My Journey Part 14: The Egg

When I finally lifted my head the morning after our pow wow, I was disturbed by the carnage before me. Apart from my pretzel-ish sleeping position, twisted in as I was with the Blaine twins, I saw Spike hanging by the foot from the top of a giant Spruce tree. Sheldrake was lying next to the remains of our campfire, but he obviously spent the night spinning slowly in a fetal position to where he was a few feet deep in a perfectly round pit.
I slowly peeled a hair that had encrusted itself in dried drool on my cheek and was stunned by it's color! It was bright blue! Had I truly seen two blue Sasquatches last night, and was I really the "chosen one", herald of an interstellar armageddon? Now I really felt bad that I hadn't written down the date of the cosmic cataclysm. Perhaps the big blues would return? If they were telepathic, as my theorizations of etraterrestrial bigfoots claim (If you've attended the Krutthammer Institute of Higher Theorizations, it's on page six of the  textbook), then they would sense my feelings and come back, hopefully with a notepad and pen - or a photocopy of the Doomsday schedule! Here's my detailed drawing of the object:

I heard some whimpering next to me; it was the Blaine twins, starting up their waterworks again. I discovered that they will start crying at the drop of a hat - particularly a heavy hat that falls on their foot.
Being twins didn't help either since they felt each other's pains and emotions. That's why they always had to eat together: If one ate alone, the other would feel full and not bother eating. They also had to perform, shall we say, "other" functions together as well.
I raise the hair before them and asked their seasoned, Cryptozoologistic opinion as to it's origin. They both giggled like schoolgirls (I heard a schoolgirl giggle in 1983 - that was the last time there was a girl in Angus Hat. She transferred because Lem and Norv kept staring at her while making pigeon noises).
They found it amusing because their swamp fuel "Boggo" turns hair and skin blue on contact. I quickly made my way over to a puddle of water and looked at my reflection. The left side of my face was bright blue! I went back to where I had awakened and there, on it's side, was a small jug of Boggo! I also noticed that Badger/Pearly was blue on one side of his body - which was partially sunken into the ground, which is no surprise considering he had been slept on by three heavy men. Our weight also caused his badger costume to stick even more onto his skin. Pearly is still in the costume to this day, and has found part-time employment as a mascot at the Porcupine Creek Mall (He added some drinking straws to his back, lending  more authenticity).
The Blaines and I grabbed  Badger/Pearly's apendages and pulled him up out of the soft earth. To our astonishment, there, in his imprint lay a large blue egg!
(to be continued)
  

My Journey Part 13: The Tell-tale Hair

When I regained consciousness, my slowly opening eyes focused on Spike, Sheldrake, Badger Pearly and the Blaine twins standing in a circle around me. My first groggy thoughts went to Stonehenge and other stone circles - were they preparing a sacrifice, like the Druids of old? I checked my mobility, just to make certain that I was not trussed up like a game hen, but my arms and legs were untied. Spike leaned down to give me a hand up but his pointy hair poked one of the Blaines in the eye. With both twins having hair trigger tear ducts, they burst into wails and howls, since they automatically feel each other's pain (I believe that's called sympathetic induction, otherwise known as "Bill Clinton Syndrome").
Amidst whispers of consolation I inquired as to what had happened to me, to cause my collapse into unconsciousness: Sheldrake claimed that the Blaines uncorked a jug of Boggo right next to me and since I had not as yet developed an immunity to it's fumes, I immediately keeled over in a heap.
I decided it was time for a pow-wow. Spike went searching for an eagle to pluck for our ceremonial headdresses but I managed to convince him that it was merely a figure of speech. That evening we sat around the campfire cross-legged and shared the peace pipe. We did not have a pipe, but through ingenuity and years of sausage-making experience, I fashioned one out of a wolverine's femur and a squirrel's skull.
We did not have tobacco so we made a pipe mixture of dried leaves, moss, twigs, some small toads and some very colorful mushrooms.
After passing the pipe around for about an hour or so, the three legged moose to my right began to honk like a goose, so much so that he actually turned into one- with large antlers. My mother was to my left, decked out as a Valkyre. She arose, singing a glorious aria, then promptly smashed a giant weasel next to her in the head. She then departed, spear in one hand and pulling the weasel by the foot with the other, up, up the rainbow bridge to Valhalla! I started to run my finger around my face; I had no idea there were two noses above my left eyebrow! I heard Pearly's voice in the distance; he was skreetching in a high falsetto - I believe the song was "See Vut Ze Boys In Ze Back Room Vil Have". Spike was covered in feathers and had blue antlers. Now that I think of it, he must have been the three legged moose. His antlers turned a bright green, then red. Batman arrived but he was not as I remembered him; he was heavier and had a long white beard. He jumped in place for a few minutes and followed that with several hand springs, after which he began walking on his hands, chanting "na-ma-shi-va-ya". He then rolled close to the fire, curling himself into a fetal position. 
Suddenly, there appeared two identical Sasquatches, covered in bright blue fur. As psychotropically confused as I was, I still managed to find my crayons. Being as I am a trained paranormal investigation theorization specialist, I was determined to capture as much detail as possible. This is what I saw that night: 

