I set out this morning from my crib in the Cascade mountains to the HIGH TIMES Cannabis Cup in Seattle. I figured, shit, if weed is legal, then maybe it’s time to “come out” as they say. For years people have been chasing me around, and I keep running -- mostly ‘cuz I’m always carrying weed. Fat sacks. Sasquatch don’t roll no pinners. And cops, they can all kiss my hairy Yeti ass. Bigfoot doesn’t do jail, you know? So I just live the simple life in the woods. I’m no different from anyone else. I want what most folks want -- to smoke my herb, eat a squirrel and call it a night. Maybe get laid by a bear or a deer or something if I’m feeling romantic-like.

News travels slow up in the mountains. The other day I thought I saw two Sasquatches walking in the woods. Turns out it was just a couple hippies. When they saw me they started shouting, “It’s him! It’s him!” like I was fucking Elvis or something. “Bigfoot! Bigfoot!” I told them to chill the fuck out, that I dig my privacy, and don’t need no one broadcasting my name in these woods which are filled with gun-toting yahoos who would just love to drive up to their local bar with a sasquatch tied to the hood. Humans… they’re more trouble than they’re worth sometimes.

Finally the hippies pulled out a bag of Kush and we started blazing. Then they started telling me what a special moment this was for them, how they felt one with nature and the environment, basically boring the shit out of me. Finally I said, “Man, I AM the environment, I AM nature and you ain’t one with me ‘cuz I just met you, dig?”

So we got our smoke on and they start telling me that pot was legal now. I said, “Dude, don’t go tickling my prostate with some bullshit about pot being legal, ‘cuz I’ll rip your heart out and eat it like it was an apple.” But they swore on Jerry Garcia’s grave that it was the truth. Pot is legal. It was like someone slapped me upside the head with a 50-pound salmon. They talked about something called Cannabis Cup and I was like, “I thought a cup was something a goalie wears to protect his nuts.” They looked at me like I was a talking deer turd and I started laughing. We got sarcasm here in the woods, too, you know?

So anyway, the whole time I’m talking to these dudes, I’m trying to decide whether or not I should eat them. I like people if they’re cooked right, and I can make a mean Vietnamese-style human pho. I let them go, though, ‘cuz hippies are a little gamey. I prefer beer-fattened hunters. That shit’s sweet.

That night I got to thinking, if pot’s legal, then maybe I don’t have to hide no more, you know? It gets lonely in the mountains and I kind of liked the idea of blazing fee and easy without some Kojak cop getting in my face. I decided then and there I was going to check this Cannabis Cup shit out and show you homo sapien lightweights how to get your freak on Yeti-style. So look out for me people, ‘cuz I’m coming to the party and I’m gonna supersize that bitch.