
The annual Buffalo Exchange fur-donation program is right around the corner, kicking off on the 14th of this month through April 22nd. For those unfamiliar with the "Coats for Cubs" program, it's a drive to collect authentic fur and shearling pieces—even just trims and collars—for the Humane Society to use as bedding for injured and orphaned wildlife cuz it reminds them of their mommies. Take a minute to think about how sweet and sad and cute that is.
Now gather up whatever fur you're not using (tattered and battered is a-okay) and bring it down to any Buffalo location between those dates, and tell them it's a donation for the program. Voila. (If you want to claim a tax deduction, mail it to The Humane Society of the United States, attn: Coats for Cubs, 2100 L St, NW, Washington, DC, 20037).


I don't want this to become a regular feature on the blog, but I'm a sucker for a lost pet in need. Singer Alela Diane has lost her cat, Bramble Rose. To make matters worse, she is about to embark on a national tour today. Since touring is difficult enough without fearing your cat is stuck in a tree (or worse), she made this handy flier just in case you cross paths with Bramble Rose.
If you happen to spot the cat, please email her immediately. Thank you.
End Hits: What's that? Art Alexakis' Labradoodle is missing? We're on it!
Here's part one. Here's part two.
This is my favorite bear attack story of all time. Hugh Glass was a hella grizzled frontiersman—"a sailor, a reluctant pirate with Jean Lafitte, and an honorary Pawnee"—whose hella-grizzledness helped him survive the most badass ordeal in the history of asses:
Near the forks of the Grand River in present-day Perkins County, in August 1823, while scouting alone for game for the expedition's larder, Glass surprised a Grizzly mother bear with her two cubs. Before he could fire his rifle, the bear charged, picked him up, and threw him to the ground. Glass got up, grappled for his knife, and fought back, stabbing the animal repeatedly as the grizzly raked him time and again with her claws.Despite his injuries, Glass regained consciousness. He did so only to find himself abandoned, without weapons or equipment, suffering from a broken leg, the cuts on his back exposing bare ribs, and all his wounds festering. Glass lay mutilated and alone, more than 200 mi (320 km) from the nearest settlement at Fort Kiowa on the Missouri.

