By Ted Colin
Every year since 2009 there has been a big "Eve of New Years Eve" celebration in down town Pine Nuts City Michigan. The celebration of the coming of the New Year is held the day before New Years Eve since everyone in Pine Nuts City will travel to a real city to celebrate the elaborate festivities that areas with a better tax base can afford. In addition to a low tax base, Pine Nuts City does not have any stores or churches or clubs that can help organize and pay for really elaborate festivities.
Although Pine Nuts City lacks the finances for an elaborate celebration of the new year the 14 and 2/3 residents of the small town (the 2/3 is the child that Randy and Heather are expecting), make up for their stark lack of funds with a spirit of heart that cannot be measured in the number of fancy balls being droped or fireworks or fancy musical artists.
The Eve of New Years Eve celebration begins with the entire population of the town gathering around one of the large red pine tries that are up on the hill behind the mayor’s house. Once the residents are assembled around one of the pre-chosen trees the town’s people hold hands and sing the old spiritual song from the 1939 Wizard of Oz movie “Ding, Dong the witch is dead…”
Once the musical part of the program is completed and the clock strikes midnight the Mayor takes out his twenty inch chain saw. The chainsaw the mayor uses has been in his family since his son bought it for him two years ago at a garage sale.
The town crowd is very quiet as they look on as the mayor proceeds to cut the mighty red pine down. The height of the red pine trees on the hill average about 100 feet and the average circumference is approximately 3 ½ feet. It is always fun to watch people scurry out of the way just in time as the tree smashes into the snow. In 2009 there were 18 residents participating in the tree drop but because four of them were not paying close attention to the monster tree as it fell, there are just the 14 residents now with of course the expected child coming along in about another three months.
After the cutting down of the mighty red pine the towns people meander down the hill behind the mayor’s house and reassemble at the crossroads of the main street and M-72. The only local business owner is a big bald hairy armed man named Burly. Burly owns a junk yard and gets old wrecked cars and other items made from metal ready to ship overseas. On the Eve before New Years Eve Burly will pile several of his wrecked vehicles in the center of the highway M-72 and Main Street crossroads and set them on fire. All the plastics and rubber tires in the vehicles serve to make an awesome fire that really lights up the town and can be seen for miles away by cars and trucks traveling down M-72. The roaring fire and the smells given off by the melting plastics and the rubber tires makes everyone very giddy and light headed with joy.
Pine Nuts City is a small town in the backwoods of Michigan but, it is steeped in tradition including their famous" Eve of New Years Eve" Celebration.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
HOW THE FRANKENMOOSE MONSTER SAVED CHRISTMAS
By Bob White
I have been following the legendary Frankenmoose, the one created by Dr. Stein Franken currently of Suttons Bay Michigan and formerly of Frankenmuth Michigan. It is said that Dr. Franken created his creature after a circus truck hit a moose just outside of Frankenmuth Michigan. The circus truck had a human driver and a full-grown Siberian tiger in the back. Dr. Franken could only find enough living tissue from the three victims to put together a single creature. The creature was part tiger, part moose and, part human. Although there are, other creatures called Frankenmoose this creature was in part named after its creator, Dr. Stein Franken.
Because Dr. Franken had created this monster in an area not zoned for creating monsters, he had to keep its existence a secret. Dr. Franken and his family nursed the creature back to health and the Frankenmoose eventually became one of the family. Everything went well until the Frankenmoose was burned on the behind by the family bratwurst grill. The fire and the burning sensation it caused, seemed to make the creature go mad. It went on a rampage of destruction all across the state. Finally, the Men in Dark Suits (MIDS) were able to trap the beast and send it off to a secret underground military base located beneath the sand dunes in Leelanau County Michigan.
The Frankenmoose had the wiles of a tiger, the intelligence of a human and the strength of a moose so; it was not long before the creature escaped the maximum-security base. After his escape, the Frankenmoose knew he would have to find work. He read the local papers and found an advertisement for a four-legged animal that could work hauling logs for an environmentally friendly logging company. It seems the company had a horse but the horse became old and had to be retired to the Grand Rapids Glue Factory and Retirement Home for Horses.
The Frankenmoose easily convinced the owners of the lumber company that he would be an effective animal employee who could carry several times his weight up a steep hill. On the day before Christmas, there was a terrible winter storm. The Frankenmoose was happily hauling large red pine logs up hill to an awaiting truck when suddenly a snowmobile smashed into the truck and an old white bearded man went flying through the air and landed on top of the left antler of the Frankenmoose. “Ouch,” went the old man as he rolled off the antler of the Frankenmoose and feel into the hard packed snow.
The truck driver, who was also the owner of the lumber company, jumped out of his truck cab and ran over to where the old man laid. “Are you hurt old timer?” the lumberjack asked.
“I’m fine,” the old man replied, “but, I’ve got to get to the toy factory in Mancelona and pick up some toys and take them to the orphanage in Kalkaska. I make this trip every year.”
The old man struggled to his feet, got on top of his snowmobile, and tried to start it. The engine would not even turn over. “Phooey Sticks,” the old man cursed, “I’m not going no where with this machine.”
The Monster had been listening to every word and had an idea. The great beast suddenly started burping and snorting in what seemed to be very chaotic patterns. Nonetheless, the lumberjack and the hold man listened intently. “The creature is signaling in Morris code!” exclaimed the old man.
“I know,” retorted the truck driver, “this creature is part human and the human part was in the navy just like I was. Morris code is how the creature communicates. I think he is saying that he will pull you and your snowmobile to the toy factory and back to the orphanage in Kalkaska.”
With the help of the lumberjack, the Frankenmoose was soon harnessed up to the snowmobile and running along the highway on his way to the little town of Mancelona. It was not more than an hour before the colored Christmas lights of Mancelona could be seen flickering in the distance. Then, just about a mile before the Frankenmoose got to town; a large ogre stepped out onto the snowmobile trail and blocked the only passage to town. The Frankenmoose stopped. “Oh no,” said the old man to the moose. “It is the nasty Pinecone Ogre. He eats pinecones all day and then his stomach gets so upset that he becomes mean and tries to ruin everyone’s day.”
The Frankenmoose was undaunted. He simply bent his head down and hurled himself with the snowmobile in tow, directly toward the Ogre. The Ogre would not move but simply growled and howled at the oncoming monster. The bad natured Ogre was no match for the Frankenmoose for the big rack of the monster caught up the Ogre and the Ogre was soon flying high to the other side of the county.
The Frankenmoose and the old man were soon sledding through the Christmas decorated village of Mancelona. Colored lights and ding-dong bells were all along both sides of the street. When they came up to an old abandoned and boarded up cheese factory, the old man said ‘Whoa,’ and the Frankenmoose came to a stop. The old man whistled and an overhead garage door at one end of the building slid up and the Frankenmoose hauled the old man and his busted sled inside. Inside the old building was a well-lit modern toy factory with hundreds of tiny persons dressed up like Christmas elves, working diligently packaging and wrapping thousands of toys.
The Frankenmoose was so captivated by the toy factory that he could not grunt or belch out a single word. In the mean time, the old man had disappeared into an office and reappeared dressed as Santa Claus. “Ho, Ho, Ho,” said the old man. “I bet you are wondering what is going on my monster friend,” the old man said to the Frankenmoose. “You’ve probably guessed that I am really Santa but, no doubt you are wondering why I don’t have my regular sleigh and reindeer and also why am I making toys down here in Northern Michigan? Well, I do not have my reindeer here because so many people shoot deer for food here in Northern Michigan so, I left my friends down state where they would not be injured. I set up a factory here because elves are willing to work more cheaply here in Mancelona then they are up in the Artic Circle. It is nice here with all the lakes, beaches, and fun things to do. In addition, by saving money on wages I can put more money into making toys for the little girls and boys.
