Bigfoot Meets Beetlejuice

I speak of “Bigfoot”. . . . . and we don’t just mean “big media foot-print” as this website rises out of obscurity with all your fan-followings.

Haha, bad pun. Whether you take Bigfoot sightings, seriously– there’s a funny story about that famous footage taken back in 1967. It represented “the media foot-print” of the old days when you went to local news stations, stamped-around, and otherwise made a name for yourself in those slower-moving times.

Read about it up on this link:

It sounds like the kind of self-promotional thunder dreamed-up by neighbors somewhere in the Beetlejuice continuum. A $400 ape suit is used to self a documentary, along with a line of outdoors/nature videos conveninetly on sale in the same catalog run by a bit of a P.T. Barnum showman. The real story is hilarious. . . . .

But to think of misadventures going on in a nearby state-park– full of inter-tube rafting and crushed beer cans and pagan rituals– if not a rumor of a UFO that may or may not be swamp-gas. . . . . . Beetlejuice has a home, here.

A vagrant of the camp-grounds enjoying a dawn’s early light coffee with his tangle of hair, livin’ low on the food chain– and as they say in screenwriting, “keep locations, cheap”. You can find all sorts of country/outdoors lore as he messes with flat-faced park rangers and otherwise sleazes up the place, if state parks weren’t filled-up enough with weekend drunks.

Mandatory, is the old “RoadKill cafe” t-shirt just a hop, skip, and jump from your local flea market, literally the crossroads of commerce this side of the Missouri boot-heel. As I know-it, full of ruffians and wild-eyed fundamentalist-types this side of a Star Wars cantina as you sit at the tables, maybe buy a hot-dog and how you have your choice of 4 sodas– Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, and Rootbeer by the perpetually sloshing Slurpee machine.

Get ready for a real ho-down back at the park as Beetlejuice commandeers the meeting benches, gathered under an crude amphitheater shack as it’s this side of those plastic mounted-trouts that swing-out from the wall and sing diddley-bop. You got to be a wily old fox to connect with the locals and Beetlejuice is always sellin’ something.

Life continues in the high summer season of camping, and just watch him get pursued by a lynch-mob– bolting off “like a striped-ass ape” or at least some guy caught in an Big Foot costume. Anyone ever see “Harry and the Henderson’s”?

So just bashing-out some ideas, here and keep your eyes, ears, and mind open “as there’s gold in them, thar hills”. Until next time.

Bigfoot Meets Beetlejuice

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