It's Oscars time. Somebody wake the Grouch.

Saturday, March 08, 2008

Can't Get Enough Sasquatch?

Yes, I know. What has brought Stew out from the metaphorical mattress under which he has slunk lo these 8 months? Blame it on Sasquatch. Upon reading the blog earlier this week I saw Earl's wonderful take on the Martian Sasquatch siting, including his insightful interview with the hirsute one himself.

Finished with my weekly check up on the blog I was content to slink away and go about my business. Then I saw the article. No, not that one... this article. At first I just found it interesting that this old bloke would be in good enough health to run a marathon but then I did a quick double-take at the photo. Could it be? Was it possible? The answer was as plain as the nose on my face.





Sasquatch was up to some odd business again and I felt it was incumbent upon me to reach out to him and see why he was engaged in yet another questionable endeavor.


Sasquatch: This is Sasquatch, I'm not here right now please leave...

Stew: I know that's you Bigfoot don't try to fool me.

Sasquatch: Will you two leave me alone, can't a guy just have a little privacy.

Stew: I'm sorry to call so soon after Earl, I know you don't hear from us in years and then two calls in a week but I need to ask you about the article concerning you running in the London marathon.

Sasquatch: What are you talking about?

Stew: Look Foot, I know it's you so come clean.

Sasquatch: Ok, it's me. Look there's got to be more to life that wandering around the woods, eating Jack Links jerky, and being an iconic folklore figure. That craps boring.

Stew: Yes, but running in a marathon seems like a bit of a stretch. That's 26 miles you have to do.

Sasquatch: I've gone farther than that to take a pee. No sweat.

Stew: I noticed the article said you were 101 years old, is that right?

Sasquatch: Mas or menos man, we sasquatch's don't really keep up with such things. I think my old man was about 140 when he kicked the bucket so that is probably right.

Stew: Well, good luck. Do you have anything else to share?

Sasquatch: I'm getting a private number.

I thought our old pal Sasquatch had thicker skin but I guess that was just all the fur. I hope he finds what he's looking for out there somewhere.

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Monday, March 03, 2008

Bigfoot on Vacation


ABC News reported back in January about a very strange photo NASA took on Mars. At first glance, the photo appears to be of a figure on the Martian landscape that looks suspiciously like Sasquatch, or as he's known to the hoi palloi*, Bigfoot.

It seems strange to imagine Bigfoot traipsing about on the surface of the Red Planet, without luggage or passport or, for that matter, breathing apparatus. Still, I suppose that if you are the Western Hemisphere's most notorious lost anthropoid you can't just catch a Jet Blue flight to Miami and hit the beaches.**

However, NASA doesn't expect to land a man on Mars for at least another couple of decades. Virgin Atlantic doesn't even fly there, for goodness' sake. So, how did he get up there. Does Bigfoot know certain extraterrestials? Does the U.S. Military have a secret Martian excursion and took Bigfoot along in case there was any trouble?

I decided to give Bigfoot a call and find out.

Earl: Sasquatch, it's very good of you to chat with me.

Sasquatch: Call me Bigfoot. Everyone else does.

Earl: Can I call you "Big" for short?

Sasquatch: I don't think so.

Earl: Splendid. Now, what's all this about you having visited Mars?

Sasquatch: Man, Earl, you get right to the point. Aren't you going to build up to it by asking about my Jack's Links commercials?

Earl: I've never seen them.

Sasquatch: Liar. You're just trying to save blog space.

Earl: All right, they're wonderfully comedic. Did you really have a leak on those blokes in the Internet-only one?

Sasquatch: It was special effects. They used a fire hose and Orange Gatorade. My bladder's pretty small, actually.

Earl: I'm sorry I asked. Anyway, they show you can really have a laugh at yourself.

Sasquatch: And I kick tail like Chuck Norris.

Earl: Agreed. Now, about that Mars visit...

Sasquatch: It wasn't me.

Earl: It looked like you.

Sasquatch: It was a trick of the light. The Martian landscape can be really disorienting at that time of day.

Earl: What do you mean by "that time of day?"

Sasquatch: Umm... I read that somewhere.

Earl: In your mission manual, perhaps?

Sasquatch: No! That's not what I said at all. Listen, you don't want me to pull you through a window like that one guy in the jerky commercial, do you?

Earl: This is a phone call, remember?

Sasquatch: Umm... Technology confuse Sasquatch.

Earl: Don't give me that nonsense. I happen to know you have a B.A. in Comparative Literature from Stanford via correspondence.

Sasquatch: Damn that Freedom of Information Act!

Earl: So, let's have no more of this "Me confused by many-button phone" routine, when you've just flown to Mars and back.

Sasquatch: Quit saying that! I can't talk about it, OK? They know where I live! Do you want the guys in black helicopters to show up here again?

Earl: Again?

Sasquatch: No, that's not what I meant! They don't actually exist! I... I gotta go! I hear the kettle boiling! (hangs up)

With that our conversation ended. I had to admit, knowing how Sasquatch loves his tea, that whole "kettle boiling" line rang true. Still, the next time I look into the sky, I'll always wonder if my furry friend isn't visiting the angry red planet, whichever one of those sparkly little lights it is.

**********
*Greek for "people who can't pronounce "Sasquatch," despite the fact that the last part of the word rhymes with the word "crotch." I'm just noticing, that's all.
** Of course, that would be Bigfoot's last vacation destination. The humidity would play havoc with his fur.

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Sunday, March 02, 2008

One Obscene Turn Deserves Another, I Suppose

A Pennsylvania couple have responded to a Federal Aviation Administration decision to allow aeroplanes to fly over their neighborhood, with a rooftop sign telling the FAA exactly how they feel.

The FAA has responded by telling airlines that landing planes could do waste drops over the specific address.

No, I'm only kidding. Even the FAA couldn't get away with that. Instead, the pilots just flip the bird back at the couple and rev the engines as they roar by.

"It's pretty funny watching them jump up and down on top of the roof, waving their tiny fists at us, and mouthing expletives," said one pilot, at the airport bar after a few too many. "They look like little angry ants from Warner Brothers cartoons."

The couple have vowed to escalate the battle by having special giant-sized Wallbangers (TM) made of them "mooning" the planes. FAA officials privately fear that this might only increase flights over the home, especially by European carriers.

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