The Three Damn Bears

I see an ad in my comments section (put there by Google) for horsetail. So I clicked on it and eventually discovered that horsetail is, in one life, at least, a physical exfoliation. Hah! I think I will sell this stuff as an alternative to bikini wax. Clean up your entire hoo ha for pennies a few bucks a crack.

(Hoo ha again! I said crack!! Start saving. I'll put up an order form when I figure out how much I need to take a spaceship to someplace like Andromeda.)

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So, when you get to be middle-aged, you want to stay home, which these middle-aged women did not.

(Did I get this from you, Marti? If so, thankee.)

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Four hundred years ago, English-speaking immigrants slipped into Jamestown, Va. When will America start getting serious about protecting its borders?

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So Baby Bear goes downstairs and sits in his small chair at the table. He looks into his small bowl. It is empty. "Who's been eating my porridge?" he squeaks.

Then Daddy Bear arrives at the big table and sits in his big chair. He looks into his big bowl and it is also empty. "Who's been eating my porridge?" he roars.

Mommy Bear puts her head through the serving hatch from the kitchen and yells,

"For God's sake, how many times do I have to go through this with you idiots?

"It was Mommy Bear who got up first. It was Mommy Bear who woke up everyone in the house. It was Mommy Bear who made the coffee. It was Mommy Bear who unloaded the dishwasher from last night and put everything away. It was Mommy Bear who swept the kitchen. It was Mommy Bear who went out in the cold early morning to fetch the newspaper and croissants. It was Mommy Bear who set the damn table. It was Mommy Bear who walked the dog, cleaned the cat's litter tray, gave them their water and refilled their water bowls.

"And now you have decided to drag your sorry bear-asses downstairs and grace Mommy Bear with your grumpy presence. Listen carefully, for I am only going to say this once --

"I haven't made any f*****g porridge yet!!"

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My favorite word today is disgust. N., you cramp my style. Def.: Criticizing strong winds.