I wanna know ...
where I need to go to get bear roadkill.
All I get is nasty-a** muskrats, flattened cats, semi-rabid fluffy white dogs and an endless stream of Richardson's ground squirrels (them's good eatin'!).
How is a man supposed to brag to his kids about runnin' down a Richardson's ground squirrel?
"You shoulda seen him, son, he was 5" high so help me god. He just ran outta da bush and, smack, straight into my tire. Bastard wrecked a spoke, he did."