Upon reflection, I must admit that I was not my usual perceptive self. The blue bigfoots began to dance around the fire singing Abba's "Take A Chance On Me" until one stepped on the foot of the other, causing both to loudly wail, banshee-like, changing their song to Michael Bolton's "How Am I Supposed to Live Without You". Everything began to spin slowly and then faster, then I felt myself traveling over great multi-colored landscapes into space where I fell through a tunnel of throbbing lights!
I awoke in a nicely decorated Victorian bedroom with a very old man propped up in the bed. I looked closely at him - it was an older version of me! I stared at him/me for a while, not knowing what to talk about - after all, what is there to know that I don't already know of what I already know? He/I suddenly stiffened up and shouted "red rum! red rum!" I reached beside him/me and lifted the bottle of red rum to his/my lips. The bed vanished and I fell to the floor. The two  blue Sasquatches appeared once more. They spoke in an Estonian dialect, but I fully understood them! It's a good thing I speak Estonian.
They warned me of a coming apocalypse, a cataclysmic armageddon from outer space that will come upon the Earth suddenly, and I was to be the herald of this doom! They told me the date and time, but I was too shy to ask for a pencil (how would it look? me, the herald of doomsday, with no pencil?)  so I pretended that I got it and didn't write it down.
They then came closer to me, touched my forehead and all went black.
I awoke the next morning with a very dry mouth and a headache. I felt something under my armpit; It was one of the Blaine twins legs. I was face down, pressed against Pearly's Badger face which was now stuck to his skin in a semi-permanent state. Did we all just wake up from a hallucinogenic pipe smoking ceremony? That was my assumption until I found - a blue hair!
(to be continued)

My Journey Part 12: Dark Mystery

To say I had mixed feelings would be an understatement. So much had happened in such a short time. Relying on my years of specialized training as a paranormal investigation theorist was my only salvation as there was so much information to process. Apart from dealing with my time of damp deprivation in the wilds of a northern Saskatchewan bog, my dear friend Pearly had given himself over to his desire to live as a badger and we had just been captured by a group of portly Cryptozoologists!
Things had gone from bad to worse; we were frozen in place by a loud howl whose source was quite close. We all turned in unison to see one of the Blaine twins struggling on the ground trying to dislodge an angry chipmunk from his ear (apparently the same one we had evicted from Pearly's badger ear). With one firm tug, Spike pulled the offending rodent off and promptly drop kicked it towards a group of trees. His trajectory was off, unfortunately, and the chipmunk ended up in Pearly's groin area, forcing a girlish squeal.
I'm happy to report to all you animal lovers out there that the chipmunk scampered off seemingly unharmed, although he did run, in a zigzag fashion, right into a tree.
Everyone gathered their composure and we got on with the business at hand: How would we find our way back to Angus Hat. The Turtle Lakes Cryptosquad was not planning to leave the area just yet; They were on a twin mission of fact finding and bog-mass collecting that would be a few more days. I spoke with the team while sitting on Pearly to keep him from escaping to live with the badgers and at the same time prevent the cryptozoologists from performing an autopsy on him (despite my constant reminders that the subject had to be deceased for the procedure). 
All this was wearing away at my calm demeanor so I tried to change the subject by asking the Blaine twins about their moss collecting. They told me that they had developed a super fuel while distilling fermented bog-mass. I asked what this material was and they described it as a mixture of moss, rotting wood and several species of amphibians (for that extra octane) that they slowly ferment and boil into a dark brew which is twice as powerful as gasoline and tastes like caramel flavored Russian vodka. They called it "Boggo"
Here's a picture of their process:

The Blaines were building up a stockpile of "Boggo" for use in their soon-to-begin SASKAR racing circuit. They enjoyed Cryptozoology but Sheldrake confided that it's very hard to keep the twins focused as they seem to always walk in oval circles, bumping into each other and running into trees and boulders.

Spike secretly told me that he was annoyed at their waving a flag every time they found any evidence of Cryptoids. It was during one of these charming discussions that I suddenly lost my balance and felt myself falling, falling into a mysterious endless darkness!

(to be continued)  

My Journey Part 11: A Cry In The Dark

Have you ever felt your blood boil, curdle and turn to ice all at the same time? I can't imagine what geological or meteorological conditions could precipitate such an experience! Perhaps rolling down an active volcano into a poison swamp during a blizzard. My situation did not bring on any reaction of this nature; It was early morning and I was still a bit groggy after having a tranquilizer dart blowpiped into my left flank. The sensation was similar to my dream-state after eating my wild mushroom and hemp sausages back in  the seventies during the Angus Hat Music Festival.
I focused on the hirsute creature lying next to me. It was Pearly in his Badger suit! Using my training as a Paranormal Investigation Theorist I quickly put my method of consciousness-evaluation to the test - I stuck my thumb in his eye. His reaction was positive, although he landed awkwardly. Wiping the damp moss from his mouth, Pearly recounted his harrowing escape from four hunters the previous day. I turned his head to the right and pointed out the four men around the campfire, asking him if those were his pursuers.
One of the men turned to look at us and gestured to the others. They got up and came towards us with a menacing look.
They were all heavy set men. The youngest one had a tuft of hair that came to a point on top of his head.

The oldest had a great white beard, like the wizard in my recurring dream. The two middle aged fellows in the middle were of medium build and almost indistinguishable from one another. (Here's a picture of two of the fellows from our reunion last week):

As they approached, I used sign language to communicate and show them I was a man of peace,  but it was obvious that they were not literate in "visual Krutthammer". I then tried my German on them but the twins began to cry. What I thought meant "Hello, I am a friendly paranormal investigation theorist" came out "Your Grandmother was a Nazi collaborator".

Having now exhausted my options, I settled on english. That seemed to ease the tension but the twins still haven't gotten over our initial introduction. The wizard spoke first and asked if I was all right. I told him I was fine and that the grapefruit sized swelling from the dart would go down within a few weeks. Then they explained that they were going to spend the day building a cage of pine saplings and moss and that they were going to take the giant badger into town the following day. It turned out that they were Cryptozoologists from Turtleford, on the Turtle River in the Turtle Lakes region of Saskatchewan. I was very pleased that they were trained in a similar discipline to mine but it was obvious that my training was far superior to theirs. I pointed out that their prize catch was wearing jeans and that he was seeing out of his mouth since the badger head was two sizes too big. I also pointed out that he answers to the name "Pearly", and that his body hair was actually interior lining from an old winter coat stitched together with fishing line.
The Blaine twins, aspiring NASCAR drivers who ran the demolition derby outside of Balgonie, began to cry again as they saw their dreams of being world famous drivers turn to vapor. They had all planned to take their giant badger on a world tour, make millions and then buy a huge tract of land where they would construct their own racecourse and found their own racing circuit - called "SASKAR".
The wizard, who's name was Sheldrake, calmly took out a great big magnifying glass and smacked Pearly on the side of his head, loosening the chipmunk that was lodged in his badger ear.
The younger man, simply called "Spike", was impressed with my skilled observations and asked if he could study with me in the future, because that was where we would have to spend the rest of our lives.
I was touched by Spike's poetic sentiment. I then pointed out the irony that Pearly was in fact the Cryptozoology instructor at the Krutthammer Institute!  I was about to help Pearly out of his disguise when we were all frozen by a piercing wail coming out of the distant darkness!
(to be continued)

My Journey Part 10: Reunited!

