A project that started out like any other—a concept, an idea. Something to write about to pass the time. Something fun. Something out of left field for me.
Thus, the concept of The Diary of The Wasteland Bear God was conceived on a night of a drunken stupor filled with beer, pizza and a head full of ideas. Originally, he was just to be a Druid (from the World of Warcraft universe) stuck as a giant bear, roaming through the Wasteland. Stirred from hibernation/a spell that was cast on him, at first you’ll him be “#savage” and ruthless. Time will go on and you will start to see the evolution of things.
You will notice a few things right away. Like for example, The Maker, or the obvious breaking of the Fourth Wall. It is a series that incorporates pop culture, commits incest, adultery, injects steroids and other drugs, wins the lottery, spends all the winnings, bankrupts, and has a red-headed bastard child with an alien from another planet while getting cashed outside. It was not designed to be tame, is cruel, crude, and not for the easily offended.
The point being is, yes, yes it is probably stupid as balls. The thing is that as long as I enjoy doing it, I will keep at it and write. It doesn’t matter if your audience is hundreds, thousands, millions, or just one. As long as you care about your craft or whatever you are doing, that’s what matters.
So, as I said before that I would be reintroducing The Diary of The Wasteland Bear God. Without further ado. . .
Disclaimer: The Following Entry has been Rated R for RAWR-nchy by the Asshole Association of No Fucks Given.
Keep Reading at Your Own Risk. Soap, bleach and other brain scrubbers are not supplied.
You Were Warned.
Season One: Pilot Episode
The Diary of The Wasteland Bear God
“Behold, He, who has wrote down in his diary with the blood of his foes. . .The Diary of The Wasteland Bear God. . .in The Wasteland! Bask in His gory glory! For He has killed for your sins!” —Elevator Jaymes “The Revealed,” Mighty Bear Erotica 3:21
Have set foot outside my magical cave, and started wandering the wasteland. I still have yet to give all my materials to my canine companion. The weight is unbearable. Over some tons but at least I have chicken.
I gave up 20 lbs of CRAM to a wandering droid. They still don’t know I am stalking them, or that I have picked their butts of fusion cores. I suspect that they will get angry when their sensors and motors overheat. Fuck, am I a heavy son bitch.
I took my robot consort and turned it into a pony—a majestic, beautiful, mother trucking pony! Envy me, Wastelanders! ENVY YOUR ALMIGHTY BEAR GOD. He, who rides a fucking robotic unicorn of mass destruction. Next stop. That one settlement on the east Boston shore, near the lighthouse. I’m coming for you. Hard.
I am sad. So, fucking sad. My robotic unicorn of utter devastation was stolen in the night, or that lil’ shit ran away—I don’t know, but I’m so pissed! And sad. RAWR! I lost 30 fusion cores, 2 power armor sets, 20 cases of Target Limited Edition
I lost 30 fusion cores, 2 power armor sets, 20 cases of Target Limited Edition Quantum Nuka Cola, and—WHERE THE HELL IS MY UNDERWEAR!? I bet that damn, dirty Super Mutant Grell took it. Although, that may explain why my nuts are glowing green slightly. I better not have to amputate. If I have
Although, that may explain why my nuts are glowing green slightly. I better not have to amputate. If I have to, I swear to myself, I will be riding someone’s ass hard tonight. I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU, HELENA! Your. . .cold. . .dismembered body. Delicious.
I have found my unicorn of mass destruction! It was stolen alright. Some Raiders thought it’d be cute to try and piss me off. Well, I got that bitch back, and blew so much smoke up their ass—ha ha, it was a whole new meaning to “billowing smoke” or “blowing smoke up their ass.”
Something. . .WHATEVER! I’m happy. That’s what matters! Not what you’re feeling, you insignificant gnat!
I do wonder, though, what’s for dinner? I could go for some lovely Mirelurk scrambled eggs, Sugarbombs, a Deathclaw steak, a Dirty Wastelander, and maybe a cocktail of all my chems—THE BREAKFAST OF WASTELANDER CHAMPIONS! Someone is definitely getting their skull [and ass] rocked today!
I pistol whipped a babe. No, not bae, you shitbag! Babe. A chick. A girl. A woman. A female with a fully functioning reproductive system. Well, it was fully functional. . .until I was through. That stingy wench wanted 2k caps, though. 2k! Unfortunately, she wasn’t susceptible to the cap glitch, since she didn’t have any ammo. They used to say “Go eat some pussy!” Well, friends (who were slaughtered for the remark—assholes.) I did, thus why I had my meat pie. I just have to add. . .ROAST BEEF!
I am. . . A MECHANICAL BEAR GOD! I have slain all my bear brethren and devoured their souls. Next is the dirty crabs. NO ENDANGERED SPECIES LIST CAN SAVE YOU NOW, CRABBY!
I farted while using my shoulder mounted Fat Mans and wiped out all of my settlements. I am going to need more worshipers—and soon!
On the plus side of things. . .Evil Cowards does go great on my playlist of Fall on Your Sword, and Electric Six—naturally.
Ah, those damn rich kids! I’m looking at you, Dick.