Lord Long Rod
Diamond Member
- Jan 17, 2023
- 7,706
- 8,122
- 2,138
- Banned
- #1
As some will know, I am an avid sasquatch researcher and tracker. If there is a such thing as a professional bigfoot tracker, then I am it. During the course of my research, I interview witnesses to this elusive beast, among many other things. My goal is to prove the existence of this animal.
I recently received a tip of a recent bigfoot sighting in the deep, dark mountains of western North Carolina. I had to hike in for 3 days to get to the witness who lived up there and saw the creature. When I first met him, he held me at gun point while his female partner tied me up. Then they hung me upside down in their well shaft for 36 hours in the freezing cold. They finally released me when I contact called the witness to tell him I was on my way to meet him.
What follows is my transcription of the statement given to me by this witness. My goal in doing this is to leave as much unchanged as possible in order to maintain authenticity.
Well sir, it were back in 1983 when I dun did first seen that thar critter, I reckon. I were making my way outa the woods from squirrel huntin one chilly winter evenin fer me some vittles when I dun did come acrost it. Hell, I dun smelled that thar critter long before I did dun seen it. It smelled like a combination of wet dog, shit, and bad yeast infection ya git on yer tallywacker cuz your old lady ainât keepin it clean down thar. Yaâll knowd what I is talkin bouts? It gits on yer old ding dong and itches like it dun been eat up in chiggers. All that thar scratchin it makes it burn like a sumbitch! I tell you what!
When I walked up on that thar mangy critter, it were layin on top of a felled tree, dry humping it. At least, thatâs what I call it. Hell, maybe it was wet humping it, I donât rightly knowd. I sure hope that feller didnât have its old hawg out, cuz it would hurt somethang fierce to be aârubbin it up agin pine bark like that. Woooo doggy!
Jest then, all these here balls of glowing light dun appeared!! They was everwhere, swirling about in the trees, flying to and fro and here and around yonder, up and down and all around, all over the damned place!! Sum them thangs were a bluish-white color, whilst others we red er orange and sech. I ainât seen nuffin like that since Cambodia, 1973. I immediately flashed back to that point in time and started firing my 12 gauge at them damned old flying fuckers in the air. âPow!! Poww!!! Pow!!! BANG!!! Pow!!!!â
Then all them thar balls of lights just went out at once! I nodded in the satisfaction that I had dun up and kicked thar commie asses but good. Just then I felt some hot air on the back of my neck. I turned to find that damned old bigfoot critter standing right behind me. âAw shit!!!â, I said. It were a trap!!! That damned old hairy sumbitch dun up and conjured them thar fairy lights to distract me so he could get a jump on me like this!!! âSHEEYIT!!â
That critter had him one mean look on his face. The sumbitch was huge too. Its breath smelt like bad Thai pussy at the end of a long Saturday night. Suddenly, something thumped on my chest. I looked down to find the bigfootâs big old johnson throbbing against me. I looked up into the mangy monsterâs face. It was jest a âgrinning from ear to ear. I knew all too well what this here meant, and I twerenât none pleased with it at all. No sir!!
I shoved my bony fanger it its face and sed, âNow look here, you smelly bastard!! Tharâs no way on Godâs green earf that I am about to let yaâll stick that thar thang in me again!! It am becuz of you that I got to have this here colostomy sack!â I pulled it out from under my flannel shirt and opened it up so the ratty beast could catch him a whiff.
When the monster smelled it he clenched his eyes tightly closed, drew up his face, and turned his head. âSee that? That thar donât smell too sweet, does it?â, I asked. The bigfoot covered its face with its right hand and backed away as it used its left hand to fan the air in front of it. I had really gotten that fuckerâs attention.
As I had the monster incapacitated I pulled up my shot gun. See, even though I were jest squirrel huntin, I ran out of No. 6 shot. All I had was some of them thar slugs I use fer bears and DemoKKrats. I was loaded with them. Obviously, I always un-plug my shotgun befer I hit the woods to hunt, so I had not quite emptied the gun shootin at them thar spooky orbs of light earlier.
I shot from the hip. âBAMM!!!!!!â I blew that sumbitchin sasquachâs cock and balls clean off!! Heh heh heh⌠It was my revenge. âThere ya go, motherfucker!! Now you is one of those damned old tranny-o-sexuals!! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!! FAGGOT!!!â
The critter was shore in a lot of pain. Iâm sure some of it were physical pain. But I think most of it were the pain of being humiliated by me. In fact, I even caught sight of tears dribbling down the sasquatchâs face. It were crying!!
This sight touched me. I started feeling bad fer the critter. Poor old fella. He probably though he were jest aâfucking around with an old buddy. Then I up and wint to blowin its pussy tackle off, thereby trans-gender-fying it. There were only one thang I could do.
âBAMMM!!!!!!â I put the last slug I had through that old sumbitchâs head so as to put it outa its misery. I didnât rightly care bout some no-good sumbitchin bigfoot. But I did not think it were right to let it sit out thar sufferin fer the rest of its life, dickless and afraid. Besides, what were I supposed to do? Take the damned old thang to the vet? Fuck it!! Fuck dat sumbitch! Heh heh heh âŚ.