To say I was stunned would be the understatement of the moment. The strange calls and cackling led me to the campfire of four men (I know that as a trained Paranormal Investigation Specialist I should never assume a creature is actually human). They sat in a circle around the roaring fire laughing and cajoling, elbowing and slapping the backs of each other's heads, drooling on their shoes, spitting up and akwardly scratching themselves, along with various sounds and activities my personal dignity will not allow me to repeat. I misted up a bit, as it reminded me of nights in the UFO pit back in Angus Hat and OctoberFest up in Cut Knife. They were having a great old time. Their cries of "Biermay! Biermay!" were actually requests for beer, which they had in four industrial sized coolers. 
They seemed to be celebrating something - perhaps they were hunters acclaiming a good day of killing. There are many hunters in Saskatchewan, or more precisely, there are lots of people with guns. During hunting season and most Saturday nights you can hear guns going off all around Angus Hat. I personally own a gun; an 1839 Pepperbox. My great great great grand uncle Olaf von Puddenbottam was it's original owner. He owned it for a very short time. He was wondering if it actually had pepper in it and tried to shake some on his Kartoffelbrei ; when none came out he looked into the barrel and the rest, as they say, is family history.
I decided that I had to act. Years of training as a Paranormal Investigation Specialist has sharpened and honed me into a veritable communication  machine! They looked like nice enough fellows so I calmly approached them shaking and waving my hands up in the air, yelling at the top of my lungs to reassure them that I was coming in peace. I hadn't realized it (there are no natural mirrors in a bog), but I was covered with a week's worth of dirt, mud and moss, so naturally their reaction was quite shocking: Although all four were heavyset men, they all fell backwards onto their knapsacks and pulled out some fearsome looking equipment. I began to flail my arms wildly and make whooping sounds, hoping this would make them feel at ease, but they quickly took up positions around me and pointed their.....Cameras? I was astonished!
My first thought was to communicate with them so I chose to call out in German. I unfortunately hadn't spoken German since I did the zingshpiel recitatives from Tannhauser with my mom, so it came out as drivel (ironically, that's what some say about Wagner). The scene became tense. They tried to outflank me, but my flanks are quite substantial. Then one of them pulled out a rope and fashioned it into a loop, which made me think that they were Supreme Court judges on vacation, looking to bypass the system. Another one whipped out a long metal tube and pointed it at me. He blew into it and then everything faded to black.
When I regained consciousness, I was sitting upright next to - a giant badger? It was Pearly!
(To be continued)

My Journey Part 9: Revelation!

The shrieks and howls got louder as I slowly approached. I decided to stop and hide behind a tree for a little while. "No need to just barge in" I thought to myself. I spend a lot of time speaking to myself, come to think of it. To begin with, I like what I have to say and I know it's all coming from a sincere heart and mind. I also know that everything I think has to be true, so I see there being a lot of solace and comfort in it. Another aspect of "self-informing" is that whatever I tell myself has been filtered through years of specialized training as a Paranormal Investigation Theorist! I  I was going to have to bring all of that skill and depth of understanding to my next challenge. 
I tried to recount my notes on Paranormal sounds.

I had collected volumes of data over the last several years while sitting atop the Sasquatch Pole or nestled in the UFO pit outside of Angus Hat. I had no audio recording device so I used the next best thing......

 - my Brain! I began to catalogue the sounds in two ways: by written onomatopoeic sound and by color. Sounds like "Boeirumnudst!", an obvious Sasquatch mating call, would have a color reflecting the emotion next to it. Here's an example of the over 22,000 sounds I've recorded: 

Unfortunately I had no access to these precious files, so I had to stir up my memory to hear any possible matches with previously recorded sounds. I tried not to breathe in order to pick up every nuance possible; I picked up a call that sounded like "Biermay, biermay! before I started to black out. I quickly began breathing again, avoiding a nasty fall in the brush. The sound returned -"Biermay, biermay!" It sounded almost human, but that's how Sasquatches fool us. They are obviously wonderful mimics!  Many's the time I think I'm sneaking up on a tribe of Sasquatches, only to find some of the local boys sitting around the campfire trading imaginary war stories. Those creatures really know how to throw their voices! 

I knew that this time I had the drop on the Sasquatches; they would never suspect a human, particularly a trained Paranormal Investigation Theorist like myself,  to be so far away from the comforts of civilization. Also, I hadn't bathed in quite a while, was covered in marsh mud and frog dung and had rubbed my hair with pine sap, so there was no way they could pick up my scent. 

I noticed a light in a clearing up ahead, obscured by the bushes and trees before me. The light was not constant but flickered wildly. I have read reports of Sasquatches being linked to extraterrestrial visitations, which I think is a lot of hogwash. It's obvious from the evidence that Sasquatches are earth creatures. The have advanced civilizations and live under the earth in giant caverns where they build wheel-less vehicles and other infernal contraptions. It's plainly evident that they developed a type of light energy for work and travel under the earth - the main reason we don't see too many of them is because they only come up out of their lairs to hunt for berries or to relieve themselves.