The Frankenmoose was glad he had helped the old man and was happier still when they delivered the toys to the orphanage and the monster saw the happy faces of the little boys and girls. The Frankenmoose had made a friend in old Santa Claus and had helped bring a little joy into the lives of orphans. The Frankenmoose had saved Christmas for all the little children at the orphanage. He did not feel like a monster that night but instead, felt like a hero and even a little bit human.
I have been following the legendary Frankenmoose, the one created by Dr. Stein Franken currently of Suttons Bay Michigan and formerly of Frankenmuth Michigan. It is said that Dr. Franken created his creature after a circus truck hit a moose just outside of Frankenmuth Michigan. The circus truck had a human driver and a full-grown Siberian tiger in the back. Dr. Franken could only find enough living tissue from the three victims to put together a single creature. The creature was part tiger, part moose and, part human. Although there are, other creatures called Frankenmoose this creature was in part named after its creator, Dr. Stein Franken.
Because Dr. Franken had created this monster in an area not zoned for creating monsters, he had to keep its existence a secret. Dr. Franken and his family nursed the creature back to health and the Frankenmoose eventually became one of the family. Everything went well until the Frankenmoose was burned on the behind by the family bratwurst grill. The fire and the burning sensation it caused, seemed to make the creature go mad. It went on a rampage of destruction all across the state. Finally, the Men in Dark Suits (MIDS) were able to trap the beast and send it off to a secret underground military base located beneath the sand dunes in Leelanau County Michigan.
The Frankenmoose had the wiles of a tiger, the intelligence of a human and the strength of a moose so; it was not long before the creature escaped the maximum-security base. After his escape, the Frankenmoose knew he would have to find work. He read the local papers and found an advertisement for a four-legged animal that could work hauling logs for an environmentally friendly logging company. It seems the company had a horse but the horse became old and had to be retired to the Grand Rapids Glue Factory and Retirement Home for Horses.
The Frankenmoose easily convinced the owners of the lumber company that he would be an effective animal employee who could carry several times his weight up a steep hill. On the day before Christmas, there was a terrible winter storm. The Frankenmoose was happily hauling large red pine logs up hill to an awaiting truck when suddenly a snowmobile smashed into the truck and an old white bearded man went flying through the air and landed on top of the left antler of the Frankenmoose. “Ouch,” went the old man as he rolled off the antler of the Frankenmoose and feel into the hard packed snow.
The truck driver, who was also the owner of the lumber company, jumped out of his truck cab and ran over to where the old man laid. “Are you hurt old timer?” the lumberjack asked.
“I’m fine,” the old man replied, “but, I’ve got to get to the toy factory in Mancelona and pick up some toys and take them to the orphanage in Kalkaska. I make this trip every year.”
The old man struggled to his feet, got on top of his snowmobile, and tried to start it. The engine would not even turn over. “Phooey Sticks,” the old man cursed, “I’m not going no where with this machine.”
The Monster had been listening to every word and had an idea. The great beast suddenly started burping and snorting in what seemed to be very chaotic patterns. Nonetheless, the lumberjack and the hold man listened intently. “The creature is signaling in Morris code!” exclaimed the old man.
“I know,” retorted the truck driver, “this creature is part human and the human part was in the navy just like I was. Morris code is how the creature communicates. I think he is saying that he will pull you and your snowmobile to the toy factory and back to the orphanage in Kalkaska.”
With the help of the lumberjack, the Frankenmoose was soon harnessed up to the snowmobile and running along the highway on his way to the little town of Mancelona. It was not more than an hour before the colored Christmas lights of Mancelona could be seen flickering in the distance. Then, just about a mile before the Frankenmoose got to town; a large ogre stepped out onto the snowmobile trail and blocked the only passage to town. The Frankenmoose stopped. “Oh no,” said the old man to the moose. “It is the nasty Pinecone Ogre. He eats pinecones all day and then his stomach gets so upset that he becomes mean and tries to ruin everyone’s day.”
The Frankenmoose was undaunted. He simply bent his head down and hurled himself with the snowmobile in tow, directly toward the Ogre. The Ogre would not move but simply growled and howled at the oncoming monster. The bad natured Ogre was no match for the Frankenmoose for the big rack of the monster caught up the Ogre and the Ogre was soon flying high to the other side of the county.
The Frankenmoose and the old man were soon sledding through the Christmas decorated village of Mancelona. Colored lights and ding-dong bells were all along both sides of the street. When they came up to an old abandoned and boarded up cheese factory, the old man said ‘Whoa,’ and the Frankenmoose came to a stop. The old man whistled and an overhead garage door at one end of the building slid up and the Frankenmoose hauled the old man and his busted sled inside. Inside the old building was a well-lit modern toy factory with hundreds of tiny persons dressed up like Christmas elves, working diligently packaging and wrapping thousands of toys.
The Frankenmoose was so captivated by the toy factory that he could not grunt or belch out a single word. In the mean time, the old man had disappeared into an office and reappeared dressed as Santa Claus. “Ho, Ho, Ho,” said the old man. “I bet you are wondering what is going on my monster friend,” the old man said to the Frankenmoose. “You’ve probably guessed that I am really Santa but, no doubt you are wondering why I don’t have my regular sleigh and reindeer and also why am I making toys down here in Northern Michigan? Well, I do not have my reindeer here because so many people shoot deer for food here in Northern Michigan so, I left my friends down state where they would not be injured. I set up a factory here because elves are willing to work more cheaply here in Mancelona then they are up in the Artic Circle. It is nice here with all the lakes, beaches, and fun things to do. In addition, by saving money on wages I can put more money into making toys for the little girls and boys.
The Frankenmoose was glad he had helped the old man and was happier still when they delivered the toys to the orphanage and the monster saw the happy faces of the little boys and girls. The Frankenmoose had made a friend in old Santa Claus and had helped bring a little joy into the lives of orphans. The Frankenmoose had saved Christmas for all the little children at the orphanage. He did not feel like a monster that night but instead, felt like a hero and even a little bit human.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
A STONE AGE TOY AND TOOL COMPANY
By Tim Colin
Editor
Last week I went to a manufacturing company that is really rocking in these tough economic times. The name of the company is the Rock Crackers Toy and Tool Company. The company is located in the little town of Rock Crackers. Rock Crackers is located right on top of a hill which is almost completely made up of flint rock.
I met with Mr. Rock Crackers who is the president of the company and learned a lot about rock cracking and how important rocks will be to our new green economy. Mr. Crackers told me that flint is the stone that has been used by humans for millions of years to make tools, toys and various types of ornaments and even as a building material. The first spaceships sent into low Earth orbit were actually carved out of various forms of stones including flint. A large flint rock was actually used to ignite the gun powder that propelled the first spaceships upward into outer space. Of course today our space program uses a chemical rocket propulsion system consisting of a mixture of baking soda and apple cider vinegar.
Mr. Crackers went on to say that “…demand for our tools has never been greater since Americans can no longer afford fancy tools and toys made overseas. Iron, aluminum, copper, zinc and every other rare earth element are being sent overseas where the economies are booming. Shoot, even our sewage is being sent overseas to make fertilizer. In America we have almost nothing left to use but, we have lots of rocks. Flint has always been one of the best rocks to make stuff out of so that’s why I built my factory here.”
