Big Foot Saved Me from Killing People

I have nothing to write about. It’s NaNo time, and all of my free brain cells are taken up with trying to rein myself in on the body count in this book. I have to weigh my options carefully and think to myself, “Does this person really NEED to die?” Sadly, the answer is usually, “Yes. Painfully.”

Having said that, whenever I need a break from killing not-so-innocent bystanders, I come back down to Earth with stupid television. My favorite stupid television right now is that show where the people go out into the woods in the middle of the night with night vision cameras strapped to them that look all Blair Witch Projecty and they hunt for Big Foot. There have been about four seasons of this show and they have never once found Big Foot, but yet, at the end of every episode they a) high five each other and congratulate each other on another successful reconnaissance mission and b) they show teaser clips from next week’s episode. I am horribly confused:

1. I cannot tell what differentiates a successful mission from an unsuccessful mission, other than no one fell over a log in the dark and needed stitches. It sure as hell doesn’t involve actually finding Big Foot.

2. I take serious issue with the fact that these “scientists” apparently were allowed to skip their English credits in college because they keep using the term “Big Foots” as the plural of Big Foot when it should obviously be “Big Feet.”

3. The logo on the show is very disturbing and I’m pretty sure it’s racist against Big Feet. It’s an artist’s rendering of a Big Foot screaming in rage. There has been zero evidence from any of the sightings that Big Foot has either beaten, raped, or killed anyone, but these people are furthering the stereotype that large hairy people who live in secluded sections of the wilderness must be violent. Goofy went camping all the time on the cartoons, and he was a veritable gentle giant.

4. You “researchers” (quotation marks means I think it’s doubtful you are actually researchers) are never going to find Big Foot because you’ve got the cameras turned around to record your own faces. It’s sixty minutes of you opening your eyes in surprise and hissing, “What was that?” and looking like you’re going to poop. Joke’s on you, butt munch, THAT was a mountain lion and you very well might be eaten.

Just once, God, PLEASE just once, let Big Foot come out, do a little Magic Mike strip tease dance, then beat the crap out of these people. Please. I promise to kill fewer people in my book if you can just let that happen on ONE episode. Amen.

UPDATE: I tried to find a great video of Big Foot dancing, but they were all stupid and obviously fake. One guy didn’t even try, it was just him dancing in front of a a tripod camera in a gorilla suit. I DID, however, find out that there’s a strip club devoted to Big Feet. Apparently, the fine folks at BigFootGentlemansClub.com got tired of Big Feet being exploited for money on TV and have decided to exploit them for a little bit of money on the pole.

ANOTHER UPDATE: I just clicked on the link and I’m sorry to say, I didn’t see any photos of Big Foot working the pole. They might be misleading us, just like the Big Foot researchers. And the website’s grammar is horrible…they have decided to make a compound word out of Big Foot. You were warned.

5 responses

  1. I have a comment. Once, while camping in Utah, some creatures came in the middle of the night, made a lot of animal-type noise and walked away in my hiking boots which I had left outside the tent door.
    Big Feet? I say Little Feet.

    1. Um, yeah. That was totally me. I did that. Sorry, I’ll return the boots.

      1. I thought so!

  2. Read this. Wanted to comment. I’ve got nothing….unless you count my grin.

    1. You wear that grin so well! And I LOVE leaving people speechless!

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