Perhaps I had stumbled upon one of their surface hatches! With luck I could catch one trying to get back under and while it was about to batten the hatch I'd knock it out and be able to go into their netherworld where I could sketch up a storm with my trusty crayons! I prepared my crudely fashioned club and sallied forth out of the brush and into the clearing. What awaited me shocked my socks off:

There sat four humans around a fire - drinking Beer!!

(to be continued)

My Journey Part 8: The Panic

Pearly was considerably softened up after numerous blows to the head so he was rather compliant when I questioned him- in fact it was a challenge to keep him sitting up. I jokingly chided him and tried to ease the situation by regaling him with amusing anecdotes from my recent adventures. He was having trouble seeing forward as his eyes kept rolling back into his head so my only recourse was the obvious: I swatted him across the other side of his head where it was less swollen. I did not achieve the desired result until about an hour later. It seems Pearly responds best to at least two dozen firm blows, at roughly five minute intervals, to either side of his brainpan.
I made him a tea of  moss steeped in marsh water and he seemed to come to his senses, although he was convinced I was "Lippy The Lion" and he was "Hardy Har Har" for at least another hour. I let him sleep it off and in the morning the sun came up and Pearly's swelling had gone down. We spent a good part of the morning foraging for food. Since I was preparing a meal for two I had to use my boot grinder to make some flavorful sausage patties. I'm glad dad invented the grinder mechanism in the heel of my left boot. It saddens me to think that poor old dad never patented this fine invention.
Here's my dad's detailed schematic that was never sent to the Canadian patent office:

He used to say "son, a man's boot is the perfect shape for a meat grinder, and don't let anybody tell you different!" Oh the fun we used to have! I treasured moments like that because I didn't get to spend an awful lot of time with dad - he being a professional hobo/sausagemaker and all.
Anyway, we gathered the day's catch and I took my boot off and set it firmly on a lichen covered rock. (lichen, nature's no-slip-grip!) I stuck the turning handle in the socket on the side of my heel and then started throwing in the ingredients:
Berries, pine needles, some salamanders, grubs, a few frogs, some sand and moss for filler and one egg.
I ground the sausage,formed some small patties and then left them on a rock for the sun to bake them. Of course, this being northern Saskatchewan, it would be quite a while before they reached the proper temperature. We whiled the time away with some gentle interrogation.
I was curious as to why Pearly was dressed like a giant badger and his explanation was quite simple. With me gone from Angus Hat, he got lonely and began longing for Leona, the badger he had lived with for so many years. They eventually broke up because he grew tired of living underground in the dark and she could not reconcile in her heart that they were different. She thought that it would be too much for her brood, seeing as how "daddy" was much larger and generally hairless. She was fearful that all the other little badgers in badger school would mock and taunt her kids. She knew that badger society was not yet ready for mixed relationships.
Pearly had a lot going against him but he was convinced that if he wore a badger suit, it wouldn't be so bad. 
I tried to dissuade him from pursuing this lofty dream of his but he just burst into tears and ran off into the woods. I thought about following after him but my attention was quickly drawn to the far side of the nearby bog. There were panicked screams, otherworldly shrieks and howls!
Thankfully, my years of  training in Paranormal Investigation Theorizing and deductive analysis served me well: I decided to walk towards where the sounds were coming from.
(to be continued)

The Krutthammer Institute Of Higher Theorizations

I'm taking a time out from my riveting tale to answer an important letter:

"Hello. I am interested in attending the Krutthammer Institute for Higher Theorizations. How much is the tuition, and do you offer scholarships? I believe I would qualify for a scholarship as my friends always say that I tell a lot of "tall tales", and that i "belong in an institute". I'm always coming up with theories about all sorts of things. For example, I'm pretty sure I know why marshmellows are soft. And also, why do trees usually grow upwards? I have a theory about that too! Please send me the registration forms for your institute. Thank you" 

.Zack Greely

I get thousands of requests from aspiring Paranormal Investigation Theorists every week and since I've come back I have neglected to inform you all as to how the Institute operates.

Let me be up front and tell you that I don't offer scholarships. 

I don't know what that is.

What I am looking for is super smart intuitive individuals who are willing to sacrifice everything to continue our noble work and possibly help out with the grinding from time to time. 

Here's a photo of the Institute just outside of Angus Hat, Saskatchewan, Canada, Earth:

The metallic disc in the top left corner is a hubcap Norv was using to practice his skeet shooting. You have a clear picture of the main building and in the background on the left is our investigative mobile unit, the "Paranormobile" which is fitted with the latest technology. we don't have a dormitory as yet but students are welcome to live in the woods out back if they bring their own tents and sleeping bags. There is a small "foraging fee" if you eat what's in the woods. 

Class begins a eleven in the morning on Mondays, Thursdays and alternating Fridays. On all other days, class begins at eleven ten. On the alternating Fridays we go on an actual field trip and put what you've learned in the classroom to practical use - and collect ingredients for sausage making (squirrels won't come of their own volition, you know). If you take the full course, you also participate in the Saturday sausage-making and foot-bathing ritual. 

After five years of intense study you will become a trained Paranormal Investigation Theorist! Your degree will allow you to work in the fascinating world of Theorisms and the skill sets you develop can get you other work, like esoteric tour guide or psychic - or even telephone marketing specialist!

The faculty is well known to millions of our regular readers:

Porky Smuts teaches Inter-galactic Signing, Norv teaches Archaic Non-Languages, Lem teaches how to build Paranormal Traps and Detectors (He outfitted the Paranomobile and runs a filing station) Pearly teaches Intuitive Psychic Communication with non-humans And Maximillian is Guidance Counsellor, Nurse and Janitor.

I myself conduct lectures twice a day, working from a free form improvisational curriculum. Our fee is ten dollars a day or five dollars a day if you promise to be our friend. Ladies don't pay at all! At the end of every semester we go on a major field trip to Uranium City! 

