Bear Necessities, revisited.

Imagine hearing that your best friend is chained to a radiator in a small room somewhere. You don’t know where. And imagine the radiator isn’t really a radiator at all – everyone gets chained to radiators these days – it’s a grizzly bear. The grizzly bear is full of Etorphine and won’t wake until next Friday. When she does wake next Friday, she will groggily paw your friend’s knees and ribs and shoulders for a few minutes and then rip your friend’s face off.

Imagine that.

Now imagine that you have an opportunity to save your friend. This is what happened to me earlier when I woke up. God came down and told me about the room and the chain and the bear and the best friend, but also told me I could put a stop to it all.


A radiator, earlier. 

“But how God?” I asked God. “I’ll do anything to save my best friend. Can I have a look first though? I’ve always wanted to know what a man chained to a sleeping bear in a small room looked like.”

“Always? That’s a bit strange. You can have a look later maybe,” said God.

“Why didn’t you chain him to a radiator?”

“Radiators are boring. Everyone gets chained to radia – hold on, who’s saying that I chained him to a radiator. I mean, a bear.”

“Sorry, you just seemed to know a lot about it. Okay, how do I save him? It doesn’t involve running does it? I can’t bear running. Ha, I said ‘bear’, that’s sort of a joke. Not a good one though. I should have said radiator. Let me have another go. Okay, how do I save him? It doesn’t involve running does it? I can’t radiator running.”

“Well done. And you wonder why your best friend is chained to a bear. Listen: You can only save your friend if you set up a copywriting agency by Friday.”

“That’s all?” I said.

“That’s all,” God said.

“That is quite a bit, though. And if that doesn’t happen then my best friend gets it? Well I can barely believe it. I mean: I can radiatory believe it. Doesn’t work so well the second time, does it? A bit much.”

“Yes, a bit much.” God said.

“Is this a metaphor?”

“Um, no. How do you mean?”

“Well, I’m thinking that my best friend isn’t my best friend, it’s me. And the bear isn’t a bear, it’s my writing career. I suppose the small room represents my life. So: I’m trapped in this small room, my life, and I’m chained – and I must say, I really like what you’ve done with the symbolism here God – to a career that is going to destroy me if I don’t make considerable progress within the next week. Oh, and at the moment the bear, my career, is sleeping. I wonder why I’ve made it a female bear. Is that it?”

“Yes, I suppose so. I didn’t really consider all that. I saw it more as a game you could play with yourself, to test yourself. If your friend really was chained to a bear in a room, and the only way you could save him was to set up a copywriting website could you do it. And if you couldn’t, should you just give up?”

“You’re right. And I will give up. Properly this time. Isn’t this a bit weird though, playing games with yourself like this at forty?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“You’re a bit bored now aren’t you God?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You want to go off and chain someone else to a bear don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”


A bear, earlier. 

And so began my morning. I’ve clearly had enough and am clearly going a bit tonto, but it’s good to set goals. And I know I’ve nearly given up on all this nonsense before, but God wasn’t involved then and that time was only really to elicit sympathy and gain readers (it worked), whereas this time I mean it and I need to stir myself because I’m really, really, really fucked off with it all. And pretty fucked up by it all too. Apologies for the fucks at the end. I was being all respectful and doing well with the fucks up until then. Enjoy your week.


4 responses to “Bear Necessities, revisited.

  1. Well, I did enjoy my week, and the two that followed. Not sure what I would do if my friend was chained to a radiator. Probably steal his wallet and shoes. I would also question him to learn how he allowed himself to be radiator chained. Seems like an odd position to find yourself in. Having said that, I did once fall out of my shoes, which most people wouldn’t believe is possible.

    • Metaphorically though, Ben, we are all chained to radiators. Or bears. Or bear-shaped radiators. Or radiator-shaped bears. Or…I’m a bit heady today, aren’t I? I don’t doubt for a second that I’ll be falling out of my shoes later. Glad to hear you enjoyed your week.

  2. I feel out of my pants once, twice, 3 times a lady. And I don’t mean pants in the American sense. How are the tonto goals going? Nothing better than tonto me x

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s