12/2/15
I opened my e-mail this morning to find this little snippet, sent via the desk of one N.P. Yuggoth. A Drudge report article laid out a rumor that Leonardo DiCaprio gets raped by a bear in some movie. The rumor is false, apparently, but this dude Tim Miller, Jeb Bush’s communications director, was confused about the real life risks of bear rape:
Which begs the question: is it better to be raped by a bear or eaten by a bear? So I started by looking up the average size of a bear’s penis. Shockingly, there is not much information. I did find out, however, that a modern polar bear’s penis bone (bears break their dicks easy!) is 7.3 inches. Okay, so that’s the length of the bone itself, on average. If you add the meat, let’s say your typical polar bear possesses a nine-inch cock. Which is impressive but manageable.
Being a dude, I’ve only got two holes that a bear might choose to use for the rape, and I don’t think bears dig jaw as much as humans do. Plus, there’s the factor of dominance, so I’m guessing ol’ Smokey is fixin’ to bend me over and have at my supple little asshole. When a one-ton, nine-inch dicked, angry, horny, rapist of a bear has me pinned down & starts fluffling himself up, I reckon it’s best not to struggle. Remind myself that it’ll end. Take a deep breath. At best, I survive & have to bear (heh) the shameful memories of each violent thrust; each huge burst of bear semen flying into my guts. The grunts; the drool landing on my head in thick globs. At worst, the inside parts of my asshole will come flying out as he extracts his dong, and I’ll be left to weep & shiver as all of my blood drains from my ass & I give up the goat. It’s hell, it’s pure hell. Plus, assuming I survive, no one will even believe me as I hobble back into the village, incontinent and gaping. The rumors will fly. My life may never be the same.
Still, the bear could have eaten me alive. Would this be preferable? The helplessness is just as real, right? And I’m assuming here; but the pain of having my meat ripped from the bone as I scream & fight in vain, until I thankfully gasp my last breath, has got to be worse than that of having a nine-inch penis forcibly thrust into my dry, hemorrhaged asshole by a one-ton behemoth, right? Maybe not. Frankly, I’m upset this article ever made it to my inbox, thus sending me on this wild, hypothetical tangent.
I don’t think there’s a clear answer here. I’m also never going near bears. Never again.
Frank X Maloney
