Graham Roumieu | Me Write Book: It Bigfoot Memoir

Who knew Bigfoot was so eloquent? Or angry? Or hilarious? The big guy has had his share of ups and downs.


(Plume; 96 pgs; $15)

Littering “make Bigfoot angry like Henry Rollins.” An experiment with steroids once made Bigfoot “fly into rage. Destroy Ponderosa restaurant.” It seems that hunters rile our favorite cryptohominid, too. “I attract lots poachers,” he says. “Apparently me gall bladder give Chinese people boners.”

Who knew Bigfoot was so eloquent? Or angry? Or hilarious? The big guy has had his share of ups and downs. When he was really hot, in the Bigfoot-huntin’ ’70s, the other forest animals became so jealous they hung a sign from a tree: “Bigfoot Pees Bed.” Bigfoot promptly camped out under it with a sign of his own: “No Pee Bed!”

Good grief. Graham Roumieu, a commercial illustrator with a wicked sense of humor (check out, has collected Bigfoot’s musings for a sequel to 2003’s hilarious In Me Own Words: The Autobiography of Bigfoot. His arch pen-and-watercolor illustrations, paired with witty dispatches from a certain hairy cultural observer, are a knockout.

The nadir of Bigfoot’s journey featured excesses of self-destruction no human could hope to entertain. At his lowest, he lolled in a hotel swimming pool, still clothed in a filthy tuxedo, emptying bottles of booze into his maw while the naked floozy perched on his shoulders shot an Uzi into the air in glee. At least then, he had money. Years later, desperate for the attention that had come and gone, he made an appearance at a talent show in the forest. A beaver was enlisted to pull Bigfoot’s finger while a squirrel held a lit match behind the monster’s potent sphincter. The result: one less squirrel.

And those sorts of tragedies have given Bigfoot pause. Made him slow down. Take stock. “I just sitting by fire thinking how burning ember so much like fleeting passion of this crazy thing call life,” he writes in Pidgin English. If only he could “smash away sadness” and “tear low self-esteem a new A-hole,” things might be different. Imagine an existentially depressed Cookie Monster. Bigger. Browner. Comfortable with murder. You’re almost there.

This deranged effort wouldn’t click without Roumieu’s hilariously expressive drawings. Bigfoot is enraged and then quixotic, sheepish and then covered in the blood of his rivals. His lumpen bulk takes on any number of attitudes.

Maybe he’s a little like the Loch Ness Monster. Nessie, we learn, has her moods, too. She wrote the book’s introduction, in which she talks about her own withdrawal from the public. She’s spent the last few decades, she admits, just laying low and listening to Brian Wilson’s later albums.

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