Setting: Seattle, Washington, or as Mainlining calls it, SeaTTTle—the city of Trash, Tent, and Traffic.

Mainlining had reached his breaking point. The constant encounters with tent cities, aggressive panhandlers, and the omnipresent odor of urban decay were too much for his soul to bear. Every day, it felt like a personal attack on his finely-tuned sensibilities—like an extended, avant-garde performance art piece that no one had agreed to witness.

He decided that he needed to escape, to find a place where he could commune with nature and leave the relentless absurdities of SeaTTTle behind. His inspiration came from a source no one would have expected: the documentary "Grizzly Man," about Timothy Treadwell, the eccentric and ill-fated bear enthusiast who lived among the grizzlies in Alaska… until they ate him.

"I get it now," Mainlining thought, "Treadwell saw through the BS of society. He wanted something real, something pure. Alaska, that’s where the true freedom is. And besides, bears are probably more predictable than SeaTTTle's city council."

Armed with newfound determination, a second-hand copy of The Grizzly Man Diaries, and the absolute conviction that he could outdo Treadwell's efforts at befriending bears, Mainlining packed his bags.

Day 1: Departure and Arrival

Mainlining didn't tell a soul about his plans. Well, except AutoAdmit. He posted, “I'm leaving SeaTTTle for Alaska to live among the grizzlies. AMA.”

The replies were swift and mocking:

RSF: "You’re gonna get eaten, bro."

cowjoke: "As a distinguished Grizzly Curator, you won’t last a week."

Disco Fries: "Take video. For science."

Unfazed by the banter, Mainlining hopped on a flight to Anchorage with a one-way ticket, a GoPro, and a duffle bag stuffed with essentials: beef jerky, bear spray, a Bowie compilation on cassette, and a laminated printout of his favorite Treadwell quotes.

After landing, he rented a rusted-out Jeep and drove deep into the Alaskan wilderness, far away from the gaze of park rangers or concerned citizens. His destination: a secluded spot near Katmai National Park, Treadwell’s old stomping grounds.

“This is it,” he murmured to himself. “The ultimate escape. Just me, nature, and the bears.”

Day 3: Meeting the Locals

By the third day, Mainlining had found a spot to set up camp by a river teeming with salmon. He figured he’d start small—getting to know the bears from a respectful distance, slowly gaining their trust, just like Treadwell.

He set up his tent, turned on his GoPro, and narrated his first vlog: "Hello, friends and AutoAdmit enemies! Here I am, ready to become one with the Alaskan wilderness, away from the toxic nonsense of SeaTTTle. And look, there’s my first friend!”

He pointed to a grizzly lumbering near the riverbank, fishing for its evening meal. "I shall call him… Howard," he said, after a brief pause to think of a suitably dignified name.

Mainlining watched Howard for hours, whispering his thoughts into the GoPro. "Howard seems chill. Just wants some salmon, like any of us would." He tried to mimic Treadwell’s soft, conspiratorial tone, imagining a mystical connection forming between them.

Day 5: Bear Whispering (Darkly)

Encouraged by the lack of mauling on Day 1, Mainlining grew bolder. He started getting closer to the bears, talking to them in hushed tones. "Howard, my friend, we are but two lost souls in this wilderness, aren't we?"

To his surprise, Howard actually paused and glanced in his direction. "See? He's listening," Mainlining whispered to the camera. "They know I come in peace."

By Day 5, Mainlining was emboldened enough to stand closer to a group of bears. He'd spent the morning whispering affirmations to them from a distance and throwing them jerky snacks. "This is how you break the ice," he narrated, chucking another piece toward Howard.

Things were going well—until one of the bears decided it was more interested in the source of the jerky than the jerky itself. The bear lumbered over to Mainlining, sniffing with curiosity and, perhaps, mild annoyance.

Mainlining, in his GoPro narration mode, whispered, "It's all good, Howard. I respect your space. But if you want more jerky, we need to set some boundaries."

Unfortunately, bears don’t do boundaries.

The bear gave a low growl, and Mainlining, maintaining his on-camera composure, tried to keep calm. “Easy, buddy, just trying to vibe here…”

The bear lunged.

Mainlining screamed, tossing the GoPro into his backpack and running like a madman. He scrambled up a nearby tree, heart pounding, with Howard and a few curious friends snorting below.

The GoPro kept recording, capturing his voice as he panted, “Okay…okay…not quite as planned. Howard’s a bit grumpy. Must have SeaTTTle energy left in me.”

Day 8: The Hunger Games

By Day 8, things had taken a darker turn. Mainlining’s supplies were running low. The bears—Howard included—seemed to have developed a particular interest in him, sensing that he might be an uninvited guest in their domain.

“Okay, so,” Mainlining whispered into the camera from the safety of his tent, “I underestimated the bears’ appetite for…everything. Need to reassess my strategy.”

His new plan was simple: avoid becoming the entrée. He decided to up his game and establish himself as a dominant presence. Inspired by his AutoAdmit bravado, he created a new tactic: The Alpha Gambit.

The next morning, he emerged from his tent wearing his one pair of aviator sunglasses, a cowboy hat he found in a thrift store, and blasting Bowie’s "Space Oddity" on a Bluetooth speaker.

"Attention, bears!" he yelled in his best authoritative tone. “I am the new alpha of this territory. I come in peace but with strength!"

The bears were unimpressed.

Day 10: The Rescue That Wasn't

By Day 10, Mainlining was beginning to lose hope. He’d managed to avoid becoming a bear snack but was now very aware that his self-imposed exile was a terrible, terrible idea. His GoPro confessionals became darker.

“So, yeah… the dream was to escape the hellscape of SeaTTTle… but instead, I’m in another kind of hellscape. I mean, this isn’t exactly The Revenant, but… actually, it’s kind of worse because there’s no DiCaprio in sight, and I don’t even have a bear-proof vest.”

Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, a group of park rangers stumbled upon him.

“Oh, thank God,” he cried. "Rescue!"

But as they approached, one of them sighed deeply. “Sir, you’re not supposed to be here. This is a restricted area due to bear activity.”

Mainlining, desperate for human contact, tried to charm them. "Restricted? But I’m here to commune, you see? I’m making a documentary, like Treadwell but, you know, more aware.”

The rangers looked unimpressed. “Yeah, buddy, we’ve seen the movie. It doesn’t end well.”

Day 12: The Return to SeaTTTle

By Day 12, Mainlining had been "escorted" back to Anchorage, tired, hungry, and utterly disillusioned. He found a coffee shop with Wi-Fi and immediately logged back onto AutoAdmit.

“Back from Alaska,” he posted. “Bears suck. Returning to SeaTTTle where at least the threats are predictable.”

The replies rolled in:

RSF: “Told ya, bro.”

Disco Fries: “This is why you don’t try to ‘out-grizzly’ the Grizzly Man.”

cowjoke: "Welcome back. As a distinguished Bear Curator, your suffering was noted."

Mainlining leaned back in his chair, sipping his overpriced latte. He realized that maybe escaping to Alaska wasn’t the answer after all. At least in SeaTTTle, the dangers were more metaphorical than literal. Well, mostly.

As he pondered his next adventure, he logged back in to post: “Back from Alaska AMA. Also, anyone got Ambien?”

And thus, the legend of "Grizzly Main" was born—another chapter in the ever-unfolding saga of Mainlining, the man who tried to escape but always found his way back to the absurdities he knew best.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5596785&forum_id=2#48101964)