BEARMAGEDDON H.Q. — Are you sick of me talking about the Bearpocalypse? I don't care. This is happening whether you want it to or not — and the bears just crossed a line I am not cool with.

When they started scaling sheer cliffs, I got a little nervous. When they broke into a highway patrol facility, I got a little more on edge. And when the 1,000-pound bear showed up, I just blacked out for about an hour and woke up weeping in the shower fully clothed.

But things have elevated and become personal. If you bears want to learn to rock climb, do some light breaking and entering on the weekends, or even show off your behemoth champion, so be it. But don't steal my stuff, bro. Not cool.

I know we're headed for an inevitable war, but there can still be some comportment between our species — rules of engagement if you will. You can do your breaking and entering, and we'll keep visiting Yellowstone and invading your turf. But how about I don't steal your personal stash of honey, and you don't steal that new Bluetooth speaker on my porch from Amazon?

If you agree, then do something about this soldier of yours, will you?

Kristin Levine is one of ours, bears, and she was probably really looking forward to whatever was in that box. Was it a bag of rare Starburst flavors? Was it a new universal remote? Or maybe a sprinkler head to replace the one she accidentally broke in her neighbor's yard? I have no idea what was in that box, but I don't care. It was Kristin's and not the bear's.

So, while you all might be enjoying dragonfruit Starburst back at Bear H.Q. as you all plan our demise, could you just be cool and stop stealing our stuff? I mean off the porch, too. That's just lazy. Had it been a bear heist then I'd have respect, but right now I just feel sorry for you, bears. Embarrassing.

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