Category Archives: Bigfoot

Oscars and The Legend of Boggy Creek

It was an official holiday at my house. The Oscars hit the air waves, and I settled in on my couch to soak it all in.

I spent tonight watching the 82nd Oscars, but it felt more like 82 years of my life passed during the long production.

The Hurt Locker” eventually hauled in the big awards, winning over “Avatar” and “Precious.” History was made with Kathryn Bigelow earning the Best Director statuette, the first woman to do so, for helming “The Hurt Locker.”

The 2010 version of Hollywood’s big night was a bit anticlimactic. The energy in the theater seemed low with little reaction and or interaction to what was happening on stage. Even the customary polite applause for most of the faces that pop up on the screen during the Memorial Montage was lacking.

And, by the way, why wasn’t Farrah Fawcett included in that? Of course, she is better known for her work in television than on the silver screen, but what about “Logan’s Run,” “Cannonball Run” and some other movies that didn’t have Run in their name.

The dance montages still wear me out. I haven’t wanted to watch people do the robot on stage since that tragic encounter I had with Shields and Yarnell back in the day. Don’t ask. I’ve signed legal documents that keep me from talking about it.

The duo of Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin as hosts wasn’t quite so dynamic if you ask me. I think they should bring back Neil Patrick Harris and his Liberace jacket to host next year.

Even the dresses didn’t WOW me nor even induce too many cringes.

I did enjoy the John Hughes tribute with the actors and actresses he made into stars speaking about working with him. The clips brought back so many memories for me – memories of both his movies and my life that paralleled several of his story arcs at that time.

Then when the Oscars finally ended in a flurry of awards handed out in a matter of 10 seconds, I started surfing the web and ran across a headline involving a movie legend not affiliated with the awards show.

It read, ‘Boggy Creek filmmaker Pierce dies in Tenn. at 71‘.

Come to find out director Charles B. Pierce, who brought “The Legend of Boggy Creek” to the silver screen and drive-ins everywhere passed away in a nursing home in Dover, Tennesssee,  just 50 miles from my home.

If he’s not included in the Memorial Montage next year, I’m throwing a hissy fit and sicking Sasquatch on the Oscars.

Bigfoot on craigslist

Who knew Bigfoot would show up on craigslist?

A poster on the site requested anyone who had lived through a Bigfoot or Sasquatch sighting contact him via e-mail with the promise of confidentiality.

He got a response on craigslist from someone who claimed to have laid eyes on Bigfoot. However, the witness was begging that anyone else who had seen the big hairy beast not respond in order to allow the elusive creature to continue to exist unharmed.

Bigfoot keeps getting the love all over the intertubes.

Newscoma Gets Hacked

Poor Newscoma and the tech friends she relies on.

They’ve spent the past 48 hours battling some geek who wants to keep the world from reading about Mabel, zombies, Bigfoot and redneck Christmas trees.

How un-American can they be?

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Six Million Dollar Man v. Sasquatch

So Newscoma’s wheels have been out of commission for weeks now. It started with one repair and turned into a total transformation. Apparently, she barely avoided a close brush with the grim reaper while riding in this death mobile.

The list of things getting fixed on her car has turned into one of those crazy long scrolls of paper kids unfurl when they’re sitting on Santa’s lap at the mall in Hollywood comedies.

She’s never given her car a name like some people do (not me), but I’ve come up with a moniker for her vehicle, now to be forever known as Steve Austin – the Six Million Dollar Man.

Knowing ‘Coma’s love for Bigfoot, Freaky Weasel pointed out the connection tween Steve and Sasquatch.

How could I have forgotten.

Squirrel Queen Searches for Sasquatch

When I think Bushnell, I think of binoculars scanning the distance.

It seems the company has branched out beyond the distance-viewing glasses to sell trail cameras.

These cameras are normally strapped to trees and, triggered by motion detectors, used to capture big game on film. Deer are usually the focus in North America, while bigger game can be spotted on other continents. Here are some of the shots of nature captured by their cameras.

Now Bushnell is setting up a contest to reward $1 million bucks (in cash, not multi-pronged antlered deer) if one of their cameras produces a shot of Sasquatch.

Details are sketchy. It’s almost as if they don’t expect to ever have to award the prize money, but they do have the notice on their web site.

