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So, Manchester NH police caught a bear last week.
I have one question: what the fuck is that bear doing in Manchester!? Does it have the “disease”? Is Yogi pimping out Boo Boo to buy meth? I know this, ain’t no picnic baskets in The Queen City when this is the main drag
I gotta give it to the Manchester Police, they safely got that bear the fuck outta that hellhole of a city without killing it. I live about 10 minutes away and a few years ago our local PD was brought in to rescue my brother-in-law from a rabid raccoon. Yes, a fully grown man who was in a vehicle at the time, called the popo to save him from a foaming speed bump. The cop shot at the damn thing six times and couldn’t get the little garbage thief. At one point, my brother-in-law offered to take the shot for him. I know because I was there and laughing so hard they nearly called an ambulance as my sides were splitting open and it was freaking out the trash panda. Come to think of it, scrolling through my towns police log years ago, all you ever heard about was rabid raccoons and ducks in storm vents. Those were the days. I own guns now. We’ve had bears too, but they mostly just fuck up our sheds trying to get berries off of trees which is why we elect to buy plastic sheds now. Welcome to NH, watch out for smooshed sheds and rabid raccoons.
But this happened in Manchester. Oh, what a 10 minute drive can do to crush your soul. Like that time last month when some chick nearly rammed a cop car with a needle sticking out of her arm. She’s a looker too.
Or when 24 people got arrested in a drug dragnet. I bet you anything that they were living together in a room in Temple Street when this happened.
Yeah, everywhere has a drug problem. It’s an epidemic that doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere anytime soon. But how many times can you say that a hooker tried picking you up at your local corner store? Mr. Turtlelette can say two times at two different stores. I’m willing to bet that it was this chick, otherwise he probably would’ve taken her up on it.
Oh, Puddin! No.. just no. Go to New Horizons, they can help you. Hell, things are so rough these days that you can go literally anywhere in manchester and get help. Ask the parking authority and I’ll bet my last dollar theyth drive you to rehab. Give a kid 5 bucks and ththey let you borrow their bike, if ya gotta. And the Merrimack Meth Muppet (my very first blog!)
Manchester is home to some fine shrubbery and whatnot, like at Nutt’s Pond. Seriously, the most beautiful and scenic place to get rolled by 31-year-old grandparents looking for bus fare.
Thankfully, it’s not all shit now. They redid a lot of the mills and turned them into unaffordable luxury lofts and nice little bistros and shit (WTF is a bistro, anyway?). On May 3rd they had a $2 taco crawl that sounded fun. I was going to go, but I remembered that it’s spring time in Manchester and decided against it. Two buck tacos can sell me on a lot of shit, you don’t want to know what I would do for a good taco. Mr. Turtlette does and he can attest to the fact that I put Deskie to shame. But I’m not shlepping my family around The Queen City for cheap street meat. Even I don’t hate my kids that much. Besides, you can do that any day if you go to the right corner store.
This poor fucking bear, though. That motherfucker sauntered into Manchvegas, realized he wasn’t in Kansas anymore and found the only tree in the entire city and hauled ass up there, clinging on for dear life. I don’t blame him. When what passes as the ”woods” looks like a forever campground for blothy faced street warriors, I would hide in a tree too.
Oh look, I found Motel Mogadishu’s laundromat! Funny, I didn’t find a single condom anywhere. I find it hard to believe that no one’s bumping uglies over there. One more reason to double wrap your pork steeple if you find The Meth Muppet in your bed.
Thankfully, they’ve got a great college that looks like a meat-packing plant so you have a diploma to set ablaze to keep you warm at night.
Never get me wrong, I love Manchester, I really do. I really love everyone that lives and works there, too. Except for that guy I once saw walking in the hospital district dressed head to toe in powder blue, wearing a cowboy hat and loooooong pointed shoes that my cousin screamed “Just in time to be an asshole, pal!” at as he checked his powder blue watch. You know who you are and I fucking HATE you. You literally ruined about two thirds of my day just by being you. God damned space cowboy of the hospital district. The guy wasn’t even on drugs, he was carrying a brief case and his fucked up shoes probably cost more than my entire car with me in it! This cuntflap made me feel like I understand completely what a person’s last straw is before they turned to drugs. It’s a miracle that I’m sober.
That bear might need an intervention. This is his rock bottom. I think every Manchester addict can say they once slept in a tree, too. Get help.
Anybody got a bus pass I could use? Hit me up [email protected]