Hear Me Roar
A few days ago I sat down and with the Spokesbear and had a talk. It wasn’t a pleasant talk. It never is when the Spokesbear isn’t happy, even when he’s trying to be nice about it, and in this instance he was both very unhappy and very pleasant about his unhappiness. The gist, more or less, went something like this: “Your process over the last twelve months has been arsetastic and full of whine. Perhaps you’d like to do something about this, dumb-ass.” It’s very hard to argue with spokesbear when he’s right. Also, it’s hard to argue with him when he makes the face. You know, this one: It’s the face he makes when he’s disappointed by things. The Spokesbear is wise, but the Spokesbear is not particularly patient, and refusing the face usually ends up with me getting mauled in the night. Which, lets face it, is slightly embarrassing when the thing doing the mauling is a stuffed bear that