After his brief combination tirade and advertisement, Mr. Crackers took on a tour of his plant. Although the Rock Crackers plant makes primitive tools it is nearly fully automated with all types of rock cracking machines made out of rocks. It seems in order to crack a rock you just need to hit it with a sharper and/ or heavier rock. This is known as the Negative Law of Thermo Dynamics, “Stuff gets smaller if you hit it long enough”. I guess that’s why my younger brother is such a little wimp. Of course he always told mom and dad that his older brother’s were picking on him by cuffing and slapping him but, they just told us to “stop it“. Who listens to their parents when they say the words “stop it”?
The kind of stuff being manufactured in the factory were tools likes hoes, rakes, shovels, wheelbarrows hammers, screw drivers and snow blowers. These were all the types of tools our ancestors must have manufactured for millions of years or until they invented wood. After they used wood tools for a few thousand years then humans started to use metal.
Most of the scientists that I talk to believe that making metal was not discovered by humans but was taught to humans by space aliens. Of course the last time space aliens were here they taught humans how to make plastic for plastic bags. Space aliens needed plastic bags to freeze fresh humans for long space flights. That way the humans would still be good to munch on back on the alien home world. Evidently, according to my sources of information, space aliens tried canning humans to take home but, it was tough to find enough mason jars and even if the aliens had enough jars it was really hard to find enough lids that fit. The aliens used mostly old mayonnaise jars and the lids are really wide and hard to come by. Plastic bags were just a lot more convenient and the main ingredient was oil and that is really plentiful here on earth. So, that is why space aliens taught humans how to make plastic.
Now the types of toys manufactured at Rock Crackers are baby rattles, baseballs, tetherballs, footballs, softballs and any other type of ball you can kick, hit or, bat. Rock Crackers is currently working to develop a line of water toys but so far none of their ideas have floated with tests groups. The water board Rock Crackers developed turned out to be a better anchor than a device to skim behind a watercraft. A line of water safety items has also not done well in tests. The life preserver tests are ongoing since it has been over a year and none of the test subjects have surfaced with any data.
Overall, I learned a lot about human history and the latest techniques used by American manufactures who are anxious to be competitive in this new world economy. Cracking rocks, gathering nuts and, making dung flavored gasses are things we Americans do better than anyone else in the world.
Editor
Last week I went to a manufacturing company that is really rocking in these tough economic times. The name of the company is the Rock Crackers Toy and Tool Company. The company is located in the little town of Rock Crackers. Rock Crackers is located right on top of a hill which is almost completely made up of flint rock.
I met with Mr. Rock Crackers who is the president of the company and learned a lot about rock cracking and how important rocks will be to our new green economy. Mr. Crackers told me that flint is the stone that has been used by humans for millions of years to make tools, toys and various types of ornaments and even as a building material. The first spaceships sent into low Earth orbit were actually carved out of various forms of stones including flint. A large flint rock was actually used to ignite the gun powder that propelled the first spaceships upward into outer space. Of course today our space program uses a chemical rocket propulsion system consisting of a mixture of baking soda and apple cider vinegar.
Mr. Crackers went on to say that “…demand for our tools has never been greater since Americans can no longer afford fancy tools and toys made overseas. Iron, aluminum, copper, zinc and every other rare earth element are being sent overseas where the economies are booming. Shoot, even our sewage is being sent overseas to make fertilizer. In America we have almost nothing left to use but, we have lots of rocks. Flint has always been one of the best rocks to make stuff out of so that’s why I built my factory here.”
After his brief combination tirade and advertisement, Mr. Crackers took on a tour of his plant. Although the Rock Crackers plant makes primitive tools it is nearly fully automated with all types of rock cracking machines made out of rocks. It seems in order to crack a rock you just need to hit it with a sharper and/ or heavier rock. This is known as the Negative Law of Thermo Dynamics, “Stuff gets smaller if you hit it long enough”. I guess that’s why my younger brother is such a little wimp. Of course he always told mom and dad that his older brother’s were picking on him by cuffing and slapping him but, they just told us to “stop it“. Who listens to their parents when they say the words “stop it”?
The kind of stuff being manufactured in the factory were tools likes hoes, rakes, shovels, wheelbarrows hammers, screw drivers and snow blowers. These were all the types of tools our ancestors must have manufactured for millions of years or until they invented wood. After they used wood tools for a few thousand years then humans started to use metal.
Most of the scientists that I talk to believe that making metal was not discovered by humans but was taught to humans by space aliens. Of course the last time space aliens were here they taught humans how to make plastic for plastic bags. Space aliens needed plastic bags to freeze fresh humans for long space flights. That way the humans would still be good to munch on back on the alien home world. Evidently, according to my sources of information, space aliens tried canning humans to take home but, it was tough to find enough mason jars and even if the aliens had enough jars it was really hard to find enough lids that fit. The aliens used mostly old mayonnaise jars and the lids are really wide and hard to come by. Plastic bags were just a lot more convenient and the main ingredient was oil and that is really plentiful here on earth. So, that is why space aliens taught humans how to make plastic.
Now the types of toys manufactured at Rock Crackers are baby rattles, baseballs, tetherballs, footballs, softballs and any other type of ball you can kick, hit or, bat. Rock Crackers is currently working to develop a line of water toys but so far none of their ideas have floated with tests groups. The water board Rock Crackers developed turned out to be a better anchor than a device to skim behind a watercraft. A line of water safety items has also not done well in tests. The life preserver tests are ongoing since it has been over a year and none of the test subjects have surfaced with any data.
Overall, I learned a lot about human history and the latest techniques used by American manufactures who are anxious to be competitive in this new world economy. Cracking rocks, gathering nuts and, making dung flavored gasses are things we Americans do better than anyone else in the world.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
LAKE MICHIGAN IS LEAKING
By Tim Colin
Last summer I decided to go over to the town on Frankfort which is located on Lake Michigan. The problem is that when I got to Lake Michigan I found that it was almost gone. Lake Michigan had been reduced to just a hole that was less than a hundred yards across. I could see Utah. If I could get a valid Visa I would have swam over there to see my Mormon cousins. I love to travel to foreign countries.
Looking at Lake Michigan I could tell something was wrong. I have a scientific background (I took a geosciences class in 10Th grade). I kept looking at looking at Lake Michigan and it suddenly struck me that if this great lake had almost no water left in it then, the question should be “where did all the water go?’.
I started to remember that there was some guy named Al Gorekon, or Gornon or Gorman or something who said that the world was getting warmer. I wondered if maybe the world had gotten so warm that the water had boiled away out of Lake Michigan. All this thinking was giving me a real headache. After all, I only wanted to go fishing that day so, I decided to head over to the nearest pizza/bar and eat/drink my headache away.
After about a half hour at the pizza/bar, I started to feel comfortable talking to the strangers who sat around me. I said that it looks like Lake Michigan is boiling away. Two people got up and left the bar. The bartender then told me that if I didn’t shut up about global warming he’d kick my commie ass out the door. I decided to move to a private table. I ordered a pitcher of beer and went over to a table that was in a remote corner of the bar/pizza establishment.
I did not sit there for long before a scruffy, bearded old guy from the bar came over to my table and sat down with his mug of beer. I immediately thought that this guy is either gay or he wants me to share my pitcher of beer with him. In either case the answer would be “no”. The bearded, weirdo then said to me that he knew where there was a secret hole. He said I needed to come with him and he would show it to me.