Enrollment must be in person and there will be some incidental tests of strength and ordeal by fire to find the most promising candidates.

Here are the directions for getting to Angus Hat: If you decide to fly here, make sure the plane (or other craft) is not flying too low when you jump out. If you time it right, you can land in the pond down the road from the Institute. if you take the Trans-Canada highway through Saskatchewan, there's a grain elevator with an abandoned Texaco station next to it. There's a dirt road heading north right near there. it's the only one that comes this way - in fact, it becomes Main Street here in Angus Hat! Stay on the dirt road for about four hundred and eighty five miles and you'll come to a big rock. The road will veer west and you'll go another three hundred and eighteen miles until you come to a clump of trees. The road will veer north and you'll go another two hundred and sixty six miles until you get to a farmhouse. Then you travel another forty four miles and you'll see the sign for Angus Hat. Then it's another hundred and seventy one miles north west and here you are! Remember to fill up your gas tank since there's no filling stations until you get here. Then you can go to Lem's filling station. He sells gas.

Looking forward to meeting all you applicants! Remember, it's first come first serve!

Blitz Out

My Journey Part 7: Badger!

Imagine my astonishment at hearing what sounded like my name being spoken by this hairy creature I had just clonked on the noggin! Had these beings, (obviously Sasquatches from an Ice-Moon of Jupiter
-nothing escapes the trained eye of a Paranormal Investigation Theorist) been following me and tracking my every word and motion? Were they able to read my thoughts and thus discover my name? I did a quick analysis of this now peaceful creature. He/she/it was still breathing but remained quite still, making it easy to go over every inch of the body for clues as to it's origin. Although obviously covered with hair there were some puzzling aspects to this specimen: For one thing, the lower extremities were sheathed in denim. I had not read this in any of the Extra-Terrestrial journals that I follow (Norv writes one, as does Maximillian and there's Gunther Spurck out at Porcupine Plain, near Preeceville) so I surmised that somehow, these creatures have managed to grow cotton on the frozen wasteland of Io! Further investigation revealed that his foot pads were covered in a mix of canvas (probably from the same cottonfields) plastic and rubber compounds.
The next step, of course, was to perform an autopsy to see if it had any internal organs that resemble ours. I didn't have the luxury of washing up and this was going to be the largest creature I ever cut open (for investigative purposes). I got out my trusty swiss army knife and my black crayon for marking where I was going to cut when suddenly, the creature began to groan! It thrust it's hands forward and seemed to be asking for something. I slowly lifted my club and was just about to clonk it one more time when it began making communicative noises and gestures. I gave it a light shot to the side of the head to bring it to it's senses. Another two smacks to the temple got it making audible noises. I took a good look at it's face while it writhed on the ground and it dawned on me that the facial structure was that of a large badger!
It tried to speak and the sound made me shudder in relentless horror...it was saying "Blitz! Blitz! Blitz!"
I gave it another swat in the head with the club. It yelled "OW! Stop!" I gave it one more bat to the side of the head and it got quiet again. This giant space badger looked up at me with pleading eyes and said "Blitz, it's me, Pearly!" I gave it another smack and it finally went limp. "Itzmipurlee"? Was this a code word or phrase meant to bring some automaton to active duty? Some series of commands to bring down the mother ship? I lifted my club to give one more blow when, to my surprise, the creature pulled his own head off!
There was another head under that one, like a Russian nesting doll, except this was one I recognized...the headless badger was Pearly!
(to be continued)

My Journey Part 6: A Cry In The Darkness!

Having dispensed with the shiney object in the sky after realizing it was actually a full moon, my attention was drawn to a far more serious situation: There was an entity of some sort in the bushes near a clump of trees: It had what seemed to be a human form - arms, legs, head - but there was definitely a difference; it was covered with hair and had large pointy ears!
I slowly backed away - for a better view, of course - and promptly stepped on a sleeping porcupine. When the squealing subsided(mine, not the porcupine's), I resumed my watch, but the being had disappeared. My deductive juices were flowing now and my years as a trained paranormal investigation theorist came to bear. The first thing I did was carefully detail what I had just seen with my crayons. The memory was still vividly fresh in my mind:

There were several possible explanations for this phenomenon: It may have been a bear but this is highly unlikely since bears do not possess the power of invisibility. I happen to have spent a lot of time with bears(they make great sausage) and this particular being did not leave an ursine impression. Another possibility was yet another Sasquatch sighting. I am personally peeved at these hirsute hooligans who just peep out of the woods now and again and never come close enough for experts like me to evaluate and analyze them! It is well known in my circles that all the cryptozoological theories about these so-called "bigfoots" ia all wet. The reason they can't find any evidence of Sasquatch communities, artifacts and such is so obvious an embryo could see it - if it's eyes were fully formed.

Sasquatches are extra terrestrial beings from an ice planet, or possibly one of the frozen moons of Jupiter or Saturn. They are seen mostly in the north because it's colder. I know this escapes most people but remember, I am a paranormal investigation theorist!

The first thing you do if you're serious about Sasquatches is look for their Starship, then you can trail them properly. The reason we sat up high on our Sasquatch pole back in Angus Hat was for that very reason. I decided to set a trap for my furry friend, but what could I use?

My years of training served me again as I designed a foolproof snare:

I carefully dug a small shallow pit next to the tree nearest to where my vaporific visitor was last seen. Then I fashioned a club out of a thick sapling. With measured deliberation I placed a sausage from my bag two inches from the center of the shallow pit. I made a weave of pine and spruce twigs for my head and hid behind the tree. Camouflaged as I was, I lay in wait for the cryptic creature. My Plan?

After a lifetime of sausage making I know what attracts Sasquatches; Certain that it would go for the sausage, I would only need to jump out from behind the tree and bash it into submission.

