Cryptozoologists, ghost hunters, whackadoos, and pot heads received ground breaking news this week. Archaeologists uncovered documented, biblical proof of the Bigfoot, and in this case satire is stranger than fiction. That’s why we, being the greatest investigatively satirical news source in the Canis Major Dwarf Galaxy (and Lower Temecula), started asking the hard hitting questions.
Who is Bigfoot? Where is Bigfoot? What is Bigfoot? Why is Bigfoot, and how much is Bigfoot? Lastly, Perchance is Bigfoot?
These are the questions that cryptozoological researchers have been asking themselves, but that’s not all. They’ve also been asking…
How is Bigfoot? When is Bigfoot? How big is a Bigfoot’s foot if a Bigfoot could foot big? And, would Bigfoot be my wingman at my upcoming 20th highschool reunion; I hear Rebecca Schuyler is getting a divorce.
While we don’t have a definitive answer on the last question, recent discoveries may shed light on the mysteries of Bigfoot’s origins, and also on whether or not perchance is Bigfoot.
Far away, in a land forgotten by land, is a sea forgotten by life, the Dead Sea. It’s here that a newly discovered scroll, part of the Dead Sea Scrolls, shines light on Bigfoot’s parentage. Researchers are naming it, The Doobie Scroll, in accordance with convention and at the direction of religious scholars. The recent finding of the Doobie Scroll [420QJ] discusses that God wanted a brother for Jesus. However, the Lord Almighty in his Infinite Wisdom–having just created marijuana and poppy plants–was too inebriated (“crunked up”, to use the parlance of The Most Heavenly Father) to properly “godpregnate” Mary.
These lines from the Doobie Scroll were recently translated, and clearly explain what had happened:
“So what had happened was…” spoketh the Lord through a smoking bush, deep in the Hittite Kush, thereupon this scribe it doth produceth a most curious effect on the mind and yet did smell quite ripe and skunky. Then continued the Lord Almighty…
“Uh huh, yeah, so AS I was saying. Okay, so there I ’twas. You know, being all glam-glam and just mindin my bidniss, which is all you sinners, okay? Anyways… I was just having a J… <cough cough>, yeah, that’s right, talking with Jesus, yesssir! Me and J were hitting that thurible, and I think I hit that too much because the next thing I know I’m on a turnpike in North Jersey cuddling a Chupacabra (her name was Gladys) and asking if they call me in the morning. That was mondo wicked. It took me forty days and forty nights to get back to Bethlehem. Well, if you read the New New Testament (The Gospel of Me Getting My Crink-Crink in that Stink-Stink) then you know what had happened next. So now, uh huh, you best believe it. My baby boys, Jesus and Bigfoot, both come home every year for Thanksgiving. Amen. Oh, and to make sure I don’t make anymore ugly babies (Daddy loves you Bigfoot), I’mma make a new rule. Its to avoid indulgences, m’okay, but let’s keep them Catholic indulgences, erm’kay? Daddy needs a new pool and jet skis! Okay, this new rule is called: ‘Puff, puff, pass.’ Oh that’s good. I should put that on a stone or something. Okay, Amen and all that. Moses. MOSES!! Where is you?! Bring a tablet!”
While we don’t have confirmed sightings of Bigfoot, or Jesus, unconfirmed reports indicate that they’ve been seen together at German Discoteks dropping molly with bottle girls, getting drunk together at Baptist bake sales, and trying to pick up Laker Girls from court side seats
We tried reaching out to Gladys, the North Jersey Chupacabra that birthed Bigfoot–and also haunted North Jersey turnpike restrooms, flop houses, and speakeasies. We are sad to report that Gladys was stoned to death by her North Jersey chupacabra tribe for two acts of sexual impropriety with a foreign deity. The immaculate conception was enough to get her banished, but apparently it was her goat sucking skills that really got her in trouble, and also her love of Bukkake.
A Holy Message from Our Pious Sponsor, Big Peanut Butter
Wow… What a beautiful message for our members of the peanut flock. Remember boys and girls, the Great Peanut, in accordance with the traditions of a loving and merciful God, punishes women for having sex which brings us to gratitude.
Friends, we thank the heavenly Lord our God and the Host and the Spirit and the Son and the Heavenly Ghost and Mary and Joseph and Little Baby Jesus and all those cute angels with their AK-47s for Christ for this bounty of a land that makes peanuts.
We thank the Lord for dominion over this earth so we can salt these nuts and stuff them in your mouths. Without the grace of God you’d never know the joy of our nuts in your mouth and the careful dance of sucking the flavor while not biting down too hard.
Many people ask us…
“…if the Great Lord Peanut provided salty peanuts to put in my mouth, how will the devil even fight against this awesome goodness of God?”
That’s why it’s upon us, dear reader and loyal customer, as the leading voice for The Eastern Canadian Peanut Growers Association, and the Lower Temecula Adjunct, to let you know that the devil wages his war of sin with…
Almond Butter
So fucking smug…
Yes, almond butter; the curdled spunk of a zombified frat-bro (who previously studied econ and Natty Light), splattered on chunks of cardboard and concrete, then blended with wet, dog fur until gloppy… and moist.
This is how the devil fights against the Lord’s bounty of life-giving mouth-nuts and peanut butter.
We need you to remind your friends that every time they eat almond butter, they’re inviting Satan into their anuses.
Don’t let Satan’s cum in your poopoo, eat peanut butter before it’s too late.