“Now why would I want to go see your hole? I asked.
“Because I’m telling you I’m a scientist. I know why Lake Michigan is drying up.”
After I finished off my pitcher of beer I was pretty much game for anything so, I agreed to go and look at the scruffy mans old hole. I told him that looking was all I would do. I was emphatic that I would never climb down into it. I said that ever since I was a teenager I was very afraid of cold, dark places.
The old guy and I walked down to Lake Michigan. True to his word he showed me this deep hole which seemed to be sucking everything into it. I was truly amazed. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. Lake Michigan was gurgling down into an abyss. It was not global warming that was destroying Lake Michigan. Instead, it was some sort of large hole that seemed to be sucking Lake Michigan water into some sort of alternate dimension. But, where is the water ending up. If I had my brother with me I would have sent him into the hole to find out. For now, it must remain a great mystery. The water might be flowing into an alternate universe or, it might be getting sucked up by the bottled water plant down the road.
Last summer I decided to go over to the town on Frankfort which is located on Lake Michigan. The problem is that when I got to Lake Michigan I found that it was almost gone. Lake Michigan had been reduced to just a hole that was less than a hundred yards across. I could see Utah. If I could get a valid Visa I would have swam over there to see my Mormon cousins. I love to travel to foreign countries.
Looking at Lake Michigan I could tell something was wrong. I have a scientific background (I took a geosciences class in 10Th grade). I kept looking at looking at Lake Michigan and it suddenly struck me that if this great lake had almost no water left in it then, the question should be “where did all the water go?’.
I started to remember that there was some guy named Al Gorekon, or Gornon or Gorman or something who said that the world was getting warmer. I wondered if maybe the world had gotten so warm that the water had boiled away out of Lake Michigan. All this thinking was giving me a real headache. After all, I only wanted to go fishing that day so, I decided to head over to the nearest pizza/bar and eat/drink my headache away.
After about a half hour at the pizza/bar, I started to feel comfortable talking to the strangers who sat around me. I said that it looks like Lake Michigan is boiling away. Two people got up and left the bar. The bartender then told me that if I didn’t shut up about global warming he’d kick my commie ass out the door. I decided to move to a private table. I ordered a pitcher of beer and went over to a table that was in a remote corner of the bar/pizza establishment.
I did not sit there for long before a scruffy, bearded old guy from the bar came over to my table and sat down with his mug of beer. I immediately thought that this guy is either gay or he wants me to share my pitcher of beer with him. In either case the answer would be “no”. The bearded, weirdo then said to me that he knew where there was a secret hole. He said I needed to come with him and he would show it to me.
“Now why would I want to go see your hole? I asked.
“Because I’m telling you I’m a scientist. I know why Lake Michigan is drying up.”
After I finished off my pitcher of beer I was pretty much game for anything so, I agreed to go and look at the scruffy mans old hole. I told him that looking was all I would do. I was emphatic that I would never climb down into it. I said that ever since I was a teenager I was very afraid of cold, dark places.
The old guy and I walked down to Lake Michigan. True to his word he showed me this deep hole which seemed to be sucking everything into it. I was truly amazed. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. Lake Michigan was gurgling down into an abyss. It was not global warming that was destroying Lake Michigan. Instead, it was some sort of large hole that seemed to be sucking Lake Michigan water into some sort of alternate dimension. But, where is the water ending up. If I had my brother with me I would have sent him into the hole to find out. For now, it must remain a great mystery. The water might be flowing into an alternate universe or, it might be getting sucked up by the bottled water plant down the road.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
BACKWOODS KNERDS (NERDS)
By Mike Colin
Everyone knows what a nerd is. In cities and towns nerds are those whiz kids that are great with math and science and often times go on to become engineers and teachers. I never worried about being called a nerd although once when I was in high school I did have to sit at the nerd table at lunch time. All the nerds seemed to want to talk about was how they had solved some math equation on a calculus quiz or about some chemistry lab stuff. I didn’t understand anything they were saying. After all, I took mostly physical education classes and the only class I took where I even had to count was marching band. It’s hard to make those formations if you don’t count the right number of steps you need to make. My brother Tim got kicked out of the band because he kept ending up in the stands instead of in formation on the football field.
Now because I couldn’t really contribute to the conversation at the nerd table, I tried to change the subject to sports by showing them the scar I had on my foot from playing lawn jarts. They just told me I was really gross although they did seem to admire the webbing I have between my toes. I also showed them the gills I have at the base of my neck and I heard one of the nerds actually say the word “awesome”. I still was not accepted as one of them but after that day the nerds all called me “Fish Boy”. “Hi Fish Boy,” they would say when they passed me in the halls. Even though I still didn’t understand what they were talking about when it came to their nerdy math and science classes, I kind of felt like an honorary member of their group.
Now out in the backwoods my family has their own version of nerds. They are kids born with special talents for handling backwoods engineering projects like making lean-to’s strong enough to survive the heavy snows or, building machines that will split a tree all the way up the trunk before you cut it down.
My backwoods family calls these really smart kids knerds with a silent “k”. I think that the old timers who came up with the spelling must have been thinking of words like “knight” or “knock” when they first wrote down the word “knerd” to describe my family’s wunderkind. Of course these kids have no formal education since they are deemed too valuable by the people living in the hills, hollers and, swamps to waste their time and talents learning in the public schools. After all, everything anyone needs to know to survive in the wilds they can learn best by staying home with their folks.
My cousin Deuce was perhaps the smartest of any knerds ever born in the backwoods. His engineering prowess was especially sought after by the backwoods people since he was an expert at building stills. He could take the parts of any kind of abandoned vehicle and use them to make stills that produced the most refined and potent whisky in just a few hours. Deuce even had several genuine legal distilleries trying to sign him up to build stills for commercial production.
My cousin Deuce even invented a combination wood chipper/still. It was a marvel for all to see. The first whiskey that Deuce produced in his new invention he decided to sample himself. Deuce took a big swig of his homemade brew and said with a big smile on his face “Wow! That’s the stuff,” then he then passed out.
Deuce just celebrated his third year after inventing his wood chipper/still machine. It’s just too bad that he is still in a comma after sampling his product. He still has a big smile on his face but the doctors say he has absolutely no higher level brain activity. Deuce has been diagnosed with BDD (Brain Dead Drunk). It’s really too bad that Deuce didn’t have a little more formal education in the field of chemistry. It seems wood chips do not make very good drinking whiskey but, they sure make a really clean burning fuel for gas burning combustion engines.
Everyone knows what a nerd is. In cities and towns nerds are those whiz kids that are great with math and science and often times go on to become engineers and teachers. I never worried about being called a nerd although once when I was in high school I did have to sit at the nerd table at lunch time. All the nerds seemed to want to talk about was how they had solved some math equation on a calculus quiz or about some chemistry lab stuff. I didn’t understand anything they were saying. After all, I took mostly physical education classes and the only class I took where I even had to count was marching band. It’s hard to make those formations if you don’t count the right number of steps you need to make. My brother Tim got kicked out of the band because he kept ending up in the stands instead of in formation on the football field.
