Bear-naked, uppity coffee lovers & emergency contacts

Bear-naked, uppity coffee lovers & emergency contacts

Dear Rachel,

We bears live year-long in the forests at Purgatory. We have seen the humans leave panties, bras and beads for my family in the trees. My wife likes the bras and panties the best. My kid love the beads. Is the Forest Service or Purgatory going to remove the items in the future? I like the tree on people mover #3 as it has the most for my family. I’m not willing to go to town if they remove the old underwear, too far to walk. We will go back to just plain fur. DO NOT LITTER IN MY HOME. I need your HELP and suggestion to stop littering.

– Yogi

Hey hey hey,

Wait. You want us to stop littering, but to keep the undergarments coming so you don’t have to roll downhill to Walmart for sexy secondhand lingerie for the missus? I feel like this is some verbose attempt at a wry contradictory aphorism, the likes of which your namesake’s namesake was so known for. But you, my ursine friend, are no Yankee great, and maybe you should ask your kid how they’re actually earning their beads.

– Your average bear, Rachel


Dear Rachel,

Why are coffee snobs the worst snobs? My younger bro-in-law just came through and wrecked their first morning here because he wouldn’t shut up about our water. It was too hard or too fluorinated or too something for his precious coffee. I’m an uncultured pig for not having appropriately filtered bottled water on hand for the perfect cuppa. Makes me just wanna toss a mug in his mug.

– Watered Down

 

Dear Wet Blanket,

No one should be snobby about coffee water in the morning. It’s too early to be snobby. No one has earned the right by 8 a.m. to get snooty about a cup that’s cold before it’s halfway gone. Anyone pretending it’s about the “ritual” or the “flavor profile” is like a heroin junkie waxing poetic about a certain poppy’s piquant aftertaste. So long as you didn’t give him bubbly water for his brew, he can stuff his beans in a sack.

– Always percolating, Rachel


Dear Rachel,

Trying to figure out the fine line here between “my friend probably just forgot to text me back” and “my friend is dead in a freezing ditch somewhere and I should call for help.” I figure a courtesy second text is in order before calling search and rescue, but if she really is dying in a ditch, a text asking so isn’t going to help matters. What’s the ideal duration to minimize annoying over-freaking, while still maximizing the potential for resuscitation?

– Emergency Contact

 

Dear ICE ICE Baby,

This is why you should always choose your underwear as if you’ll get in an accident. Your friend probably won’t be able to reach you in time to swap out your tread-worn Superman briefs because they’re too concerned with Big Brothering you to ask where you are. Also, if a pervy bear should find you in that ditch, apparently your quality used undies might be a nice bartering chip for your life.

– Bahama mama, Rachel

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