I walked really early this morning. I walked the route I would take to go to the backside of the pond.
I had a little stack of rocks stashed behind a particular stump. I found another biggish rock on the trail and planned to add it to my stack. I get to the stump.
No rocks. Wha!!?? :eek:
I walk on and find rocks here and there. They are my rocks from yesterday. I just know it.
Ok, Mr. Foot you can stop now. This is not good. You’re ruining my prank.
I restacked my rocks in a new location.
When I go out again I’m bringing a sharpie to mark my rocks.
Looks like we’ll be crafting this afternoon. Nice cool day, low humidity.
Bigfoot butt here I come.
b. and the Mystery of the Rock-pile.
Darn it, I would’ve succeeded if not for you meddlin’ kids!
Yep. Same difference.
The Fouke Monster is a Bigfoot.
Sasquatch,
Yeti,
Swamp monster,
Booger bear,
And about a million more names.
According to Son. He’s my source of reference on these subjects.
I asked him for a cite. He just laughed.
Boogie, Son doesn’t live here. He’s here alot but I watch what goes on.
He coulda slipped in past the cemetery. I don’t think so though.
I marked all my rocks with a brown sharpie. I went to the Bible boulder and sat, while the dogs were chasing varmits and spooks.
The tree pyramid confounds me.
No landowner would ruin trees like this. Not while there’s a market for pine.
I made my new pattern. Left foot. 3 toes.
I feel it will add an air of authority to the print. I go to the pond after dark and make my print and what appears to be a slight slide of a knee. Dang, I’m good.
I was careful not to get caught on the camera.
I walked around behind the motion senser cams and tossed a few rocks. The camera obviously photographed but I’m not sure what it caught. We’ll see.
My papier mache butt is still in progress.
That will be my next camera trick. If I’m not found out beforehand. Fingers crossed.
I’m excited about tomorrow.
On the way back to the house I heard noises behind me.
I’m sure it wasn’t Mr.Foot. Me and him have an unspoken agreement. He’s to hang back til my prank is done.
I was afraid the noises were feral pigs. That’s all I need is to get caught out here cause I had to shoot a pig. I made it in the house.
No mishaps.
Since all the protesting, COVID quarantine, CHAZ and store shelves being depleted my sweet, precious, speshul Son-of-a-wreks brain has been overloaded with stimuli.
The boy’s crazy. He’s driving us all crazy, as well.
So, when he’s on the Bigfoot hunt at least I know his crazed fear of the SHTF is at least asleep in another part of his skull.
I’m doing this prank for his own good.
(quit yer snickering out there in the peanut gallery)
He went down to the pond edge and casted some ‘new’ prints. His collection is growing.
The next meeting of the ‘Arkansas Sasquatch believers’ club will be interesting, if they’re ever able to meet again. The American Legion hall has cancelled all group meetings for the foreseeable future.
What am I saying?
Those meetings are always interesting. 'Cause Every person there is Bat-crap insane.
Son is the secretary/treasurer. He wanted me to join. I told him the membership dues were prohibitive.
$12 and my sanity.
Nope. Don’t need to lose either of those things.
He never said what his cams recorded. Of course I couldn’t ask.
Wouldn’t your kid be even more motivated if someone were to mention to him that there’ve been three disappearances over the last year… in the exact area the Bigfoot camera’s in?
(That’d be less scary than getting a friend of yours to play a distraught parent whose daughter never came home from taking a shortcut through the Sasquatch Stompin’ Grounds…)
I am reminded of a much less elaborate prank where someone took a hippopotamus-foot umbrella stand and used it to stamp foot prints leading into the local reservoir. The prints were spotted, correctly identified, and there was much hullabaloo, searching, and people swearing they could taste hippo in the water.
After about a month, another set of prints were found leading away from the reservoir.
He’s noticed the 3 toe foot print.
He headed home to research in his many dime store novels and Conspiracy-Theory Monthly( formally known as “The Grassy Knoll”)
When he returned he asked for my Polaroid camera. Ordered film off Amazon.
Oldest Granddaughter told her Daddy (Son-of-a-wrek) that the Fouke monster had 3 toes on his left foot. Yeah, she’s a quick study. She listened to Pop-pops tale and retained that little tid-bit like a boss. That kid is amazing.
I nearly fell off the deck when I heard her say it.
I looked over at Son and I saw his left eye begin to twitch.
Capital Hill Autonomous Zone. The Seattle police abandoned their precinct a week or so ago, and protestors moved in and occupied the area. It’s a complicated situation, with supporters and detractors vilifying the other side. I won’t comment due to the no-politics ban here.
