Bigfoot? Really. “Big Foot?” That’s all you could think of? It’s the 21st century and we’re still going to make fun of each other’s anatomical attributes? It’s like I’m being pursued by a pack of slack-witted 13-year-old boys.
For years I thought, yeah, you’ll see me when I’m good and ready. I’ll come out when you demonstrate you’re ready to stop the name-calling.
But lately I’ve changed my mind. I’ll come out once I’ve cut down to 260 – the first thing I’m going to do is sign a UFC contract and mop the floor with Brock Lesnar. You’re all going to find out what a ‘freak of nature’ REALLY looks like.
[Editor’s note: He didn’t blog it but when I asked why there are so few of his kind, he noted that the last several generations of young lady Sasquatches apparently aren’t into hairy backs.]