In one of the more remarkable treks known to history, Glass set his own leg, wrapped himself in the bear hide his companions had placed over him as a shroud, and began crawling. To prevent gangrene, Glass laid his wounded back on a rotting log and let the maggots eat the dead flesh.Deciding that following the Grand River would be too dangerous because of hostile Native Americans, Glass crawled overland south toward the Cheyenne River. It took him six weeks to reach it.
Glass survived mostly on wild berries and roots. On one occasion he was able to drive two wolves from a downed bison calf, and feast on the meat. Reaching the Cheyenne, he fashioned a crude raft and floated down the river, navigating using the prominent Thunder Butte landmark. Aided by friendly natives who sewed a bear hide to his back to cover the exposed wounds, Glass eventually reached the safety of Fort Kiowa.
That's all. No biggie.
Sarah McLachlan speaks out, soulfully, about internet cruelty to animals.
Bless you, writer/producer/director Crystal Delahanty.
(Also, the pug in the toilet totally wins.)
(Continued from this morning.)
PART II: KESAGAKE
Now, Old Two Toes was a frightening bear, there can be no doubt. But just one year before he devoured Frank Welch, 61, and subsequently lost his life in the high forests of Wyoming, an even more fearsome beast was chomping humans on the other side of the world. His name was Kesagake.
Back in 1915, you see, before every inch of Japan was covered in electric lobsters and time-traveling phone booths and bearproof karaoke pods, they still had things like snow and villages and bears. And in one such snowy village, some very bad shit went down. Kesagake, the bear, awoke early from his hibernation. Fuck! He was sooo hungry! He went to the cottage of the Otu family, looking for delicious corn. Instead, he found a delicious lady and a baby, so he ate them.
The villagers formed an armed guard to find Kesagake and exact revenge. Kesagake fled into the woods, leading all the guardsmen on a mad chase down what they thought was his bear trail. But then Kesagake was all, "PSYCH, BITCHEZ!" and doubled back to the Miyoke house, where everyone else was hiding. THEN HE ATE THEM.
Yayo, Miyoke YasutarÅ's wife, was preparing a late repast while carrying her fourth son, Umekichi, on her back. She heard a rumbling noise outside, but before she could investigate the bear broke through a window and entered the house. The cook pot on the hearth was overturned, dousing the flames, and in the ensuing panic the oil lamp was put out as well, plunging the house into darkness. Yayo tried to flee the house, but her second son, YÅ«jirÅ, clung to her legs, tripping her as she ran. The bear attacked her and bit the child Umekichi, whom she was carrying.Odo had remained at the house as the only bodyguard. When he ran for the door, the bear released the mother and child to pursue him. Yayo then escaped with her children. Odo attempted to hide behind furniture, but was clawed in the back. The bear then mauled KinzÅ, the third son of the Miyoke family, and Haruyoshi, the fourth son of the Saito family, killing them, and bit Iwao, third son of SaitÅ family. Next to be targeted was Take, SaitÅ IshigorÅ's pregnant wife. As the animal advanced she pled for her life and that of her unborn child, but it was in vain. She too was attacked, killed, and partially eaten.
WHAAAAAT THAAAAA FAAAAACK!?
The other night, on the cable television (which is mine as of three weeks ago! Three magical weeks!), I took a break from Degrassi: The Next Generation (one can only go there for so many consecutive hours) to watch a Discovery Channel program entitled Bear Feeding Frenzy. Bear Feeding Frenzy is about a man who, for the purposes of science, fashions a tent out of smoked salmon, dunks it in sexy she-bear urine, puts a peanut-butter-smeared humannequin inside, then leaves the whole thing in the middle of a heavily populated bear sanctuary, thus irrefutably proving that bears have an insatiable appetite for human flesh. It's science! As the bears devour the tent, the man sits several feet away in a small plastic cube (or, as it's known in science, PREDATOR SHIELD™), yelling things like, "BOY, BEARS SURE DO WANT TO EAT HUMAN FLESH," and "THE ONLY WAY OUT OF HERE IS THROUGH A GRIZZLY'S COLON!" and "IF IT WEREN'T FOR THE PREDATOR SHIELD™ AND THE FACT THAT I AM NOT MADE OF PEANUT BUTTER AND FISH INNARDS, THESE BEARS WOULD WASTE NO TIME IN GOBBLING ME FOR SURE." He also discovers that bears, unlike himself, do not enjoy trail mix.
That whole experience led me to hunger for real knowledge about bear attacks (is my family safe!!!??!?!?!?!?!), which led me to the life-changing Wikipedia page List of fatal bear attacks in North America (by decade). Oh. Oh. Ohhhhhhh. Make your way to this page posthaste. (IF YOU ARE NOT A COWARD AND/OR MADE OF FISH INNARDS!)
It is a sad place, and horrific, and fascinating.
As far as I can discern, contrary to what Bear Feeding Frenzy would have me believe, a bear will only eat you if: 1. You get too close to its baybay, 2. You get too close to its moose carcass, 3. You keep it in a concrete pen and throw dog food at it. Do not do these things, and you will not experience the sinking feeling that comes with a bear's hot mouth closing on your face.
(Stand by later today for Part II: Kesagake!)
We're running a piece on 24-Hour Comics Day in next week's paper—here's an image we weren't able to use, drawn by local cartoonist David Chelsea in a previous year's challenge.

Seasons change and old father time grumbles and throws his big dick in the dirt and... what was I talking about? Anyway, summer's over, dudes! Today is the last day I'll be classing up this office with my august presence. Before you start having dangerous heart palpitations, calm down. It's more than likely you'll see a post here and there from me on Blogtown, and, of course I'll be in the comments, movie nights, etc. I know. You're relieved. Wipe that sweat off your brow and perk up, little trooper!
I will, however, miss being around all these lovely people. I'll also miss the ice cream man. (I never got to ask him if he'd ever killed anyone, though I meant to. ) I will miss Festive Sombrero and the Effigy of Molly, my predecessor editorial intern.