Day slowly turned to night. I started to doze off but was suddenly brought to attention by some rustling in the bush. I saw a hairy hand reach for the sausage and I jumped into action! I swung my paranormal investigation club right at it's head and it went down in a heap! I finally had physical evidence!

I turned the now groggy beast over and heard a faint gurgling voice say what sounded like....Blitz?

(to be continued)

Another Letter From A Fan

I just received this highly inspirational, insightful and correct letter from a fan:
"Dear Blitz. Your in-depth analysis of the shiny object in the sky and your actual encounter with it makes me believe that you are much more than an Alien Theorist. you are selling yourself short, my friend. Can i call you my friend? In my circles, gifted individuals such as yourself are more accurately known, appreciated, and yes, celebrated, as "Paranormal Theory Whisperers." Your pencil drawings perplex and intrigue me.

Although they can rival any HD picture that the best camera in the world can snap, you choose to share your world with us with gut wrenching and intimate images. You give us a glimpse of your universe. You invite us in. But then again, that's what a good whisperer does. You show us images so simple that common ungifted mortals like us understand. You come down to our level to impart your knowledge. You teach. You share. I only know one other individual on this planet with the same magnitude of talent. Just like Oprah, you are born to be a teacher and a healer. That is your gift. Your mission in life. Your calling. I am sure you are the prize and glory of Saskatchewanians all over the world."

Thank you dear reader, I'm deeply moved by your well wishes. It is truly a severe burden to bear, being as insightful and intuitive as I am. My sainted mother used to tell me this as I was growing up - mind you, I didn't understand what she was saying for the first years of my life because of the constant noise in the house. Everything came into focus when we got a "Silent Stan" meat grinder. Dad (when he wasn't hoboing) insisted on adding gravel and broken glass to the sausage mix and it made an awful racket! When we got the Silent Stan, Dad started using powdered glass and very fine ball bearings whic brought the decibel level down cosiderably.

But I digress. Mama encouraged me in my paranormal endeavors because mama had psychic abilities as well! She brought the skill of reading stockpots over from the old country. 

Stockpots from all over Angus Hat were brought to the house daily for my mom to read. She could tell if someone was cheating on their mate or who the real father of any baby was, just by analyzing the position of the limp carrots and celery in proximity to the chicken or beef bones. Needless to say, this was a highly specialized skill! Mama would tuck me in at night and sing opera to me. I mean entire operas in sequence over many nights. She was, naturally, fond of the Germanic repertoire so von Weber and Wagner were staples in our home. From birth to puberty all I heard was "der Ring das Nibelungen" in order. I remember my voice breaking just as mama sang Brunhilda's immolation song. After each installment, mama would lean over me and whisper "Bleetzie, you are ganz besonderer". She'd then go to my estranged brother Homer and whisper "Homikins, you are verruckt in der gehirn" I don't know what either meant but I know it was said with the best intentions.

Here's a picture my estranged brother Homer took of mom putting me to bed:

My mother is no longer with me; she's in that big kitchen in the sky, working in a restaurant up in the Calgary Tower. She sends her greetings now and then, and did get me in as the sole supplier for the sausage concession at the Calgary Saddle Dome.

Thanks again for the letter,

Blitz out.

My Journey Part 5: The Hairy One

Dear reader, nothing is more fearful and vomit-at-the-back-of-your-throat-just-behind-your-last-tastebud-you-can-feel-it's-acidic-burn dread , than being alone in the wilderness and realizing that you are being watched! Yes, there I was in my noble and yet gracefully humble pursuit as a paranormal investigation theorist, rummaging for Egyptian artifacts in the wilds of northern Saskatchewan when I felt a presence! Slowly I turned, step by step and inch by inch, trudging forward  through the boreal brush as my sense of the presence grew stronger!
I was both stunned and astonished - then I felt dizzy - possibly from the stunning astonishment. Losing my footing in the process, I tumbled down to a clearing and, flat on my back, saw what I had felt; off in the distant sky, a luminous entity, hovering and glowing in mid air. I quickly pulled out my trusty crayons and sketch pad and delineated in careful detail what I was viewing:

When my abject horror subsided, I reconnected with my cool, detached, professional objectivity.

My first conclusion was that the Cow Mutilating Aliens had finally caught up with me as I had obviously gotten too close to the truth in my paranormal investigations. I resigned myself to a quick liquidation as I was certain that they had an onboard death-ray and since they probably admired my skills and respected my credentials as a theorist, they would wish me a quick and glorious end.

I waited, teeth clenched and eyes closed for about an hour but the luminous craft had not moved any closer. My next conclusion was that my discovery of the pyramid shaped mound may have triggered an alarm and some guardian or watchman had been dispatched to the scene to collect information. 

I stood in the clearing and tried to communicate using sign language. You may be wondering, devoted reader, what kind of universal sign language was Blitz using?

It is a well known fact among theorists in my area of expertise (paranormal investigation) that the Michael Jackson video "Billy Jean" is actually the first in a series of training films for Universal Alien Symbolic Signage (or UASS as it's known in our circles) which include "Thriller" and "Bad". It's pretty much an open secret that Michael Jackson was one of the top Extra-Terrestrial leaders, known to politicians and statesmen as an emissary. His aberrant behavior is stone cold proof of his unfamiliarity with our world's ways. 

I must have "danced" for two hours or so and still no response. I noticed as time passed that the luminous object took all night to slowly drift across the sky. Dawn was fast approaching and the entity was fading. What was their mission? To watch me over the span of the evening and check out my fine crotch-grabbing signing? I didn't have time to process the facts as I turned and noticed a tall hairy being staring at me from the bush!

to be continued.