Now because I couldn’t really contribute to the conversation at the nerd table, I tried to change the subject to sports by showing them the scar I had on my foot from playing lawn jarts. They just told me I was really gross although they did seem to admire the webbing I have between my toes. I also showed them the gills I have at the base of my neck and I heard one of the nerds actually say the word “awesome”. I still was not accepted as one of them but after that day the nerds all called me “Fish Boy”. “Hi Fish Boy,” they would say when they passed me in the halls. Even though I still didn’t understand what they were talking about when it came to their nerdy math and science classes, I kind of felt like an honorary member of their group.
Now out in the backwoods my family has their own version of nerds. They are kids born with special talents for handling backwoods engineering projects like making lean-to’s strong enough to survive the heavy snows or, building machines that will split a tree all the way up the trunk before you cut it down.
My backwoods family calls these really smart kids knerds with a silent “k”. I think that the old timers who came up with the spelling must have been thinking of words like “knight” or “knock” when they first wrote down the word “knerd” to describe my family’s wunderkind. Of course these kids have no formal education since they are deemed too valuable by the people living in the hills, hollers and, swamps to waste their time and talents learning in the public schools. After all, everything anyone needs to know to survive in the wilds they can learn best by staying home with their folks.
My cousin Deuce was perhaps the smartest of any knerds ever born in the backwoods. His engineering prowess was especially sought after by the backwoods people since he was an expert at building stills. He could take the parts of any kind of abandoned vehicle and use them to make stills that produced the most refined and potent whisky in just a few hours. Deuce even had several genuine legal distilleries trying to sign him up to build stills for commercial production.
My cousin Deuce even invented a combination wood chipper/still. It was a marvel for all to see. The first whiskey that Deuce produced in his new invention he decided to sample himself. Deuce took a big swig of his homemade brew and said with a big smile on his face “Wow! That’s the stuff,” then he then passed out.
Deuce just celebrated his third year after inventing his wood chipper/still machine. It’s just too bad that he is still in a comma after sampling his product. He still has a big smile on his face but the doctors say he has absolutely no higher level brain activity. Deuce has been diagnosed with BDD (Brain Dead Drunk). It’s really too bad that Deuce didn’t have a little more formal education in the field of chemistry. It seems wood chips do not make very good drinking whiskey but, they sure make a really clean burning fuel for gas burning combustion engines.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
NORTHERN MICHIGAN INTERNATIONAL CRICKET CHAMPIONSHIP
By Ted Colin
Each year the Northern Michigan International Cricket Championship draws people from all over the world. We have people come from places as far away as Grawn, Fife Lake and, Mancelona. Many of the people who show up each year speak different languages and have very different customs. For instance, many people who attend these games can’t understand why we have pay toilets when the competition takes place in the woods. Personally, I really can’t understand the pay toilet deal myself. Especially, since the pay toilets only take $5.00 bills. I put in a $10.00 bill and I didn’t get any change back. I guess I won’t be buying any more pop from the concessions stands since it costs more for the pop going out than going in.
Well, although there are many differences between the teams and spectators at this year’s cricket event there is one overriding factor that brings everyone together: we all love watching those little critters duke it out in the ring. The main ring this year is an old hula hoop I found out behind one of the pay toilets. It looks like a car ran over it but, it is still holding together well enough to be used as the main ring. The other rings are just drawn in the sand.
Now before you can compete in a cricket match you have to find a cricket. The best way to find a cricket is to leave your front door wide open for a couple of days. Sooner or later out of all of the bugs, animals or looters that comes into your house there is bound to be at least one cricket. Of course getting a cricket into your house is just the first step in catching one.
In order to catch a cricket you have to stay up real late and get really, really tired. Then, when you turn off the lights and try to go to bed the cricket will start chirping so loud that you will rise up like a zombie from the dead but, instead of yearning to eat brains like a zombie the only thing you will yearn to do is get a hold of that cricket. Of course the cricket creature itself has the ability of a ventriloquist in that it can throw its voice to any place in the entire house. It is almost like the cricket just sits and watches you as you look all around under furniture and in closets, in the close hamper and behind the washer and dryer. Sometimes you just want to yank out the gas stove even though it has a gas line hooked to it. You are so tired and desperate for sleep you just don’t care anymore. After a while you can almost hear him laughing when he sees you about to find his hiding spot and then the cricket suddenly stops chirping. Then, you just stand there waiting for the creature to start chirping again hoping beyond all hope that you can find the little monster and get him to stop his hideous sounds so you can finally get some sleep. Of course he doesn’t start up again until you’ve turned off the lights and climbed back into bed.
Eventually, the cricket will make a mistake and you will catch him mulling around in the shower or just outside of the refrigerator. Now although the temptation to get revenge upon the cricket for keeping you up all night is strong, it is important that you keep a cool head about you and try to capture the little beast without harming it. After all, a squished bug is not going to win the cricket boxing tournament for you. And, if you accidentally rip off its forearms then he will be disqualified because the bug will no longer be able to wear the tiny boxing gloves that are mandatory in the sport of competitive cricket.
Now, once you have your cricket you have to put him through a vigorous training program which includes getting your bug to bulk up. Lots of sugar water is a good start to any weight gaining strategy whether it is for humans or bugs. Most people train their crickets to box by at first placing a tiny little mirror in front of the bug in order to get his competitive juices flowing. Then, placing live crickets with your potential champion in a confined area like a shoe box will be all you need to do to hone those talents that are the stuff that all champion bugs have pent up deep within their souls. By the time of the big match-up your bug will be in complete harmony with the universe and he will have the loving spirit of a dolly lamb. At that moment your cricket will be able to rip the exoskeleton off his competition and eat the blue-green guts out all the way up to the eyeballs.
This years champion was named “Killer Bug”. Now Killer B. was not the actual last bug left with its insides in tacked. The last bug left was Spider Snyder but Spider S. was disqualified when the officials realized the he really was a spider and therefore was not really eligible to compete against crickets. The rules might have been bent a little if Spider Snyder happened to be a grasshopper or even a fly but, spiders are not even insects; they are arachnids. The officials just decided that an arachnid fighting an insect just was not a fair fight so Killer B. won this years championship posthumously since Spider Snyder had already devoured all of Killer B’s soft tissues. Hopefully next year the officials will be more on the ball and disqualify non-species entries before they are allowed to compete in the cricket matches.
Each year the Northern Michigan International Cricket Championship draws people from all over the world. We have people come from places as far away as Grawn, Fife Lake and, Mancelona. Many of the people who show up each year speak different languages and have very different customs. For instance, many people who attend these games can’t understand why we have pay toilets when the competition takes place in the woods. Personally, I really can’t understand the pay toilet deal myself. Especially, since the pay toilets only take $5.00 bills. I put in a $10.00 bill and I didn’t get any change back. I guess I won’t be buying any more pop from the concessions stands since it costs more for the pop going out than going in.
Well, although there are many differences between the teams and spectators at this year’s cricket event there is one overriding factor that brings everyone together: we all love watching those little critters duke it out in the ring. The main ring this year is an old hula hoop I found out behind one of the pay toilets. It looks like a car ran over it but, it is still holding together well enough to be used as the main ring. The other rings are just drawn in the sand.
Now before you can compete in a cricket match you have to find a cricket. The best way to find a cricket is to leave your front door wide open for a couple of days. Sooner or later out of all of the bugs, animals or looters that comes into your house there is bound to be at least one cricket. Of course getting a cricket into your house is just the first step in catching one.
