Meme Alert: Gone Squatchin’

Guys, I know you’re worried about the government shutdown thing.

I hear that. I’m pissed, too.

But, at this moment, there’s another grave matter I need to bring to your attention.


I am about to enter my 30th year of life without a sasquatch sweater.

Do you think that’s an acceptable state of affairs? Because it’s not.

I spotted the first sweater on the wall of a friend who has “No Pants” as his middle name on Facebook.

I shared the image, and approximately one trillion people clicked “like.” (Honesty: The actual quantity was 7. I’m rounding up.)

Another friend sent me a message revealing the second, and Google hooked me up with the third.

I suspect this the best meme ever.

Which one is your favorite? Left by Shredders ($80), center by Fossil ($168), or right by Airblaster (also $80)?

I’m leaning toward the Shredders one because I aspire to be the sort of person who casually carries around chickens.

There’s a squatch in these woods.

Don’t lie to me: you love Finding Bigfoot.

We all do, so stop pretending you’re above it.


I somehow completely managed to miss a strip of leg hair on the front of my shin. Multiple times, it appears. It’s growth my dog would be jealous of.

When I noticed this Never-Never-Land chunk, I pointed it out to my husband, and he laughed at me.

I’m bad at shaving.

But I am good at speed-dialing Ranae Holland on Finding Bigfoot. Or would be, if I had her digits. She’s the sole female and the only rational one on the show. Plus, she’s adorbs. I suspect we would be best friends — the type that doesn’t make fun of each other’s leg hair.

The band we made up — except not.

Is it just me, or do band names sound made up?


My husband made up Werewolf Workweek to make fun of the (real) band Vampire Weekend.

Then I googled “Werewolf Workweek” just to see if that was a thing, and it is. Or was, two years ago.

Look at this photo:


I swear on my life that I did not see this image before I drew mine.

Despite my knowledge of multiple discovery theory, I am creeped the fuck out.

Regardless, I’d go to that show.

Move aside, Monster. This shelf space is reserved for Unicorn Blood™.

Are regular energy drinks not delivering the kick they once did?

Are you up to ten or more cups of coffee a day?

Do you use Four Loko as a sleep aid? 


Try Unicorn Blood™! It’s all-natural, all-organic, and full of antioxidants and vitamins! Plus, it’ll help turn you from an Ugly Wraith to a Less Ugly Snake Person.


I’m celebrity spokesperson Sir Snuggles McDragon, and I condone Unicorn Blood™! It’s “the Christal of blood!” ™


Buy Unicorn Blood™ at your local Ministry of Magic headquarters, K-Mart, or wherever fine cryptozoological products are sold.

It’s only slightly addictive. We promise.

Trundle Manor 2: Electric Boogaloo

Yesterday, I started showing pictures of Trundle Manor (post here), a house of cryptozoology and other — for lack of better phrasing — weird shit.

I was very excited about this (and still am), and began talking to my husband about how I’d found some sweet-ass faux jackalopes for our house of horrors.

(We intend to buy our own house this year, and deck it out in a world of crazy. Our theme is going to be Circus Sideshow, and no, most of our friends won’t let their children over.)

He said, “No real taxidermy, please.”

“But,” I whined, “I found fake taxidermy. Like, artistically-rendered taxidermy.”

“That’s okay, I guess. But no dead animals in the house.”

Alas, I’ll never be the Bloggess at this rate.

That’s okay, though. If you, too, have a partner with a restrictive “no corpses” decorating policy, you can live vicariously through Trundle Manor’s inhabitants.

Speaking of which, let’s continue our journey, shall we?


Nothing’s more uncanny than human teeth in inappropriate places. Science has actually found a fish like this in the real world. Don’t click that link unless you’ve already pooped today.


Oh crap. Monkeys with cymbals, fiji mermaids, and mummified cats.

The owners have a real cat that made me jump when it moved. I can’t imagine being surrounded by my dead compatriots.


You wouldn’t expect a mascot head in there, but when you think about it, they are eerie.


On the right are messed-up model train scene figurines.


A lot of cryptozoology is the combination of one animal and another, like this crocodile on a bird, and this speaker on a skull.


Yes, that car actually runs.

The garage was, sadly, our last stop. Another tour group was standing outside with an apothecary jar of squirrel testicles to donate. Our time was done.


On the way out is the donate button. Donating is the nice thing to do, and it keeps the place open for future guests!

Meanwhile, back in State College, I’ve begun collecting inspiration for our room.

It looks like this:


Bright lights, artsy faux taxidermy, and tattoos galore!

The dolls, though, are just for show. There’s no way I’m keeping those demon-spawn in my household. I’ve seen the Twilight Zone, and I’m no fool.

Wanna continue keeping it weird? Check out my posts on reverse mermaids, skulls, phrenology, and David Bowie.