Letter From A Fan

I thought I'd take a break from my "Journey To The Unknown" memoir and give you an example of the thousands of messages I receive on an almost daily basis from my precious and devoted readers:
Hello Blitz,
I find your energy and dedication inspiring! I wish there were more people like you. If more people did as you do, we could rid the world of Alien Cow Mutilators(ACMs)! I am so sick and tired of these extra-terrestrial-slicer- and-dicers ruining my appetite as I try to get through the day without putting my fist through a cardboard box or other easy to crush objects! I mean, what gives them the right to arbitrarily pick and choose parts of our bovine brothers and sisters? Can't they find some other planet to harass? I know that underneath the surface of Mars, the locals have cattle that they have domesticated for their milk and meat. Granted, they are only two martian inches long(about seven eighths of a centimeter) and could be harder to cut into but from what I've seen on TV, Aliens aren't very large anyway. The very large creatures are usually found on earth, encased in ice at either pole, waiting for a thermonuclear explosion to release them for massive misunderstood mayhem. Do you see what I'm getting at?
Thank you for your attention,
Armen Campfirer
My hats off to you (the plural is intended) Armen, for you are the type of person most necessary in our struggle to get the word out concerning the pernicious proliferation of profligation so prevalent on our planet. You're probably wondering what I mean by that statement and that in itself is a noble endeavor!
I agree that the ACMs have overdone their perverse interest in our cattle and it's time they stopped - or we stopped them. If any ACMs are reading this (I know for a fact that they are!), let me suggest  our local abbatoire "Lund's Slaughterhouse and Laundromat" just a few miles outside of Angus Hat. Old Ollie will gladly hand over any cow parts you may be interested in!

As you can see, even though I am a trained Paranormal Investigation Theorist, I'm all about solutions!
Blitz out.

My Journey Part 4: The Shiney Object

Before I continue my story about the mound I rolled into, I'd like to respond to one of the thousands of messages I got yesterday, this one from a mister Don Fract  who wrote:
"Um, it's a nice story. A bit long. But can't we get an update in Lem? And how dud your wife hold out during your ordeal?"If you are asking for an update "in Lem" I'm assuming you're referring to the parasite that lives in him. There's nothing new to report there. Their symbiotic relationship continues to grow and I think they're quite fond of each other. They're currently working on a ventriloquist act.As fo my "Wife", I don't have a "Wife". If I had a "Wife" I wouldn't be sitting on a Sasquatch Pole on  a Saturday night after spending the day stuffing sausages. It's been difficult for me to find a woman like my dear mother - or any woman for that matter. The town of Angus Hat has no women. The nearest females are at the Uranium mining town of Uranium City. The place is lit up twenty four hours a day - and they have no street lights, just the soft green radiation glow.The women there also glow, but not because of pride; When they go to the beach in bathing suits over at the Arm river, You can see through them like an Xray! That's why their undergarments are made of Lead. Needless to say, they go to the beach but not in the water, as they will tend to sink. The effects of the Uranium go even further: There isn't a single woman under eight feet tall!But enough about me; time to get back to my story. As previously mentioned I rolled willy nilly and helter skelter down a hillock and smack dab into a large pyramid shaped mound!I have included a detailed drawing I rendered from memory of what this monolith looked like: 

It was twelve feet tall and twelve feet wide (interesting...). Multiplying the width and height give us the number  one hundred and forty four.If you add each digit you get the number nine. My heart began to beat wildly as a thought came to me: nine is the number of toes I have!  Was there a connection? Did I really lose my toe in the sausage grinder when I tried to multi-task that fateful Tuesday twenty years ago or... was I abducted by cattle mutilating extra terrestrials who surgically removed it for their nefarious probes and experiments? I do remember that there were seventeen minutes I couldn't account for that day. I had much to ponder - I had to use all my experience and skill as a paranormal investigation theorist to get to the bottom of this mystery. Another question that arose was "Why a pyramid?" Is it possible that ocean-going Egyptian argonauts sailed across from Africa, landed on the east coast, built wagons and crossed the country to this area of Saskatchewan? We know for a fact that Egyptians sailed to Central America and introduced the fajita and flan to the natives there. How far fetched is it to assume that they traveled up here?I got up and searched around for clues that could support my theory. I was looking for anything remotely connected with ancient Egypt - perhaps a sarcophagus or maybe camel bones, or possibly something made with garbonza beans.I had to curtail my investigation as it was beginning to get dark. It was then that I noticed that I wasn't alone. There was something out there, hovering in the distance!
(to be continued)

My Journey Part 3:The Mound

As mentioned in my previous entry, I ran headlong into a pitch black aperture beneath a large growth of trees to escape the dark entity that was right on my heels! (I have included one of my crayon sketches which will bring this story to vivid life for you, dear reader) The cave was deep and long enough to soften my fall as I landed in a heap on a pile of dead leaves, twigs and some young badgers. As the critters scurried off in all directions,  I stood up and promptly banged my head on a large tree root. This seemed to have done me some good - a bracer, if you will, to refresh me after my ordeal.
Upon reflection I then realized that my pursuer was none other than my own shadow, a consequence of walking straight towards the sun. I chuckled quietly to myself so as not to disturb the badgers that were already cowering in the far corner of the cave. How foolish of me, to fear my own shadow! It was then that mama badger jumped me. We rolled on the cave floor as I held her claws as far from my face as possible until her anger seemed to subside.
Then, softly and serenely, she looked straight into my eyes and I into hers...could it be? Yes! It was Leona, the badger my pal Pearly lived with in the Northwest Territories for so many years! She licked my face and suddenly jumped out of my arms and out of view for a few moment. What a relief to find a friendly face after all that had befallen me.
Leona returned with some gifts for me: several grubs, worms, a short tail shrew, two newts and a field mouse. How I wished I was back home with my sausage grinder now! I fashioned a crude mortar and pestle and was about to make some pate when I noticed a flat circular shaped object under one of the newts. Being a trained paranormal investigation theorist, I quickly deduced that since there was no river in the area to create a smooth stone such as this, it must have been left here by some advanced civilization - perhaps from another galaxy!