The preceding statement was given to me by an old rustic mountaineer named Mr. Eaton Beaver. He is retired from the investment firm of Pound, Dat, Beaver, LLC., and currently live in Sasquatch Hollow with his loving wife, Anita Beaver.
I recently received a tip of a recent bigfoot sighting in the deep, dark mountains of western North Carolina. I had to hike in for 3 days to get to the witness who lived up there and saw the creature. When I first met him, he held me at gun point while his female partner tied me up. Then they hung me upside down in their well shaft for 36 hours in the freezing cold. They finally released me when I contact called the witness to tell him I was on my way to meet him.
What follows is my transcription of the statement given to me by this witness. My goal in doing this is to leave as much unchanged as possible in order to maintain authenticity.
Well sir, it were back in 1983 when I dun did first seen that thar critter, I reckon. I were making my way outa the woods from squirrel huntin one chilly winter evenin fer me some vittles when I dun did come acrost it. Hell, I dun smelled that thar critter long before I did dun seen it. It smelled like a combination of wet dog, shit, and bad yeast infection ya git on yer tallywacker cuz your old lady ainât keepin it clean down thar. Yaâll knowd what I is talkin bouts? It gits on yer old ding dong and itches like it dun been eat up in chiggers. All that thar scratchin it makes it burn like a sumbitch! I tell you what!
When I walked up on that thar mangy critter, it were layin on top of a felled tree, dry humping it. At least, thatâs what I call it. Hell, maybe it was wet humping it, I donât rightly knowd. I sure hope that feller didnât have its old hawg out, cuz it would hurt somethang fierce to be aârubbin it up agin pine bark like that. Woooo doggy!
Jest then, all these here balls of glowing light dun appeared!! They was everwhere, swirling about in the trees, flying to and fro and here and around yonder, up and down and all around, all over the damned place!! Sum them thangs were a bluish-white color, whilst others we red er orange and sech. I ainât seen nuffin like that since Cambodia, 1973. I immediately flashed back to that point in time and started firing my 12 gauge at them damned old flying fuckers in the air. âPow!! Poww!!! Pow!!! BANG!!! Pow!!!!â
Then all them thar balls of lights just went out at once! I nodded in the satisfaction that I had dun up and kicked thar commie asses but good. Just then I felt some hot air on the back of my neck. I turned to find that damned old bigfoot critter standing right behind me. âAw shit!!!â, I said. It were a trap!!! That damned old hairy sumbitch dun up and conjured them thar fairy lights to distract me so he could get a jump on me like this!!! âSHEEYIT!!â
That critter had him one mean look on his face. The sumbitch was huge too. Its breath smelt like bad Thai pussy at the end of a long Saturday night. Suddenly, something thumped on my chest. I looked down to find the bigfootâs big old johnson throbbing against me. I looked up into the mangy monsterâs face. It was jest a âgrinning from ear to ear. I knew all too well what this here meant, and I twerenât none pleased with it at all. No sir!!
I shoved my bony fanger it its face and sed, âNow look here, you smelly bastard!! Tharâs no way on Godâs green earf that I am about to let yaâll stick that thar thang in me again!! It am becuz of you that I got to have this here colostomy sack!â I pulled it out from under my flannel shirt and opened it up so the ratty beast could catch him a whiff.
When the monster smelled it he clenched his eyes tightly closed, drew up his face, and turned his head. âSee that? That thar donât smell too sweet, does it?â, I asked. The bigfoot covered its face with its right hand and backed away as it used its left hand to fan the air in front of it. I had really gotten that fuckerâs attention.
As I had the monster incapacitated I pulled up my shot gun. See, even though I were jest squirrel huntin, I ran out of No. 6 shot. All I had was some of them thar slugs I use fer bears and DemoKKrats. I was loaded with them. Obviously, I always un-plug my shotgun befer I hit the woods to hunt, so I had not quite emptied the gun shootin at them thar spooky orbs of light earlier.
I shot from the hip. âBAMM!!!!!!â I blew that sumbitchin sasquachâs cock and balls clean off!! Heh heh heh⌠It was my revenge. âThere ya go, motherfucker!! Now you is one of those damned old tranny-o-sexuals!! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!! FAGGOT!!!â
The critter was shore in a lot of pain. Iâm sure some of it were physical pain. But I think most of it were the pain of being humiliated by me. In fact, I even caught sight of tears dribbling down the sasquatchâs face. It were crying!!
This sight touched me. I started feeling bad fer the critter. Poor old fella. He probably though he were jest aâfucking around with an old buddy. Then I up and wint to blowin its pussy tackle off, thereby trans-gender-fying it. There were only one thang I could do.
âBAMMM!!!!!!â I put the last slug I had through that old sumbitchâs head so as to put it outa its misery. I didnât rightly care bout some no-good sumbitchin bigfoot. But I did not think it were right to let it sit out thar sufferin fer the rest of its life, dickless and afraid. Besides, what were I supposed to do? Take the damned old thang to the vet? Fuck it!! Fuck dat sumbitch! Heh heh heh âŚ.
The preceding statement was given to me by an old rustic mountaineer named Mr. Eaton Beaver. He is retired from the investment firm of Pound, Dat, Beaver, LLC., and currently live in Sasquatch Hollow with his loving wife, Anita Beaver.
