Hello Polar Bear, Goodbye Lunch. (1097 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.84 on 14 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by FlakMonkey (View user info) at 2005-12-18 08:10:10 EST
Some of you may remember me. Hell, some of you may still hate me, but no one can change that, least of all me. A lot has happened in my life since my last post called "Try This". Reading the post back to myself, it almost seems prophetic.
But enough about me.
Throughout the time I have been on Ubersite, I have seen many things change. From being able to have multiple posts on the front page, to the Uberboard, to getting a serious assload of new users. The fact that my old posts were never well recieved on Uber no longer surprises me. I am here to stay, and to improve myself. Ubersite has once again attracted me, because Ubersite rocks.
Okay, hugs all the way around and all that shit.
I have never been one to think things through all the way. I have always had a habit of acting for the moment, sort of like the Human Torch in the movie Fantastic Four, only not as rich and good looking. In fact not really rich at all and more like average. Well, more like really poor and a face like--Um, yeah, moving along.
As I'm sure most people on the planet earth that don't sleep with their daughters know, there are these things out there called Museums. The purpose of these buildings being that you go, pay an exorbitant fee, and look at things that are either stuffed, fossilized, or created by pretentious assholes named Pierre. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But it is intended to be a feast for the brain.
Ha. Ha, ha.
I'm not a museum type. I have nothing against them, I just don't get off on looking at dinosaur bones, old paintings, or stuffed animals. Well I don't get off *looking* at them.
Case in point: I went to the museum with my friends and some girls we were trying to impress by acting all cultured and smart, which didn't work anyways because we picked them up at a ski slope.
So we pay the $12 bucks each and are released into the museum by the aging, blue-haired anthropology major, left to our own devices. There are six of us. This adds up to a hell of a lot of devices. We look at the stuffed birds, the dinosaur bones, the historical exhibits, and the glorified rock collections. The girls are getting bored and my friends and I can see that this is quickly turning into an episode of "Elimidate", that is, the date is coming to a close and we are going to be eliminated from potential touching privilages. I suddenly see a sign, pointing towards a darkened ramp leading downward into the depths of the museum reading: Mammal Exhibit. Thinking this must be the only thing we haven't seen, I plead to the others to go to this last area. The girls sigh and agree, obviously wanting to get back to their pads to do some marathon hair-drying or something. As they walk ahead towards the exhibit, my buddies look at me like I have gone insane.
"Relax" I say, in tones low enough not to be overheard. "it looks dark enough to fuck down there."
Turns out I was right. The place was a maze of movie theater like passageways, lit only by the lighting coming from the glass enclosed displays of stuffed animals. Quiet, dark, and most importantly, abandoned and creepy as hell, the girls wasted no time in pairing off with us to cling to anxiously as we strolled the freak show hallways. Soon we were breaking off and finding secluded corners to get more...Personal. The girl I was with and I wandered around aimlessly until we came to a corner that was between a moose exhibit and a polar bear exhibit. It was dark, it was cozy, it was...Good. Just as the girl and I start getting into some heavy petting though, I notice something over her shoulder. Some bright light is coming out of a hole in the wall. I squint, and realize it's a doorway. Eventually, curiosity gets the best of me and I reach for it. By now, the girl I'm trying to make notices and become similarly intrigued. We push open the door and I almost shit myself.
A polar bear is on all fours, staring right at me. It takes me a second to realize I have just found the maintanance hatch for one of the exhibits. The girl and I climb in. I suddenly understand how a fish feels, as I am now looking through the glass at the hall outside. I look at the girl, she looks at me, I look at the stuffed polar bear on all fours. We both smile. I drop my pants and pretend to fuck the polar bear doggy-style, my member still tucked firmly into my boxers. The girl is giggling and the polar bear is rocking back and forth. Suddenly, I see someone cross in front of the glass, it is one of my friends, and he stops dead. He looks with a look of sheer shock on his face. The girl he is with looks like she is about to have a coronary.
Just a quick side note: It may strike you as strange as to why I would be getting bad with a stuffed bear rather than with a hot chick. I dunno, I just do stupid shit because my brain tells me to. Besides, I figured that maybe if I showed how I could take command of a 2000 pound beast, the girl might want me to take command of her.
My friend's laughter brings my other friend and his fuck buddy to see what all the commotion is about. They too are stricken dumb by the sight before them. By this time, I have really gotten into the groove and am spanking the bear's ass and making loud grunting noises. I guess I was lost in the moment, too interested in my act to notice much of anything around me, including the fact that things had gotten very quiet all of a sudden. I looked up from the polar bear's ass to see my willing fuck buddy dart out of the access to the hallway. I puzzled over her strang3e actions for about half a second before a voice in my head screamed "trouble!!" I looked through the glass and could see a few grim-faced people pushing their way through my friends. I panicked. I lost my rhythem trying to pull my pants up and bumped the polar bear. As a pissed off looking guard came through the access into the exhibit, I watched in slow motion as the poor polar bear, who hadn't done anything besides be in the wrong place at the wrong time for the second time in his existance begin to fall sideways to the floor. Then I did something which I will regret to this day.