In order to catch a cricket you have to stay up real late and get really, really tired. Then, when you turn off the lights and try to go to bed the cricket will start chirping so loud that you will rise up like a zombie from the dead but, instead of yearning to eat brains like a zombie the only thing you will yearn to do is get a hold of that cricket. Of course the cricket creature itself has the ability of a ventriloquist in that it can throw its voice to any place in the entire house. It is almost like the cricket just sits and watches you as you look all around under furniture and in closets, in the close hamper and behind the washer and dryer. Sometimes you just want to yank out the gas stove even though it has a gas line hooked to it. You are so tired and desperate for sleep you just don’t care anymore. After a while you can almost hear him laughing when he sees you about to find his hiding spot and then the cricket suddenly stops chirping. Then, you just stand there waiting for the creature to start chirping again hoping beyond all hope that you can find the little monster and get him to stop his hideous sounds so you can finally get some sleep. Of course he doesn’t start up again until you’ve turned off the lights and climbed back into bed.
Eventually, the cricket will make a mistake and you will catch him mulling around in the shower or just outside of the refrigerator. Now although the temptation to get revenge upon the cricket for keeping you up all night is strong, it is important that you keep a cool head about you and try to capture the little beast without harming it. After all, a squished bug is not going to win the cricket boxing tournament for you. And, if you accidentally rip off its forearms then he will be disqualified because the bug will no longer be able to wear the tiny boxing gloves that are mandatory in the sport of competitive cricket.
Now, once you have your cricket you have to put him through a vigorous training program which includes getting your bug to bulk up. Lots of sugar water is a good start to any weight gaining strategy whether it is for humans or bugs. Most people train their crickets to box by at first placing a tiny little mirror in front of the bug in order to get his competitive juices flowing. Then, placing live crickets with your potential champion in a confined area like a shoe box will be all you need to do to hone those talents that are the stuff that all champion bugs have pent up deep within their souls. By the time of the big match-up your bug will be in complete harmony with the universe and he will have the loving spirit of a dolly lamb. At that moment your cricket will be able to rip the exoskeleton off his competition and eat the blue-green guts out all the way up to the eyeballs.
This years champion was named “Killer Bug”. Now Killer B. was not the actual last bug left with its insides in tacked. The last bug left was Spider Snyder but Spider S. was disqualified when the officials realized the he really was a spider and therefore was not really eligible to compete against crickets. The rules might have been bent a little if Spider Snyder happened to be a grasshopper or even a fly but, spiders are not even insects; they are arachnids. The officials just decided that an arachnid fighting an insect just was not a fair fight so Killer B. won this years championship posthumously since Spider Snyder had already devoured all of Killer B’s soft tissues. Hopefully next year the officials will be more on the ball and disqualify non-species entries before they are allowed to compete in the cricket matches.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
HUNTING MORNING DOVES OR, NAPALM SMELLS GOOD IN THE MORNING
By Mike Colin
The state of Michigan is a very pro-hunter state. You can hunt almost any creature imaginable and shoot them with any weapon you can find provided that you have the proper permits. Recently I decided to go hunting for morning doves. Now morning doves like to sit along gravel roads in small groups. Morning doves are a dangerous bird that attacks passersby’s with the voracity of a Big Foot monster. The only problem is that morning doves are not very big and are very hard to hit with even a shot gun shot. Of course another problem with morning doves is that because they are not so big you really need to get a mess of them at once if you are going to have them as a main course at dinner time.
I was able to solve my morning dove problems by visiting my grandpa. You see he is a collector of Viet Nam War era memorabilia. He has everything in his collection from machine guns to barrels of Agent Orange. Of course he can have all this neat stuff because he has the proper permits. My grandpa gets some of his stuff from other collectors but most of it he accumulated when he was in Viet Nam during the war. I guess he was one of those people you’d call a picker. You see he’d go around to military ammo dumps and pick out stuff he thought you could use back in the Michigan for hunting and fishing. He then sent the stuff back home through the mail. It cost my grandpa everything he earned just for postage. Just the cannon and rocket launcher he sent back was three months army pay.
Now when I went to see old grandpa he suggested that I use some land mines to hunt doves. He said the land mines he had were really sensitive. I told him that the only problem was that I intended to go hunting on state land and I wouldn’t want some hiker to get blown away. You see I was always taught to handle weapons in a responsible manner. My grandpa agreed and said that land mines might be overkill so he suggested that I use a mortar launcher. A mortar would be the perfect weapon to use against morning doves. You see not only would a mortar round eliminate several of the enemy doves at a time the doves would also be cleaned, feathers burned off and, cooked instantly. I’d have a meal ready to eat right there in the woods. My grandpa added that because doves had a reputation of being vicious if wounded the mortar would eliminate my trying to handle the nasty the little beasts up close.
Once I gout out in the woods on some state land I found a small opening in an old cedar swamp. There was an old partially graveled lumber trail road running through the center of the opening. I knew that was the perfect spot to hunt for morning doves. The next morning before daybreak I set up my mortar about 100 feet from the little opening. It wasn’t long before I spotted about a half dozen doves just sitting quietly out in the open. I dropped in my mortar round and fired. The only problem was I wasn’t use to setting the mortar cannons proper angle of projection so I overshot the morning doves by about 1000 feet.
Overshooting the doves would not have been much of a problem except that in Northern Michigan a lot of people don’t like to pay the liquor tax on whiskey so they set up their own still in the backwoods. Well, my mortar round happened to hit a still and suddenly there was a huge mushroom cloud rising up into the sky. I would have stood there looking at the mushroom cloud and all the trees that were vaporized but the shock wave knocked me to the ground and I laid there in a coma for three days.
After I got out of the hospital burn unit I decided I was not going to hunt morning doves anymore. Doves were just too difficult an animal to hunt especially when you consider the meager amount of meat on each morning dove. My soul is at peace with the nasty little dove. Instead, I can hardly wait to get some of my grandpa’s napalm to use when I go deer hunting next fall.
The state of Michigan is a very pro-hunter state. You can hunt almost any creature imaginable and shoot them with any weapon you can find provided that you have the proper permits. Recently I decided to go hunting for morning doves. Now morning doves like to sit along gravel roads in small groups. Morning doves are a dangerous bird that attacks passersby’s with the voracity of a Big Foot monster. The only problem is that morning doves are not very big and are very hard to hit with even a shot gun shot. Of course another problem with morning doves is that because they are not so big you really need to get a mess of them at once if you are going to have them as a main course at dinner time.
I was able to solve my morning dove problems by visiting my grandpa. You see he is a collector of Viet Nam War era memorabilia. He has everything in his collection from machine guns to barrels of Agent Orange. Of course he can have all this neat stuff because he has the proper permits. My grandpa gets some of his stuff from other collectors but most of it he accumulated when he was in Viet Nam during the war. I guess he was one of those people you’d call a picker. You see he’d go around to military ammo dumps and pick out stuff he thought you could use back in the Michigan for hunting and fishing. He then sent the stuff back home through the mail. It cost my grandpa everything he earned just for postage. Just the cannon and rocket launcher he sent back was three months army pay.
Now when I went to see old grandpa he suggested that I use some land mines to hunt doves. He said the land mines he had were really sensitive. I told him that the only problem was that I intended to go hunting on state land and I wouldn’t want some hiker to get blown away. You see I was always taught to handle weapons in a responsible manner. My grandpa agreed and said that land mines might be overkill so he suggested that I use a mortar launcher. A mortar would be the perfect weapon to use against morning doves. You see not only would a mortar round eliminate several of the enemy doves at a time the doves would also be cleaned, feathers burned off and, cooked instantly. I’d have a meal ready to eat right there in the woods. My grandpa added that because doves had a reputation of being vicious if wounded the mortar would eliminate my trying to handle the nasty the little beasts up close.
