Well, It's Been Fun: I'm Done With Bigfoot And This Blog

This weekend, I had a direct encounter with Bigfoot that changed my life. Saturday morning, I went hiking near Jenkinson Lake near Pollock Pines by myself in an attempt to clear my mind from the craziness that is this blog. As I was walking down the trail, the tree canopy above my head started getting denser and the shadows below my feet started getting darker and longer. I’m not sure how far I walked into the woods and I had left my cell phone in the car, so I had no sense of time either. I couldn’t see the lake anymore and the trail had narrowed to something more akin to a game trail, so I must have gone pretty far.

Suddenly, I started hearing a rustling in the shrubs to my right. I was hungry by this time and my first thought was that it might be a deer and I had seen Edward do some pretty good hunting moves in Twilight, so I readied myself to pounce on the deer. Time passed and the deer still didn’t break through the brush, so I decided to rush it head on. I pushed my way through the brush and I found myself face to face with a Bigfoot. This poor creature had terror written all over his face when he grabbed me with his hairy hand and covered my mouth before I could scream. I could smell the pitch on his fingers, the metallic smell of blood, and some other odor that I have only smelled on the left hand of a backwoods hunter after a camping trip. As he pressed me up against his body, I could feel his chest heaving and his muscles on full alert, ready to run at the drop of a pin.

Between the musky odors emanating from his hand and the heat of his body pressed against mine, I lost track of time but he held me for quite a while. Off in the distance, I heard a branch crack and the Bigfoot let out a little squeak. I looked out in the distance and I saw what the Bigfoot was trying to hide from and I wet my pants a little when I saw him. A slim man dressed in a black suit wearing black sunglasses with forty pounds of black shiny hair goo plastering his pompadour in position. In one hand he was holding a shiny metallic gun and in the other was a slim pen-like object with a red light. The last thing I remembered, there was smoke in the air and the Bigfoot bellowed a mournful howl.

I woke up at around 8 pm in my car with a tiny precision cut on my neck closed shut with glue. I had swirling finger marks around my areolas that look similar to ones I got when someone gave me a Texas Twister on a dare. My rear was not probed, thank goodness, but I think this was a warning for me.  Attached to my car windshield was a note that said “Not a word, or else. ---MIB”. Because of this event, I have to close this website. There are some regions of my body that are just too sacred for me to risk.