This week over at The Collective, they’re all doing book reviews, so I figured I’d join in and have some fun. It took me a while to decide what book I was going to review because I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be funny or serious. But also if I decided I wanted to be funny, being funny about books you like is really hard and I haven’t read a bad book in a while (at least one I that’s important enough to write about). And then the perfect book fell into my lap. No, really, it did. I was sitting on the floor organizing my new bookshelf and I knocked over a whole stack of books. Plop. Right in the old lap. I think you guys are in for some good times with this one.

Bigfoot: I Not Dead
By Graham Roumieu

This is possibly the funniest book I’ve ever read. You should probably read it, too, if you think one or more of the following things are funny: poop, death, bad grammar, big stupid animals, violence, blood, anger and despair, Bigfoot, jokes about sex and prostitution, badly written poems, social commentary, and other things that are offensive.

The entire book basically consists of Bigfoot telling us the true story (in his real handwriting) about his life and existence, because apparently the real story has been mangled by the press and other agents of fame and fortune, of whom Bigfoot tells us “Might give free muffin or gum but whole time they just want screw you. They no pay you. They take pure artistic vision and floss greedy corporate ass with it.” You may think you know about Bigfoot, but he delights in telling us things we might not have ever known otherwise, like the true stories behind all the woodland creatures (Bernard the Beaver: total Al Quaeda sleeper agent), his troubles in romancing the ladies (“Tell me you fart in hand, and I yours forever, sexy.”), the perils of fame, and how much he misses the good old days:

“Woods used be about survival of fittest. Kill or be kill, best days of Bigfoot life. Smash all day, sleep like baby at night. Now everybody go all soft. Violence not ‘cool.’ Now all about compassion and reason and understanding. Used to be Bigfoot smash hiker with rock and later that night share smash anecdote on Carson. Now everybody hold candlelight vigil for hiker and newspaper call me vulgar outdated animal and people say awful thing about me on internet. It hurt Bigfoot feeling, make cry, and want kill all of you.”

Bigfoot also gives us lots of helpful advice, like how to turn tricks on the street for money (Sit $1.50. Sit/Stay $18.00. Arson $14.00), how to stay on the sunny side of life (“Eat lice before eat you.”), writing wills (“Secret tomb only cool if people know it exist somewhere and die trying to find.”), and saving the environment (“Roll up dead sweat skin behind ear and enjoy as delicious cheese substitute. My ear make havarti. What ear cheese you be?”). He even answers fan mail:

“Q: Bigfoot, when my guinea pig wake up? Parents say he sleeping in box in ground in back garden.
Suzie, Age 9, Toronto, Canada

A: Actually, Suzie, guinea pig dead and Bigfoot already dig up and eat. If want back Bigfoot probably poop out bones and fur in day or so. Very delicious, raise him right, he taste like love.”

The most charming thing about Bigfoot’s third memoir (the first was In Me Own Words: The Autobiography of Bigfoot, the second Me Write Book: It Bigfoot Memoir) is the illustrations. How can you not fall in love with this face?

Another don’t miss is his handwriting. You can’t help but feel a special connection to this stinky pervert when you see the love and compassion he puts into forming his letters:

On top of all of this, he’s also a pretty heart-warming guy:

"Wonder what point in trying? Why Bigfoot go on? And then I remember. It totally crystal clear. Me totally look awesome on camera."

In short, read this book, but maybe you’ll want to have with you either a trash can or some tissues, depending on what sort of reflexes you possess. Also, if you want to be a really cool stalker like me, you can friend the author on Goodreads. He’s pretty silly, though.