If I was ever lost in the woods and a bear attacked me, I wouldn’t put up a fight. I would let the beast toss me like a rag-doll for a while, just to make him think he was macho. Then I would pull out my trusty machete and carve a hut from his steaming carcass.
Chet’s Cogitation: Thursday, August Twenty-Four, Two-Thousand-Six
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