Once I gout out in the woods on some state land I found a small opening in an old cedar swamp. There was an old partially graveled lumber trail road running through the center of the opening. I knew that was the perfect spot to hunt for morning doves. The next morning before daybreak I set up my mortar about 100 feet from the little opening. It wasn’t long before I spotted about a half dozen doves just sitting quietly out in the open. I dropped in my mortar round and fired. The only problem was I wasn’t use to setting the mortar cannons proper angle of projection so I overshot the morning doves by about 1000 feet.
Overshooting the doves would not have been much of a problem except that in Northern Michigan a lot of people don’t like to pay the liquor tax on whiskey so they set up their own still in the backwoods. Well, my mortar round happened to hit a still and suddenly there was a huge mushroom cloud rising up into the sky. I would have stood there looking at the mushroom cloud and all the trees that were vaporized but the shock wave knocked me to the ground and I laid there in a coma for three days.
After I got out of the hospital burn unit I decided I was not going to hunt morning doves anymore. Doves were just too difficult an animal to hunt especially when you consider the meager amount of meat on each morning dove. My soul is at peace with the nasty little dove. Instead, I can hardly wait to get some of my grandpa’s napalm to use when I go deer hunting next fall.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
GUN SAFETY IN MICHIGAN
By Mike Colin
You have to be really careful with guns. I once shot my toes off when I was a kid but they grew back. For most people their toes don’t grow back but I guess I’m some sort of mutant because my dad used to feed us kids fish he caught at a nuclear generator cooling pond. I was born with webbed toes, webbed feet and a functioning set of gills. I’d be a regular fish-man excerpt I can only dive down two feet and then my ears start to pop.
Well, enough with my personal stuff. What I’m really trying to tell people is that gun safety is important. For one thing you should never walk around with a loaded gun and the safety off. Of course many backwoods people defunctionalize the safety on their gun because in the backwoods they think that safety is for sissies. But, the problem is that most people will not grow back a second set of toes if they happen to blow the first set off with a shotgun. Not only that but take it from a guy who did loose his first set of toes: it really hurts. Besides that mutants don’t have toes that grow back instantly like in the movies. It took nearly ten minutes before my second set of toes were completely back and functional.
Now, walking around with a gun that isn’t loaded still makes you look cool to the ladies. I know most of my friends can easily find a date just by driving around the county with a gun rack in their pick-up, with a variety to weapons of course and, a couple of half drank 40 oz beers on the top of the dash board. Chicks just love 40 ouncers. The size of a man’s beer bottle is very important to the kind of women you find in the backwoods. The half drank beer bottles also signal to the ladies that the man is safe to date. Because the bottles are half drank it means that this man has been dating women and that he has been giving them his 40 ouncers. If the guy had full 40 ouncers it would signal to a woman that he had never had a date before and that he was some sort of city slicker weirdo out in the county for heinous purposes.
I just hope that by reading this article you’ve learned a lot about gun safety. Let me end by telling you a little story about my aunt May. Now aunt May was blind as a beaver pup. She could not see anything and she also had a bad limp so, she always walked around using a double barrel shotgun as a cane. Well, one day when her cousin Big Hairy Larry came up behind her she turned around, thought she saw a big foot monster, and blew his head off. Of course she went to prison. The jury didn’t believe her story that she was just trying to protect herself from Bigfoot. Instead, they believed the prosecutor who said that May killed her husband because she had found out he was having a fling with her sister.
You have to be really careful with guns. I once shot my toes off when I was a kid but they grew back. For most people their toes don’t grow back but I guess I’m some sort of mutant because my dad used to feed us kids fish he caught at a nuclear generator cooling pond. I was born with webbed toes, webbed feet and a functioning set of gills. I’d be a regular fish-man excerpt I can only dive down two feet and then my ears start to pop.
Well, enough with my personal stuff. What I’m really trying to tell people is that gun safety is important. For one thing you should never walk around with a loaded gun and the safety off. Of course many backwoods people defunctionalize the safety on their gun because in the backwoods they think that safety is for sissies. But, the problem is that most people will not grow back a second set of toes if they happen to blow the first set off with a shotgun. Not only that but take it from a guy who did loose his first set of toes: it really hurts. Besides that mutants don’t have toes that grow back instantly like in the movies. It took nearly ten minutes before my second set of toes were completely back and functional.
Now, walking around with a gun that isn’t loaded still makes you look cool to the ladies. I know most of my friends can easily find a date just by driving around the county with a gun rack in their pick-up, with a variety to weapons of course and, a couple of half drank 40 oz beers on the top of the dash board. Chicks just love 40 ouncers. The size of a man’s beer bottle is very important to the kind of women you find in the backwoods. The half drank beer bottles also signal to the ladies that the man is safe to date. Because the bottles are half drank it means that this man has been dating women and that he has been giving them his 40 ouncers. If the guy had full 40 ouncers it would signal to a woman that he had never had a date before and that he was some sort of city slicker weirdo out in the county for heinous purposes.
I just hope that by reading this article you’ve learned a lot about gun safety. Let me end by telling you a little story about my aunt May. Now aunt May was blind as a beaver pup. She could not see anything and she also had a bad limp so, she always walked around using a double barrel shotgun as a cane. Well, one day when her cousin Big Hairy Larry came up behind her she turned around, thought she saw a big foot monster, and blew his head off. Of course she went to prison. The jury didn’t believe her story that she was just trying to protect herself from Bigfoot. Instead, they believed the prosecutor who said that May killed her husband because she had found out he was having a fling with her sister.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
FOLLOW UP TO THE LONG LAKE CRASH LANDING OF AN UFO
PART I
By Tim Colin
This is a follow-up investigation to the one we had last year regarding the reported crash landing of a spaceship in the Grand Traverse County body of water known as Long Lake. During our investigation last year we found strange footprints along the shore and a partially eaten fish. The footprints led us to a wooded area where we glimpsed some sort of creature which then disappeared into the brush. We noticed that the creature was too short to be a big foot or a yeti however, it was way too hairy to be a human, unless of course it was someone visiting this area from the Upper Peninsula.
We did go out on the lake itself to try to locate the spaceship however, it got dark and the lake is like over 60 feet deep. Our snorkeling equipment only allowed us to search the lake to a depth of two feet. Because my father feed the family fish he caught at a water containment pond at a nuclear plant, my brother Mike was born with a set of working gills. However, he can’t dive down more than two feet in the water because his ears always start to pop. So, we were unable to find the crashed alien spaceship on our first excursion out on Long Lake.
Even though our first attempt at finding the alien spaceship was unsuccessful, we were determined to return and continue looking. The largest problem to returning to the water has been that we no longer have access to any type of boat. During our various investigations on lakes throughout Michigan for alien life forms, we have had numerous accidents and seizures of equipment by state and local officials. Now no one will loan or rent to us any form of water transport. We can’t buy a boat because no one will insure us at this time. I do believe that after five years our water safety and hazard violations will be set aside. Our lawyer told us he would get back to us. That was eight months ago.
Now that Long Lake is frozen over it is the ideal time to continue our investigation. We no longer needed any form of water transport other than for the equipment and portable ice shanty. To get our stuff out onto the lake I borrowed a toboggan and hitched my colleague Gerrrard up to it. Gerrard is quite big so I did not notice him having any difficulty hauling the toboggan through the deep snow and about ½ mile out onto the lake.