Since I'm not saying goodbye, I'll leave you with this important message instead. Drink deeply of the cup of life, to the fullest! Just like this cat, except, you know, it doesn't have a cup. Marjorie Skinner tells me cats drinking from faucets are ALL THE RAGE these days. Happy Cat Friday, ya'll!
Also, the Stargate shows are terrible. I wouldn't watch them, if I were you.
Via ZooBorns, my favorite place on the whole internet.
We had a good run with Chuck Norris, Chocolate Rain, Dramatic Chipmunk and Leeroy Jenkins, but it's all over now. Nothing can stop this MechaCat juggernaut, and our best scientists and numbersmiths believe that by January we'll all be living under the cruel (if totally cuddly wuddly) paw of what religious scholars have taken to calling the Omega Meme.
These are the End Times. Vaya con dios.
Do you like whimsical bathroom accessories? Do you erupt into gales of laughter at the sight of a drowning feline? Then you will LOVE "Tinkles the Toilet Cat!"

From Collections Etc.:
Listen for shrieks from the bathroom when your guests open the toilet lid to find Âa soaking wet cat! This black and white cat looks none too happy about falling into the toilet! Attaches to the underside of the toilet seat rim with suction cups included. Plastic. This item is not a toy.
Even better? Tinkles is on sale right now for the low, low price of only $8.95! (For even more fun, replace Tinkles with a real cat, and watch your guests scream with glee as he lacerates their testicles.)

Man blames cat for downloaded child pornography
Keith R. Griffin... was charged Wednesday with 10 counts of possession of child pornography after detectives found more than 1,000 child pornographic images on his computer, according to a news release.Griffin told detectives he would leave his computer on and his cat would jump on the keyboard.
When he returned, there would be strange material downloaded, the release states.
Dear Guy in the Ice Cream Truck that Stops at Our Office Every Day:
As you may have noticed I did not come crashing out of our office door today to buy an Orange Dream ice cream bar, or Choco Taco. That is because I was upstairs in our production department trying to work our BLEEPING STUPID EPSILON SCANNER WHICH IS A BLEEPING PIECE OF BLEEPING BLEEP. Our production department is in the rear of the building which means I couldn't hear the harmonious tones of "Turkey in the Straw" coming up the street, and therefore I guess I apparently missed my chance.
NOW I'M NOT MAD AT YOU. But here's something you need to understand: I have kind of a PRESSURE FILLED JOB, mmm-kay? And it's kind of best for EVERYBODY if I receive, on a daily basis, the ice cream treat that keeps me from picking up that BLEEPING PIECE OF BLEEP EPSILON SCANNER AND STICKING MY FOOT UP ITS BLEEP!
So in the interest of our employees' morale and preservation of office equipment, I would really, really, really, REALLY appreciate it if, in the future, you take a moment to ask someone why I'm not there. I could be dead for all you know, and unfortunately, you would probably be the only person around here who would care enough to ask.
So to reiterate, if I'm not waiting for you on the curb with money in hand when you drive up, please ask someone where I am. If they don't know, dial 9-1-1 immediately.
Thank you in advance for your cooperation in this matter,
Wm. Steven Humphrey
p.s. Bring me a Choco Taco now.
p.p.s. Here is a video of a shark eating an ice cream.
p.p.p.s I had a video of a cat eating an ice cream, but this one is better.
UPDATE!!! p.p.p.p.s Wanna do something funny? Grab your laptop, run outside and play the following mp3 right next to your co-workers window. They'll come busting out the door, and then be horribly disappointed when there's no ice cream!! Ha! Ha! Ha! (Sniff. I hate everyone.)
Bonus question: How many times do you think you'd wear it before everybody said, "CORNY!"
1. I have a subscription to Cat Fancy. (It was a gift.)
2. Last night at the bar, I said, "Does it smell like cat pee out here? Is it me?" and my friend said, "Let's face it: It's probably you."
Via.
In a little over a month I'll be back in our beloved city of Portland, Oregon and far, far away from the hills and burritos and super duper gayness of San Francisco, California. While I will miss these things very, very much I am extremely happy to be coming home. I imagine Odysseus felt exactly like this after sailing across the treacherous icy waters of the ancient Aegean Lakes into his home port of Odysseusland after killing the fire dragons, crossing the Bridge to Terabithia, destroying the Death Star and finally *triumphantly* forgetting Sarah Marshall. Or what have you.
In honor of my return and because I never effing blogged ONE TIME about San Francisco I give you Swoops the Attack Bird.
Swoops and Swoops' babies live in a shrubbery downtown near the corner of California and Front Streets. Swoops attacks anything which comes near the family shrub with a patented (okay probably not patented but it damn well should be) dive bombing technique. Swoops' reign of terror has been covered by CNN and the HuffPo and, as this particular blogger describes, the little blackbird "is pissed".
Clearly, Portland needs some kind of adorably dangerous downtown animal. Suggestions most welcome in the comments.
I came home to find two stations still churning out the old signal. One had a creepy end of the world, ghost channel feel, explaining what had happened to the signal, the other was All My Children, which also has a creepy end of the world feel.
I guess I'll be watching a lot more videos of cats descending stairs like Slinkys. Especially when I'm drunk, because when I'm drunk I also go down stairs like a Slinky. The television could never provide me with this kind of surreal connectivity.*
*unless I was watching America's Funniest Home Videos or something.
Hi, I'm Will Radik, and I'll be your new intern for today! Working at the Merc is great, yo. Fo' realz, shizzle. There's a Batman mug and a dry-erase board. I ain't gotta pay no taxes on this shit, cause I ain't gettin' paid, son! It's better than getting dry-humped on a Gravitron!

