I’m a Sasquatch, and women love me. You don’t believe me; I know. You think I’m big, hairy, and ugly—that no woman would want a beast like me—but your perception is all wrong. Women find me totally irresistible, and I mean that literally. I’ve met countless women when I stomp through the forest, and as soon as they look into my black eyes, their mouths open wide, and they stare. Agape. They’re under a Sasquatch love spell.
The initial reason, of course, is my hairy chest. What woman wouldn’t want to run her fingers through long black hair like this? I’ve got a chest like a shag carpet, and not only that, I’ve got bulging muscles on every part of my body. I’m eight feet all, stronger than any man alive, and raw masculine strength is something few women can resist. They also can’t resist my intoxicating scent. Some women, after taking one sniff of me, are so drunk with love that their eyes roll back in their head.
While most women are speechless when they first see me, others treat me like a rock star. They scream. It’s an incredible feeling to be loved and adored by someone who doesn’t know you personally. A woman’s shrill voice makes my ear drums rattle, goes down through my body, and I tingle all over. It’s the closest thing I’ve had to a spiritual experience. When a woman screams for me, I feel like I’m being worshiped, but I humble myself and remember, I’m just a Sasquatch—God’s gift to women. But I’m not Him.
If you still doubt that women love me, let me tell you something else. If a woman doesn’t scream when she first sees me, she is so awestruck by the sight of me, she can barely breathe. How many men can make a woman react like that? She stands still like a tree, or trembles at the knees, and can’t even speak. Words cannot express her feelings toward me. But she doesn’t need to tell me what she wants. I can see it in her bulging eyes. I pick her up, put her over my shoulder, hold her by the thigh, and take her back to my cave.
When I bring a woman home, I set her down on my bed of leaves, and then something beautiful happens. She looks at me; I look at her. It’s a soul connection. She breathes deeply, in and out, her bosom heaving like an ocean wave, and it doesn’t take long after that. I never ask her to do it. Overcome by desire, she jumps on me, puts her hands on my hairy chest, and punches me all over. It hurts a little, but I like it. The physical connection, to be touched by a woman like that, makes a Sasquatch feel almost human.
Later, when she stops pounding my body, I tell her with my kind, gruff voice, “I can’t make love to you.” I can see the agony in her eyes, but I tell her softly, “No, not on the first day we’ve met. I’m not that kind of Sasquatch.” I believe sex is something you only do after you really get to know a person. If I made love to a woman I just met, she would never respect me. You know it’s true. And I would never respect her either. If we started our relationship that way, I would always be wondering if, when I’m away from her, she would be having sex with another Sasquatch. A woman who is too easy will cheat on a Sasquatch; that’s a fact.
I’ve brought over a dozen women back to my cave now, but sadly, it always ends the same. When I wake up the next morning, they’re gone. No note, no flowers; nothing! However, I heard the last woman tip-toe out of my cave, just before sunrise. I went after her, and she ran off like a deer, leaping over a bush. And then I had a revelation: She just had the most incredible night of her life. I’m a life-changing experience, and that’s all she needs. One night with a Sasquatch, and she’s a totally different woman after that. Forever.
Although I used to feel sad, and even cry a little, I realize now it’s for the best those women never stayed because I know what would happen if they did. If a woman stayed in my cave, and got to know me personally, I would satisfy her so completely, physically and emotionally, she would never leave. And that would be a problem for a whole bunch of reasons: A human woman can’t survive on her own in the wilds of nature. She’d be dependent on me for everything. Then, she’d try and make me more human like she is, and I need a woman to accept me as I am: a big, hairy, powerful beast. Lastly, her friends and family would come looking for her, and that would put me in danger, especially if they have guns.
Realizing these things, I’ve come to a resolution: I’m not going to haul anymore women back to my cave. What I need is an independent Sasquatch woman, one who can find her own food, and fight off a Grizzly bear or a pack of wolves when I’m not around. She’s out there somewhere, and I’m going to find her. Today, I’m saying goodbye to my cave, and if I have to search every forest in North America to find my female Bigfoot, I will. Something in my heart tells me that she’s looking for me too.