I put the object in my bag and went back to my gastronomical pursuits. Leona and I had a lovely dinner of pate on tree bark crackers and strained marsh water -deelish! After a tearful goodbye, I headed off with a twofold purpose: to find my way home and discover the source of this strange object I had found.

I wandered through the forest for a while, trying to find some landmark that looked familiar. The whole area I was in seemed strange and unfamiliar. Had I entered a portal of some kind that took me to somewhere far away from Angus Hat? If so, then how did Leona get here? Was she even really a badger? Speaking of which, how much do we really know about badgers? Why do they prefer living underground? Is it because they are in contact with a race of beings who have vast cities under the earth?And what about moles and prairie dogs, groundhogs and woodchucks? When dogs bury bones, are they really burying them or is that simply a ruse to throw us off so that we don't listen in on their secret communications? Why is it that dogs can hear frequencies that we are unable to apprehend? Is that how these superior underground mutants keep in contact? These were my musings as I wandered. I came to another conclusion: It's best to watch where you step. As I was not paying attention to my footing, I fell forward off a small tree covered hillock, causing me to roll downward until my momentum was abruptly stopped by a massive monolithic, pyramid shaped mound!

(to be continued)

My Journey Part 2: The Cave!

As I regained consciousness after that night of March 6th, I realized I was being pulled along the ground. I quickly found out that this was not the  case - I was actually sliding down hill and ended up in the water.
I was standing knee deep in one of the Honeymoon lakes at dawn, wondering why I was so far from home. I still had my trusty PIT bag so survival would not be a problem (Sausage and Pemmican take a long time to digest) but I had to find my way back and figure out who that dark hairy being was that I had seen behind the trees on my Sasquatch watch! I fashioned a hiking stick/quarterstaff/wizard's shillelagh out of a spruce sapling and began my journey walking towards the sun, as I assumed it would get warmer the closer I got. As I slogged along in the marsh I looked for clues of any kind of paranormal activity since I AM a paranormal investigation theorist. It was hard to find footprints in water so I decided to look for tell-tale hairs or skin caught in twigs and branches.
As I continued towards the sun I noticed that there were no signs of civilization anywhere; I was a man alone in the wilderness - or so I thought! I had not noticed that there was something following my every move, stopping when I stopped, starting when I started. A pall of fear began to shroud my thoughts and envelope my mind. Was I being followed? And if so, who or what? Did they have transportation? Food?As a trained paranormal investigation theorist I had to quickly analyze the facts before me and arrive at a sensible conclusion. My conclusion was to run. I ran as hard as I could considering I was knee deep in a marsh. Progress was slow but I managed to get up to higher ground, which I've learned gives you the upper hand in every situation. I still sensed a dark presence at my heels so I picked up my pace and ran right into a tree! I picked my self up quickly and kept running, feeling the darkness almost overtaking me.
I suddenly felt the angle of the ground change and realized I was going downhill at an almost uncontrollable speed. I was approaching a mound up ahead with what seemed to be a large black spot at the bottom - it was a cave! I began to zigzag in a serpentine fashion, hoping to misdirect my pursuer but he/she/it wasn't buying my trickery. My only hope seemed to be a headfirst jump into the mouth of the cave - so I went for it, holding my PIT bag to my face so I wouldn't hurt myself too much.
To be continued.

ALIVE!! I'm ALIVE!!

Yes I'm alive and well and filled with a true sense of purpose! I am presenting myself in this new format since I've returned but you can find out all about me and my friends here in Angus Hat Saskatchewan at my travel site http://travelswithblitz.blogspot.com/

Where to begin? I'm back from a journey that few have ever experienced and lived to tell the tale.
I know that my millions of devoted fans have been concerned about me since it's been almost a year since my last communication with the outside world. I just want you to know that I'm fine.
I lost quite a bit of weight as these before and after pictures will show:

I've been living on berries and grubs for the eleven months of my ordeal - let me tell you that sausage is tasting real good right now so I should be back to my normal weight  in no time!

Well, you're all probably wondering where I've been, so here's my story: 

On Saturday , March 6th, 2010, I was busy with my sausage grinder, whipping up another batch of dad's    hobo sausage (minus the nails and broken glass) when a call came through the window. Lem was calling me from his place, asking if I would take his turn on the Sasquatch pole that night. He had to stay in his cellar until the skunk rash poultice was done reducing. It was still too runny.

I was just minutes away from hanging my sausages so I figured it would be nice to help Lem out (you never know when skunk rash will strike so it's smart to be on Lem's good side).

I slung my Special investigator's PIT bag  over my shoulder and headed for the pole.

I never revealed to you, faithful reader, the contents of my Special Investigator's PIT bag - until now!

Every Paranormal Investigative Theorist carries with him/her/it these field essentials:

Pocket telescope

X-ray glasses

Matches

Lighter fluid

Pen knife

Crayons

Notebook

Toothbrush

Candy

Skunk Rash poultice

Dried Sausage or Pemmican

Back to my story: I climbed the Sasquatch pole and set myself up at around sundown. 

I had a nice view of our town of Angus Hat on one side and the forest on the other.

When it had gotten pretty dark I was pulling on some pemmican when, all of a sudden, I heard a rustling noise coming from the forest to my right. At first I thought it was my estranged brother Homer doing his Saturday night streak. He likes running naked but is self conscious so he waits until after sundown.

Anyway, this being was moving slowly and stealthily and was covered with hair. I noticed the scent in the air changed from pine needle to warm cheese curd - one of the sure signs of Sasquatch!

I quickly pulled out what I thought was my pocket'scope and put it up to  my eye, only to discover it was actually my penknife, which, unfortunately, was covered with lighter fluid. As I writhed in pain I lost my footing and fell off the pole. When I regained consciousness I felt the back of my head scraping the ground - along with the rest of me. I had one leg raised only because the hairy being was pulling me along by the ankle!

(to be continued)