I'd tell you a little about myself, but, if you don't already know who I am, you're probably sooooo out of the loop that you're just not worth my time. I mean, Melissa Lion blogged about me, for heaven's sake! I should be getting so many free steaks and blowjobs that I simply can't walk anywhere, because I'm just tripping over piles of meat, into puddles of bodily fluid.
Anyway, today is cat Friday, right? Or it's biscuit Friday? I forget. Who cares? It's not like anyone ever criticizes new interns on here. Have both, and a hot mom who raps, while she magically transforms coins into food:
Wait a minute. Did she say, "orgy?"
How did Keyboard Cat get his official "officially funny" designation? By cracking Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert's shit up.
What follows is a conversation I'm 100% sure I'll be having with my future child. A dad RIGHTLY berates his teen son for crying like a goddamn baby and then posting it on the internet.
That alone would make the following video hilarious enough… but with the addition of Keyboard Cat? This is the most priceless thing you'll see all day.
Hard-hitting news update:
Bricker is part of an amateur dance troupe called the Boris and Natasha dancers, performing in Cabaret Boris & Natasha at Performance Works NW this Friday and Saturday night. Boris and Natasha were the names of choreographer Linda Austin's now dead cats. Boris was a girl, Natasha a boy, and they were 17 when they eventually bit the dust last year. The troupe also includes four other prominent local luminaries:
This is what I get for bugging David Bragdon for another exclusive, following the tour of the fen.
"You will get to witness our creative process first-hand," he wrote, in an email earlier this week encouraging me to come to the rehearsal. "While the critics from the Oregonian, Willamette Week, Variety, People, Us, American Dance Quarterly, etc. will be able to come Friday and judge whether or not we have our moves down, you will be able to write insightfully about where our moves came from."
It's all very serious. None of the group has had any formal dance training—I, unfortunately, have had plenty, which is why I had to turn down Austin's offer to be part of the troupe next year—but at last night's rehearsal, they all seemed to be doing a reasonably good job of remembering their moves. Austin has assembled six other acts to perform in the show, including a performance piece about sex addiction, some accordionist dancers, and a "fuzzy feline dance troupe" called Cattitude. I'd have posted this on Cat Friday but apparently we're not calling it Cat Friday any more. Plus, Austin says the $10-$15 tickets are nearly sold out, so I guess it's Cat Thursday.
I know it's her job, but goddammit. Is it a coincidence that she sends me all these cat emails on Fridays? Why no, I don't believe that it is. Get out of my head, Trisha.

Portland Center Stage has teamed up with the Cat Adoption Team to host a Cat Adoption Day at the Armory on June 14th. Some of the kitties have been named after Grey Gardens characters—so if you're looking for a new pal AND you're a huge theater nerd, OR you're looking for a pet that doubles as a marketing gimmick (albeit an adorable one!), this is obviously a once-in-a-lifetime, stars aligning kind of a deal. Portland Center Stage will also be collecting donations for CAT in the lobby of the Armory—they're looking for dry cat food, break-away cat collars, and scoopable cat litter. And don't forget: Bring two dozen clean, empty cat food cans to the Armory by May 13, snag a free ticket to Grey Gardens, AKA the show about the cat ladies.
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