People up here are crazy.
I was watching the Soup on Friday night, like I do every Friday night, and they were talking about a show called "Stranger Among Bears." This guy (in Alaska, no doubt) lives with bears. Seriously. And he talks to them and hits them if they try to get rough with him because bears aren't supposed to get rough with people. (Which reminds me of a few weeks ago, the morning show I listen to at work was talking about a lady that got attacked by a tiger. They talking about how everyone was like, "The tiger went crazy!" and the guys on the radio were like, "No, the tiger defended itself. It's a tiger. That's what tigers do. If it jumped on a bike and started riding it, then they could say it went crazy.") Anyway, who lives with bears and hits them?
We hear things about hikers or people jogging in the woods coming across a bear and instead of turning around and going the opposite way, they keep going forward. If the bear messes with them, they try to fight it. Like, fist fight it. These people need to be institutionalized because there is no way you're making it out of a bear fight in one piece.
Moose are also not to be messed with. When we found out we were moving up here, Kyle was freaked out. He told me that someone in his class told him about a guy who lived up here. The guy hit a moose with his car. The moose walked away and the guy died. (Of course, he told it in a very dramatic way. Kyle is dramatic.) I don't know if that story is true, but I would not want to hit a moose with anything. The baby moose that I saw a few months ago was the size of a Clydesdale horse. Baby moose = Clydesdale.
Tina was telling me about a drunk (there are a lot of drunks and homeless people here) that they saw a few years ago. He was taunting a moose and saying that he was "at one with nature." It's amazing that he didn't become "at one with a pair of moose antlers."
