The largest primate on the planet has been living on this continent for tens of thousands of years and no hunter has ever killed one, until now.
This is no hoax. I shot the hairy creature known as Bigfoot, and I’m going to take its body on a tour of America. What was Robin Williams doing walking around in the woods with his shirt off, you ask? Ha, ha! No, it wasn’t him. Nor was it a grizzly bear, a hunter in a Ghillie suit, or one of those dudes from “Duck Dynasty.” I gunned down Sasquatch.
Please try and keep an open mind here. I’m not the kind of guy who has Elvis encounters, sees Loch Ness monsters cavorting in the Eel River, finds crop circles on a Ferndale farmer’s field, spots the image of the Virgin Mary in a redwood tree, or discovers a charred likeness of Jesus on a slice of toast.
Only once have I been probed by aliens. That was long ago, in a galaxy far, far away.
I’m no glory hound like other Bigfoot hunters, either. In Humboldt County we see Sasquatches all year long. We also smoke a lot of weed and have a type of mushroom that grows in the redwoods that is very powerful, so there are bound to be a few bogus Bigfoot sightings. The creature I killed was 100 percent real.
Bigfoot is believed to be an unknown species, a missing link that runs around in the woods and smells worse than a striped polecat in a vat of raw sewage. These creatures are not a myth. I have seen them many times before, found their tracks, and experienced everything from boulders and rock-throwing, to wood-knocking. They are very intelligent, elusive, and passive for most parts.
That’s what makes them so enjoyable to shoot.
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