Stomp Bigfoot is in the lab...

Pastry fiend. Bonker of evil men. Kindhearted soul.

Remember that Jurassic Park scene where the ignorant enraptured lab scientist is coaxing open a dinosaur egg, and Sam Neill gets all googly-eyed because it's a raptor egg?

That’s where I’m at with Stomp Bigfoot right now.

I’m working to familiarize myself with the format, the layout - all that. But I wanted to create a real post because soon I’ll be searching for you, other Substack creators, and I want to collaborate. By collaborate I mean, bark at each other like two park dogs then hesitantly sniff each other’s work before shyly wandering back to master.

Anyway, here’s what’s coming:

Stomp is 280-years-old - he’s seen some things. Oh, you thought Paul Revere made that revolutionary ride? Nope. Paul Revere passed out and peed his breeches - that British tattling-on was all Stomp. The bodyguard by Abe Lincoln’s theatre booth that fateful night? Unfortunately, Stomp Bigfoot (he got distracted by pie). The rumor that a 500-pound he-squatch fought 7 sewer gators in a drainpipe speakeasy under Brooklyn in 1932?

It wasn’t a rumor.

Thank you for your support in advance.

I’m doing the same thing Stomp has been for three centuries:

hoping to build community and share a piece of myself with you.