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Subject: Once upon a time... rss

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Andrew W.
United States
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Taoist, Pittsburgh Sports fan, and welcoming to people who are kind, from any walk of life.
I have been playing games since the Atari 2600, Candy Land, Chuttes and Ladders, Go Fish, & the Apple ii. Supporting "the Geek" since 2006
Got as little bored, let the mind wander, and now I can't stop laughing. Still kinda bored, but figure I would let you in on it.

So my dad had a co-worker who kept a cabin up in Northwestern Pennsylvania to use for the fall hunting seasons and spring weekend vacations to get away from the Pittsburgh Traffic a bit, and he would lock it up in the winter when he wasn't using it. No running water or indoor plumbing.

Well, one fall while he was clearing the cabin out for the year, he decided to leave behind some provisions so that he would not have to purchase them next spring, namely, some canned food and a quart of motor oil (this is back when it was still in cans in the US).

He got a call Mid-December from the Fishing and Game Commission that he should come to inspect the damage to his cabin; It looked like one of the local black bears must have gotten inside. I suppose the people in the neighborhood of the cabin had his number in case something happened.

He was walking down the dirt path to the cabin from the road, and he could see the bear had bashed the door straight in -- only a few splinters were still left on the hinges. At about twenty paces, he was greeted by an odor that he described as being like a wet dog covered in rotting moss. The commissioners told him the bear was long gone, but they didn't say much over the phone about what damage the bear did.

Well, what the black bear did was walk up to the cabin and smelled an empty can of tuna that my Dad's co-worker did not clear out of a waste can left in the cabin's entryway in the fall. This was apparent because he did not leave a full can of tuna behind in the provisions, and the waste can and tuna can were chewed to ribbons.

Walking through to the kitchen/mainroom, the source of the odor became unmistakenly apparent. The floor and walls were covered in blotches of black bear dung and empty tin cans -- EVEN THE CAN OF MOTOR OIL, which the poor thing must have bit into, lapped up all the oil, and became so violently and gastrically distressed as to attempt impromptu interior decorating.

I never asked if he bothered to clean the place up, but I'm sure if he did, he made sure all the garbage made it out of the cabin from then on.

Gluttony will get you in the end, I suppose.
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