Fucking Woof

I suppose I need to face it. I’m BearBait. BearBait am I. I have the latent mutant power to attract stocky, hairy white guys. I can’t say I really blame them for thinking I’m a “cub”. I mean, let’s go down the checklist:

• Shaved head? Check.

• Hairy chest? Check.

• Some form of facial hair (at least I don’t have the ubiquitous goatee)? Check.

• Propensity to end up in such bear hangouts as “The Hole”, “Mineshaft” and “Faultline”, usually dragged there against my will by bear-loving friends? Check.

Now luckily, I’ve been able to use my “muscle bear” (ick) status to some degree of success in finding men I’m attracted to, so I can’t really complain. In fact, to complain that any type of person in general finds you attractive is kind of disgusting and petty in the first place. I just wish there was a bit more originality involved in the whole scene. You can filter the entire “bear community” to one word:

“Woof.”

“Woof.” Fucking woof. Yeesh. Grown men have said this to me. Perfect strangers in their thirties and forties have shambled up to me in bars, and leaning into my face so closely I could taste the beer off their tongues, have looked into my boobs and said “woof”.

Whatever happened to a simple “Hey”, or “Hello”? “Woof.” Again, yeesh. I have a message for all bears, cubs, beavers, otters and manatees — STOP SAYING “WOOF”. It makes you look juvenile, infantile and inarticulate. Which, granted, can be totally hot on some people. But in my case, the “woof” word sends a shiver down my spine, and not the good ones that end in erections. If anything, it’s a penis softener.

NO MORE FUCKING “WOOFS”. I mean it, bitches.