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)