Not strictly - or at all - our adventures this time, but I just had to share this.
At a party the other night, we mentioned where we'd been and S piped up, "Oh, we went to Vancouver in the Spring a couple of years ago! And Whistler - there was proper snow there and that. And Grouse Mountain1."
Being good Scotchmen/women, they'd tagged onto a Merkan tour without paying and went to see some orphaned Grizzly Bears, Cari and Boo. Trouble was, despite wheedling and coaxing from the Merkans, the bears didn't feel like coming out of their cave for the cameras.
"Come on, Bubba!" yelled one hopeful fucktard, "come to Mama!"
Six-month-old Bubba stayed resolutely where he/she was.
"Christ, I'm starving," declared Mama eventually, taking a paper bag from her handbag and unwrapping a cake. Then a thought struck her. Quickly, before it could escape or die of lonliness, she snatched it from the air.
Waving the cake in front of the cave, she cooed, "Hey, Bubba, can you smell my muffin?"
Cue howls of laughter from the Scotch and blank looks from the rest of the Merkans.
1 When we were there, we were told: "You haven't been to Canada until you've been up Grouse Mountain." So it turns out we haven't been to Canada after all. Fuck me, where have we been?
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