The truth about bears

Truth is that I don't like bears. Once I was on a scout adventure up in the Uinta Mountains and a bear attacked my tent while I was inside minding my own business. You know what it's like to have a bear attack your tent?

Luckily for me, the bear seems to of had a very short attention span, and after abusing my newly purchased K-Mart tent for about 5 minutes it pretty much gave up and went about whatever it is bears do during the day when they aren't destroying sensibly priced camping equipment. I had no idea (and still don't, for that matter) about how bears work. I quickly re-enacted every scene from the old Winnie the Pooh movies in my head, hoping to find some sort of lost information that may help me rid myself of this fuzzy menance. Sadly, I didn't have a single comically-shaped jar with a"Hunny" written on the side. So I stayed in the tent for a good 2 hours after the bugger abandoned his attack, as I was sure that he was simply trying to wait me out of my nylon shielding, perhaps sitting on a rock in a humorous yet patient fashion.

Heh, I love that bear. Honestly that's the only reason I'm making this post. Look at him! "Who, me? Dooo doooo dooooo...". Finally, I heard another scout walking by and figured that if he was still alive, then the bear must have given up on our camp completely. So I bolted out of the tent door (which the bear, in all his ignorance, was unable to figure out) and gathered the rest of the scouts to tell them of my harrowing tale of bear encounter-ment. Sadly, instead of being impressed, my fellow scouts were suspicious of my story, and the fools dared question the details. In the end, my scout leader said that it was one of the horses that we had brought along that attacked my tent. He even went so far as to say that "attacked" was too strong of a word. More like the horse sat down next to my tent and rested peacefully for the night. What do I think? I really can't say. I will leave that up to you, the reader, to decide*

*(probably a horse)