Sunday, February 19, 2012

The Illusive Crotch-Squatch


Editor's note: Prof. Ted Gunderson is a world renowned Cryptozoologist, cuisinier, huntsman, fundamentalist christian and vitriolic Republican. His journal of political thought and mythical cuisine is published out of his garage.



Burns, OR - You can imagine the stunned, dumb-fucked expression on my face when I made the discovery.  I have spent many a wasted decade pursuing the unknown, dipping my bits in the undiscovered, forcefully plunging waste deep into that which is Cryptid.  After countless expeditions I have very little to show for my life's work.  Until now fuckers!  Who'da thunk that all I had to do validate my career was to meticulously peer at my own hairy groin. 

Recently, I have been plagued by a painfully itchy crotch.  No silverware scrape or creamy lotion could soothe my inflamed pubis.  Fearing that my constant port-o-potty visits exposed me to an especially virulent form of crabs, I equipped my magnifying glass and began my investigation.

Much to my surprise, after many hours of pube-peeping, I spotted something strange.  In the corner of my magnifying glass, I saw something deftly hide behind a tuft of hairs.  Thinking I had finally spotted my quarry, I equipped my Crab Grabbers (tweezers) and pulled aside the concealing hairs.  Behind my magnified bits of bush was a creature of legend, the Crotch-Squatch (Paranthropus Pubis).  The tiny cousin of the great Sasquatch.

The Crotch-Squatch (Paranthropus Pubis)

The beast, knowing it was cornered and hoping to appease my hungry tweezers, gave me a friendly wave.  Amazed, I waved back.  How long has this majestic creature roamed my groin?  Are there more of them?  The Crotch-Squatch is the most rare and illusive of all the sasquatches.  I now consider the thick tufts of hair surrounding my meaty genitals a private nature preserve.  I will do whatever it takes to protect and care for the Crotch-Squatch and his possible kin.

Every morning I smear my genitals in pine tar and banana puree.  I rinse my naughty bits in only the purest mountain spring water.The last time I spotted my pubic pal, his belly was jolly and he was gleefully dining on stringy glops of pine tar and banana mash from my short and curlys.

I will continue to be a good loin landlord to my tiny friend.  I will observe him in his natural habitat and record his actions in my "Journal of the Unknown".  It's chock full of crazy shit.  I will tolerate the constant pelvic irritation for the good of the species..........  Oooooohhhh.....  I think he is digging for "roots" again.  That is not a pleasant sensation. 

Ciao and Godspeed -Prof. T. Gunderson



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