Hi, everybody–it’s me, the Cardiff Giant.
Y’know, they like to say I was one of the great hoaxes of the 19th century. I sort of resent that. I mean, who likes to be called a hoax?
I’m so tired of being called a hoax, I’ve decided it’s finally time to tell the truth!
Forget everything you ever heard about me. It’s all bunk.
The amazing truth is, the Russians dug me up and then secretly planted me in New York State for someone else to dig up and say I was a petrified human being from way back before the Flood. You want to know where the Russians dug me up? Well, they never told me. You’d have to ask some guy named Putin.
Why did they plant me in New York State, on somebody’s farm? I’ll tell you: for no other reason than to–oh, doggone it! Would you believe it? I forgot! That’s what happens when you just lie around doing nothing for years and years at a stretch: your brain goes kind of funny.
All right, I’ll be back when I remember what it is that I was going to tell you. And don’t forget to drop in and say hello whenever you pass through wherever I’m on display, these days. I’ve quite lost track of my location…