It’s yours if you can take it. Just show ’em who’s boss, make yourself look really big and make a lotta noise, you’ll be fine. Except for that big one there on the end. He really likes concrete.”
Bearbed wire?
Gee whiz, Mister! Howdja break all that concrete into little pieces?
With my bear hands!
(Man, I could have a future writing for the Word Jumble.)
Plethora of puzzle doors to you LaKitta
SisterTaco and SilvaNoir, here are your colorful Punchity Punch Punches!
G’Night, Jellystone!
Rebear redux!
Bearly legal.