Hey, I’m a bear, right. I’m covered in hair, I’m a little aggressive, and I like eating honey. Especially from Land Rovers when the windows are down – or not, depending on my mood. I’m also a bit up and down – one minute I’m crazily happy, the next I’m retreating back to my cave feeling like the world’s going to cave in on me at any minute. But I tell you what really gets my goat – really winds me up, man. It’s people who think that because I’m bipolar, I’m actually a polar bear.

I’m not! I love the wild, man. I love the forests and the Rockie Mountains – I love jars of honey, catching fish and sleeping for long, long periods… and I love beating up humans. Them icebergs ain’t for me and you’d never catch me anywhere north of the Arctic circle – them polar bears are crazy, man, I tell you. Mad. And all they ever eat is fish – I mean, I love a bit of sushi – I love it as much as the next bear, but every meal? Not for me – I’m a fan of the Jamie Oliver diet – a bit of vegetation, a bit of meat, a bit of fish – wazz it all up and you’ve got one wicked meal. Wash it all down with some bonzo river water – there’s nothing better. Fish three meals a day, though – what’s all that about?

So it makes me really mad to hear people saying – “hey, he’s a bipolar bear, he’s from the Arctic” or “hey, he’s a bipolar bear, maybe he’s got his winter coat on?” What a load of cock! The other day, someone said, “hey, if he’s a bipolar bear, does that mean he likes both male and female polar bears?”

Heck man, no it does not! Let’s get one thing straight here – I may have moodswings that go up and down more often than a whore’s knickers on a particularly busy night, but I’m a ladies’ bear, pure and simple. In fact, I’d rather be called a polar bear than a bi-bear – there’s such a thing as pride, you know! What with all of these “teddy bears” that you humans are so fond of, us bears have got a reputation to repair. Only the other day, I broke into a family vehicle and found this book called “Rupert the Bear” – who the bloody hell ever thought of calling a bear Rupert? That’s a totally gay bear.

No, bears are called “Brutus” or “Kong”, not “Rupert” or “Tarquin” or whatever monstrosities you humans are calling us now. And hey, I can talk on behalf of the polar bears now, we don’t want to be part of your “save the planet” bullcrap. Yeah, we’ve all seen those pictures of polar bears on little icebergs about to drown because you lot are ruining the planet with your SUVs and your 4×4s. Leave us out of it, man!

So remember, if you come across me in the forest one day, I’m neither bi nor polar – I’m bipolar, so you’d better pray I’m in one of my good moods!