Good luck on your Bigfoot hunting expedition.

And, should you win, be sure to share some of that money with the Squirrel Queen for giving you the heads up on this contest.

Baby Sasquatch (aka Poorwhitustrashus Mulletus) spotted at WallyWorld

The folks at Your Opinion Doesn’t Count weren’t looking for a crypto-moment when they went shopping at a giant retailer, but they took advantage of their chance encounter, snapping pics of this baby Sasquatch roaming the aisles.

Read more about their efforts to stalk and document their sighting of this fine and healthy example of Poorwhitustrashus Mulletus.

Is it an orangutan? Is it a Sasquatch?

squirrel donut bigfoot orangutan

Floridians have been busy spotting large orange animals in the trees in their local neighborhood. Some saw baby Bigfoot. Others saw Clint Eastwood’s furry pal from 1978.

Area wildlife agents are now claiming the treetop critter is one of my legion.

Might be. The agent used donuts as a lure.

I know the Squirrel Queen can’t resist the allures of a little fried dough with a sweet and sticky glaze.

Bye bye Bat Boy

The Squirrel Queen is in mourning this week.

I found out the horrible news from Newscoma who heard the word from Cuppa Joe. Drastic news of this sort travels fast, leaving many tears to be shed and cloth to be ripped.

The Weekly World News is shutting down.

A staple of my life for more than two decades, my source for news about Bat Boy, Bigfoot, Alien invasions, the Loch Ness Monster and so much more will no longer ease my passage through the checkout lines in stores. It won’t be there to comfort me as my cheeks adjust to the chill of the cold porcelain. How will I go on?

My love for the rag began so long ago. Working alone late at night at a radio station, I not only read WWN, but I also perused every page of the Memphis Commercial Appeal looking for odd A.P. stories for the radio station’s morning show team to use. There, tucked away at the bottom of a column many pages deep inside the traditional Appeal, I’d find tales of dogs walking hundreds of miles back to their original owners after getting lost during a family vacation or stories of singing birds alerting their owners to a blaze within the home in time to save lives or the odd story about what was recovered from the gastric areas of humans in emergency surgeries just in time to keep them upright and on planet Earth.

Then a few weeks later, I would find many of these same stories inside the WWN acting again as filler between the brilliant Dear Dotty and Ed Anger columns. I would alert people to the veracity of many of the stories inside the grocery store tabloid and would often be scoffed at. But I kept those clippings from the Commercial Appeal and showed the doubters the A.P. evidence. It rarely did much to convince the naysayers.

I even used WWN to decorate my first apartment. It was in an old home that had been split into a duplex, thus we had a long hallway on our side that went basically nowhere. I used headlines and cover art to create a WWN wallpaper, covering the cheap wood paneling with ink about Bigfoot and Bat Boy art all the way up to the molding just below the 10-foot ceiling. It truly was a decorating masterpiece. Martha would have been very proud.

I still have a WWN cover from a few years ago when Bat Boy hunted down Osama Bin Laden. I taped that one to the wall of my office just across from my desk. Whenever I needed writing inspiration, all I had to do was glance up and make eye contact with Bat Boy and the ideas flowed from my fingertips to the keyboard. Magic.

Unlike Newscoma, I never sent in a resume, but it certainly would have been a “dream” job to dream up news of that sort.

Farewell my black-and-white-and-read-all-over friend.

Tiger shills for the Squirrel Queen

 

In case you haven’t noticed, Tiger Woods is trying his darnedest to weasel his way into the Squirrel Queen’s legion.

The links-prowling Tiger is sporting the Squirrel Queen’s shorthand moniker on his noggin.

Look. Here’s a picture with it right there on his cap, next to the Nike swoosh. In big, bold capital letters – SQ – just above his ear.

Not only is he trying to woo me by wearing my initials. He’s also trying to captivate me by keeping a SasQuatch in his golf bag. He knows how much a Bigfoot sighting intrigues both me and Newscoma.

Next thing you know just to get my attention he’ll be reporting sightings of the Loch Ness Monster in some water hazard on the next golf course he traverses.

All this to get the attention of the Squirrel Queen.

Thanks and a hat tip to Smiley, King of the Sewanee Course, for sending this little tidbit my way.