He says he's not coming back.

He said he's still smarting from the reaction the last time a bear was on the lam. And now this. Bear said we can all go to hell. We're trying to talk him into coming home, but, well, this one'll be tough. We care, Bear.

HAH! (Sorry, Bear, if you're reading. We keeeed because we bear). HAH!

Come again?

So we were driving, mainly because it's what we do, a lot, during the week. Driving. Up and down roads. Driving. Every f*cking day. Up and down. Back and forth. Through the circle. HEY LADY! YOU HAVE TO F*CKING YIELD! WE HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY! MOVE, B*TCH, GET OUT THE WAY...

So we were driving.

And we were listening to the ol' country music. And Garth came on. We remember fondly this Garth. We thought we'd give him a li'l listen. And then, maybe, a li'l sing-a-long.

"Rushing along in the wind..." Hey. Waitaminute. We used to pronounce the "A" in "along" longways like. We liked it that way. She was rushing along with the wind. Made sense to us. But when we stopped and listened, actually listened, well, we realized it was "headlong."

Eleven years of AAAAAAlong and now we know. Huh. And it's not "Every time (we) pass them wheat hills," either.

Now this isn't as bad as "You are the woman that I've always dreamed of, I knew if from the start ... I saw your face and that's the last I seen of my eyeball," but it's close.

Just sayin'.

We get it now

It came to us as a reality in the shower. As we soaped up our face all nice and clean-like, the scalding hot water launched itself at us. Again.

We now have a system, though.

Enjoying the nice warm wake-up shower goodness? Enjoy it. Scalding hot water launches itself at you? Scream like a li'l baby b*tch and turn the hot water down just a smidge. Keep b*tching under your breath and --

Hey. Waitaminute.

If Nemo over there had stood naked in a scolding hot shower for a week, then we'd be impressed. Sh*t. We might even be impressed if he held his breath for 20 seconds, tops, in the stream of boiling adversity.

So we get it now. Impressive, this chilling in a bowl for a week with people monitoring your every breath, into an oxygen tank, no less, and massaging your fingers, which we secretly hoped would fall off half way through.

What? Fingers? Nevermind.

We still don't get it

We just don't. Why all the press?

We held our breath for a minute, maybe 1:04, just to see if we could do this. Piece of cake. And it wasn't soggy, wet cake, because if the "magician" wanted some, then he'd've had to eat it either in the sphere or through a tube, which is why the cake would be wet, and one often says, "piece of cake," when something is easy to do.

We know. The joke bombed as bad as Blaine over there. Primetime record our ass. Can he go back to "Pick a card, any card," now?

"You know, that funny movie."

We're so off the TC bandwagon and the need to perpetually tool on his general hilarity.

But we will say this: when the dental assistant, whose breath smells like rubber gloves and who loves to garden on the weekends, says she won't "see that movie because Tom Cruise is a little crazy," then, well, ol' Danny boy is f*cked.

The dental assistant also loved "Philip Seymour Hoffman in, you know, that funny movie with the Friends star and that Ben Stiller guy."

She doesn't want to see United 93, though. And she thinks it's a good thing we've been flossing more lately.

Just sayin'.