Ok, this shit has gone just about far enough. You do one ad for Coke and all of the sudden everyone forgets you’re the flesh-hungry king of the
It’s December again, which means I’m all over your TV screen looking like a cuddly albino Teddy Ruxben. Do me a favor, the next time you see that Coke commercial and start feeling all warm and fuzzy about me and my kids, flip on over to the National Geographic channel. See that giant, savage mammal tearing apart what appears to be a slimy purple grape? That grape is a baby seal, and that big white bear is me. Hi, nice to meet you, I’m a polar bear. I do not fuck around.
Now that I am famous, people and seagulls never leave me alone, even when I am eating. I fucking hate that.
You people just make me sick this whole holiday season. Just because there’s such a thing as Santa Claus doesn’t mean that all old men with shaggy white beards are going to bring you presents if you sit on their lap. The only present an actual old man that enjoys being a chair for young children will give you is called sodomy.
And I'll explode if I hear one more time “Hey man, could you sign my Coke bottle?” I lack opposable thumbs dipshit.
I don’t even like the taste of human flesh, it’s gamey and decidedly tough, but I’m damn near ready to start eating every last motherfucker who is dumb enough to approach me. Or at least giving them a good mauling.
A herd of penguins. You humans see a bunch of bundles of cuteness. I see a buffet.
Yeah I get it, the white fur, it makes me look strange and pristine and you Americans love when shit is white. IPods, iMacs…but guess what? This fur is not a fashion choice. It is not there to make me look slick, as
No, I have white fur because it allows me to blend in with the snow until I’m about three feet away from you and you’re feeling the last sensation you will ever register, my hot breath on the back of your neck.