Why being a male polar bear is shithouse.

So last night I had some alone time & while painting my toenails a gay shade of lilac I ended up watching a goddam nature doco on Polar Bears in Antarctica. What I witnessed was so whackthefucko that I could not NOT tell you all about it.

For the purpose of this self narrated recollection, every Polar Bear will have a name.

Bo-Jackson has just spent the whole of the Antarctic winter curled up in a fetal position trying to keep his bear tits warm. Due to this idle hibernation, he gained a shit tonne of weight. Which, by the way, he is very self conscious about.

It is spring time in the asshole of the world & the monster sun has reared it's fiery head. Bo-Jackson is awake & on a mercy mission to find himself some tail.

So he starts walking. The excess weight he's gained from being a lazy ass bitch for 3 months is making all this walking quite harsh on his knee joints & giving him a nasty case of fur chaffe. Don't be fooled by all the fur. That shit is a pain in the backend when it's moist.

Now finding a bear ho in Antarctica is harder than finding a broken hymen in a nunnery. Bo-Jackson walks for days before he catches the jizztastic scent his bear scrot is longing for. Huzzah, some bear poon!! For some reason I can't explain (mainly because I had to go poo at this vital point), Polar bears have shark-like sense of smell. They can smell a on heat banger from miles away.

Again he walks for days (pimpin aint' easy yo) until he comes across the footprints of his future conquest. Sure enough, 2 miles down the road, he spots her. Rashonda. The bear whore of his dreams. He screams out loud to her  "I'ma gon tap yo ass bitch" (this comes out as more of a raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaooooooor but I totally knew what he was saying).

Much butt sniffing ensues. He could eat her face off & tear her to pieces like an old kitchen tea towel if he wanted to, but considering the severe case of blue balls he's currently suffering from & the fact he's just walked the length of New Zealand to find her, if he doesn't get it in now, he will die. (Who knew polar bears & men use the very same line?).

Rashonda it seems isn't going to make this ride easy for him. She's totally up for some action but she's shy & doesn't want the rest of the Antarctic wildlife community being a witness to the 2 week fuckfest that's about to ensue. She insists that he walks with her about 30 miles up into the mountain. To the edge of the cliff, where Bo-Jackson begins to give Rashonda the rogering of her life, thrashing his head from side to side like he's competing in a retard freestyle swimming gala. Rashonda wants a nice scenic view to gaze upon as Bo-Jackson diddles her like a maniac from behind.

Half way through the throes of furry passion, both Rashonda & Bo-Jackson smell stranger danger lurking close by. He quickdraws faster than a Mexican stand off & decides fuck this shit, I'm gona beat down this lurky wise ass.

The lurky wise ass in question is none other than Wisey McKracken, the infamous A-town murderous bear mafia leader. He wants in on this spring break bone-a-thon.

Now Bo-Jackson is a manly bear. He's not interested in any menage-a-trois bullshit nor does he want to dabble in any homo-erotic sausage grinding. And he sure as hell ain't letting no gangster get up in his lady monsters goon burger.

He lurches forward at Wisey with the fury of a thousand angry killer bears & basically tears Wisey McKracken a new asshole. Wisey is done. Hell hath no fury like a bear hump interrupted. He skulks off bruised & beaten knowing that this spring he may not get it in. However, our man Bo-Jackson does not come out of this ferocious street fight sans injury. He got cut like whore.

Again, he climbs the treacherous mountain side with his lady love & positions are resumed. Just when he thinks he's making headway, Balls Mcgee comes a loitering wanting to smack down with Bo-Jackson for Rashonda's affections.

Flash forward 2 weeks later, Bo-Jackson is spent. He can barely walk. His fur that was once white is now a bloody shade of pink from the mass beatings he's taken from angry suitors fighting for a tango with Rashonda's lady lumps. His face & upper torso looks like he's had a fuck slap fight with Freddy Kruger himself.

His work here is done. He will never see her again.

In 9 months time Rashonda will bust out a polar bear crotchling. Alone. Her baby daddy don't want no part of this shit show. There will be no post coital snuggy time, whispering of sweet nothings & false promises of eternal love for this duo. No one stays for breakfast & if you leave any of your belongings behind, they will be immediately be shat on & buried in the snow.

Rashonda wanders off into the distance walking in a manner that can only be described as 'extremely well boned'. The inner workings of her beef curtains have indeed been well marinated. It was a good time, even though she was forced to witness the infinite mass thrashings to her one night standee that lasted 2 weeks.

Bo-Jackson lays down for a bit to rest his achy mutilated body before carefully easing himself up & starting his slow journey back to his bachelor pad. There is no time to waste. The ice has started melting at a frantic pace. Drowning & being shredded by a tiger seal is not an option.

He looks back at Rashonda's only just visible outline on the distance. And he thinks to himself while licking his weeping war wounds, 'that Spring Break was a good time. I think I'll come back next year'.

The end.

I regaled this whole series of events to Blake when he got home from his mates place. I couldn't believe the lengths that poor fucker had to go through just to get a lay.

It got me thinking about how hubs is younger than me & how his libido kicks mines ass all the time. It's not that I don't find him incredibly sexy cos god knows I do. I just can't get it up (figuratively speakin). Because I'm too dam tired. Have a headache. Bloated. Or just not in the mood.

So last night he gets into bed at 11pm & does that thing he does when he gets all feely strokery & I say to him 'babe I need to sleep. I have to get up early'. He rolls over in a man huff obviously bummed at my harsh rejection. I pat him on the ass & say 'atleast you ain't a polar bear'.

He grunted & immediately started to snore. Which when translated means 'yes dear, I love you more than my xbox & you are absolutely right'.

Love you too baby. Try me again in the weekend x

Peace, love & humping polar bears