So you’ve decided that the daily grind is for cock waffles. You’re taking that one longshot for the heights of stardom that Charlie Sheen could only dream about—if he, in fact, slept. You’re going to pull a Captain Ahab and channel your monomania into a full-on hunt for an elusive freak of nature . You’re going to capture sasquatch, bigfoot, the great skunk ape.
And here’s how:
Drop out of school/quit your job and clean out your savings account. If you don’t get murdered by the exchange rate, withdraw savings in the form of meat. Otherwise, use money to buy meat.
Tell your parents/spouse/sex slave that you’re going to tour the nation’s baseball stadiums and you promise you’ll write. Hug your siblings/children/ventriloquist dummy. Pet your dog/chinchilla/rock. Pack a buttload of sandwiches.
Rustle up a bunch of rope or a garden hose of substantial length. Go rent a U-Haul (and be sure to purchase the insurance). On your way out of town, stop at Borders and peruse the going-out-of-business bargain bin for some trash fiction.
Drive up to the Pacific Northwest and head out to the boonies. Steer clear of meth labs. They repel sasquatch as he finds them tragic.
Forage for sasquatch’s only known vice: freaky-looking forest mushrooms and condor pee. You’re going to need to rub your skin in these, as it will attract sasquatch and mask your natural odor of disillusionment, asbestos, and Tab.
If you were previously unable to procure slabs of meat, run over a(n) deer/elk/horse. Marinate carcass and/or slabs in condor pee and lace with forest mushrooms. Throw the carcass/slabs in the back of the truck and haul ass even deeper into the woods. When you think you’re deep enough, keep going. Repeat until surroundings appear “sasquatchy.”
Set the parking brake. Tie the rope around the tailgate. Hide on top of the truck and wait for Bigfoot. Eat sandwiches as needed.
If sasquatch takes more than two hours to appear you are not hiding properly. Hide better. To pass the time, read your bargain bin page-turner: anything by Dan Brown, Dean Koontz, or Charlaine Harris will do. If necessary, use pages as toilet paper.
When sasquatch finally shows up, don’t comment on his appearance until he enters the truck, as sasquatch has been suffering body image issues ever since he looked kind of roly-poly in that one grainy photo . When he begins munching the carcass, listen closely for the drugs to take effect. Grunting “I Am the Walrus” is the first indication that sasquatch has begun tripping balls. (Note that vocals may sound more guttural than the Beatles). By the time he gets to “coo-coo-ca-choo,” he is safely tranquilized. Jump off truck and use rope/hose to maintain a safe distance while pulling gate shut. Even tranquilized, sasquatch can be dangerous, as he suffers from night-terrors.
Burn rubber back to civilization. Call Oprah. Bask in fame. Get laid.
Optional: Help yourself to any remaining forest mushrooms or condor pee.