In a futile effort to prevent Mr. Bear from hitting the floor, I grabbed his tail.
Did you know that taxidermists use the asshole as a natural point to hide all their handiwork? Neither did I. As I yanked on the tail of this poor, molested beast, the old stitching around his ass broke open. This in turn stressed and ripped open the taxidery seam that ran down his belly.
To my credit, I never let go of that damned tail. It stayed firmly in my hand as the 20 year old exhibit split wide open, letting out a great torrent of horrible odors.
Now, if you don't know, the inside of a taxidermed animal isn't stuffed with fluff or anything like that. In fact, there's precious little inside one of these babies, but the original skin is used. Now, the original skin is tanned so it doesn't rot, but even tanned skin can go bad, especially when it's 20 years old, prone to water damage, and lunched on my weird little museum mites. I learned all this after the fact, so I guess my trip wasn't a total waste of my brain. Anyhow, the innards of this particular polar bear had been festering with the odors of water induced rot mixed with the damage of the mites mixed with 20 years of stale tanned skin trapped in an enclosed space. I imagine if Satan himself cut a fart, it would smell something like this. Of course, the stench hit me full in the face, with my mouth open, inhaling deeply in surprise. Yeah, I got hit full force.
Right there on the spot folks, I puked like I had never puked before. I puked on the remains of the polar bear, I puked on the stupid mocked up ice. I puked up on the suffed penguin that was sharing the exhibit with Mr. Bear. I puked on the fucking *walls*. When my body was finished trying to rid itself of the threat, I was standing in a wrecked exhibit, pants around my ankles, vomit dribbling down my shirt, holding the ass of an animal that had died long before I was born, and looking at the indescribably pissed off museum guard that was standing in the accessway and, since my little regurgitation floorshow, had lost all intention of joining me in the exhibit. I chanced a look outside the glass which had also suffered some of my stomach's wrath, and saw my friend patting the back of one of the girls, who had just made her own little pukey in a neat pile on top of her own shoes.
Needless to say, I got carted off to jail. Fortunately, (or unfortunately depending on how one sees it) all my friends went with me. We sat in the holding cell waiting for our parents to arrive chatting idly about what had transpired. Halfway through the coversation, a pair of cops appeared outside the cell and listened, and by the end, were laughing right along with us. Once our parents arrived to vouch for us, we were released. In the end, through the urging of the two cops, our parents repeated calls and our own promise to help undo the damage and work off what couldn't be fixed, the museum agreed not to press charges.
Of course, since I wrecked the old polar bear, the museum had to get a new one, and I'm not sure how that works, but I'd like to think that in a roundabout way, I was instrumental in the death and subsequent defiling of one of those huge beasts. I know it's not true, but it helps me sleep at night.
And by the way, later that month, I got laid by that same girl. We did it "polar bear-style" and it was great.
User Reviews
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2005-12-19 05:48:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Ar-har-har.
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2005-12-18 22:35:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
posh.
Submitted by Lmarie22000 (user info) at 2005-12-18 20:27:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-18 18:52:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
phee-nominal.
Submitted by FlakMonkey (user info) at 2005-12-18 18:18:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Shenanigans, isn't that that Irish bar down the street?
Submitted by freebie (user info) at 2005-12-18 17:39:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
The image on my head of this has me laughing my ass off.
Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2005-12-18 14:57:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
potential touching privilages
gold
Submitted by Zol (user info) at 2005-12-18 14:33:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Museum shit is always fun if you know how to act properly. Fucking bears definitely a good example. They know this thats why they took that big fee. Not exaggerated just common wit.
Submitted by Creepy_guy (user info) at 2005-12-18 13:26:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
...yikes!
Submitted by Targa (user info) at 2005-12-18 13:00:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"...and saw my friend patting the back of one of the girls, who had just made her own little pukey in a neat pile on top of her own shoes."
+2 it sounds like an Archie comic.
Submitted by Sparxicus (user info) at 2005-12-18 12:36:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
It might be shenanigans, but hell, it made me laugh.
Submitted by MrSparkle847 (user info) at 2005-12-18 10:12:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice one.
Submitted by MANICMOTHER (user info) at 2005-12-18 09:21:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Just a quick side note: It may strike you as strange as to why I would be getting bad with a stuffed bear rather than with a hot chick. I dunno, I just do stupid shit because my brain tells me to.
--------------------------------
Its called testosterone. Anytime it gets close to large amounts of estrogen it just takes you boys over.
Nice story though.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2005-12-18 08:58:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
I call shenanigans, but this was still pretty good.