I am confident that Gerrard will be helpful during this investigation. However, I’m not sure if my brother Mike will be much help. My brother Mike thinks that he is becoming a vampire. He believes that his ex-girlfriend was a vampire who sprouted wings and flew off to Cancun Mexico with a bunch of other vampires. I think Mike is becoming mentally imbalanced. I’m not sure what the family is going to do with him. I guess if he gets much worse we’ll have to send him off to the e Upper Peninsula. That’s where all the crazy people in my family live. The U.P. brings out the most in a person especially, hair. Once in the U.P. for a couple of months, humans find that they start to grow hair in the most unnatural places like, between the fingers, under the toe nails and, even the eyeballs have to be tweaked once a week.
It’s now about two o’clock in the afternoon. Our plan is to make three small wholes in the ice to try to locate the aliens. We will place the holes about 20 feet apart. I sit next to one hole and I will be covered with our portable ice shanty. The other two holes will be manned by Gerrard and my brother Mike. I volunteered to man the hole that was covered with the ice shanty. The shanty is just made out of some sort of nylon and it really makes a terrible sound when the cold wind comes across the lake. It is much better to be outside in the wind than to have to put up with the sound of wind hitting against the sides of the nylon walls. Mike and Gerrard both volunteered to sit in the ice shanty but, I insisted that because I was the leader of our expedition that I should be the one to suffer inside the shanty while they enjoyed the outdoors.
Mike and Gerrard are just about done cutting holes in the ice for themselves. They only need to cut one for me and then slip the ice shanty over it and we’ll be ready to do some real research. I feel really confident that we will soon either find the crashed space craft or we will locate one of its inhabitants. Time will tell. For now I am going to turn off my digital recorder cell phone. I need to conserve my battery.
By Tim Colin
This is a follow-up investigation to the one we had last year regarding the reported crash landing of a spaceship in the Grand Traverse County body of water known as Long Lake. During our investigation last year we found strange footprints along the shore and a partially eaten fish. The footprints led us to a wooded area where we glimpsed some sort of creature which then disappeared into the brush. We noticed that the creature was too short to be a big foot or a yeti however, it was way too hairy to be a human, unless of course it was someone visiting this area from the Upper Peninsula.
We did go out on the lake itself to try to locate the spaceship however, it got dark and the lake is like over 60 feet deep. Our snorkeling equipment only allowed us to search the lake to a depth of two feet. Because my father feed the family fish he caught at a water containment pond at a nuclear plant, my brother Mike was born with a set of working gills. However, he can’t dive down more than two feet in the water because his ears always start to pop. So, we were unable to find the crashed alien spaceship on our first excursion out on Long Lake.
Even though our first attempt at finding the alien spaceship was unsuccessful, we were determined to return and continue looking. The largest problem to returning to the water has been that we no longer have access to any type of boat. During our various investigations on lakes throughout Michigan for alien life forms, we have had numerous accidents and seizures of equipment by state and local officials. Now no one will loan or rent to us any form of water transport. We can’t buy a boat because no one will insure us at this time. I do believe that after five years our water safety and hazard violations will be set aside. Our lawyer told us he would get back to us. That was eight months ago.
Now that Long Lake is frozen over it is the ideal time to continue our investigation. We no longer needed any form of water transport other than for the equipment and portable ice shanty. To get our stuff out onto the lake I borrowed a toboggan and hitched my colleague Gerrrard up to it. Gerrard is quite big so I did not notice him having any difficulty hauling the toboggan through the deep snow and about ½ mile out onto the lake.
I am confident that Gerrard will be helpful during this investigation. However, I’m not sure if my brother Mike will be much help. My brother Mike thinks that he is becoming a vampire. He believes that his ex-girlfriend was a vampire who sprouted wings and flew off to Cancun Mexico with a bunch of other vampires. I think Mike is becoming mentally imbalanced. I’m not sure what the family is going to do with him. I guess if he gets much worse we’ll have to send him off to the e Upper Peninsula. That’s where all the crazy people in my family live. The U.P. brings out the most in a person especially, hair. Once in the U.P. for a couple of months, humans find that they start to grow hair in the most unnatural places like, between the fingers, under the toe nails and, even the eyeballs have to be tweaked once a week.
It’s now about two o’clock in the afternoon. Our plan is to make three small wholes in the ice to try to locate the aliens. We will place the holes about 20 feet apart. I sit next to one hole and I will be covered with our portable ice shanty. The other two holes will be manned by Gerrard and my brother Mike. I volunteered to man the hole that was covered with the ice shanty. The shanty is just made out of some sort of nylon and it really makes a terrible sound when the cold wind comes across the lake. It is much better to be outside in the wind than to have to put up with the sound of wind hitting against the sides of the nylon walls. Mike and Gerrard both volunteered to sit in the ice shanty but, I insisted that because I was the leader of our expedition that I should be the one to suffer inside the shanty while they enjoyed the outdoors.
Mike and Gerrard are just about done cutting holes in the ice for themselves. They only need to cut one for me and then slip the ice shanty over it and we’ll be ready to do some real research. I feel really confident that we will soon either find the crashed space craft or we will locate one of its inhabitants. Time will tell. For now I am going to turn off my digital recorder cell phone. I need to conserve my battery.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
A STONE AGE TOY AND TOOL COMPANY
By Tim Colin
Editor
Last week I went to a manufacturing company that is really rocking in these tough economic times. The name of the company is the Rock Crackers Toy and Tool Company. The company is located in the little town of Rock Crackers. Rock Crackers is located right on top of a hill which is almost completely made up of flint rock.
I met with Mr. Rock Crackers who is the president of the company and learned a lot about rock cracking and how important rocks will be to our new green economy. Mr. Crackers told me that Flint is the stone that has been used by humans for millions of years to make tools, toys and various types of ornaments and even as a building material. The first spaceships sent into low Earth orbit were actually carved out of various forms of stones including flint. A large flint rock was actually used to ignite the gun powder that propelled the first spaceships upward into outer space. Of course today our space program uses a chemical rocket propulsion system consisting of a mixture of baking soda and apple cider vinegar.
Mr. Crackers went on to say that “…demand for our tools has never been greater since Americans can no longer afford fancy tools and toys made overseas. Iron, aluminum, copper, zinc and every other rare earth element are being sent overseas where the economies are booming. Shoot, even our sewage is being sent overseas to make fertilizer. In America we have almost nothing left to use but, we have lots of rocks. Flint has always been one of the best rocks to make stuff out of so that’s why I built my factory here.”
After his brief combination tirade and advertisement, Mr. Crackers took on a tour of his plant. Although the Rock Crackers plant makes primitive tools it is nearly fully automated with all types of rock cracking machines made out of rocks. It seems in order to crack a rock you just need to hit it with a sharper and/ or heavier rock. This is known as the Negative Law of Thermo Dynamics, “Stuff gets smaller if you hit it long enough”. I guess that’s why my younger brother is such a little wimp. Of course he always told mom and dad that his older brother’s were picking on him by cuffing and slapping him but, they just told us to “stop it“. Who listens to their parents when they say the words “stop it”?
The kind of stuff being manufactured in the factory were tools likes hoes, rakes, shovels, wheelbarrows hammers, screw drivers and snow blowers. These were all the types of tools our ancestors must have manufactured for millions of years or until they invented wood. After they used wood tools for a few thousand years then humans started to use metal.
Most of the scientists that I talk to believe that making metal was not discovered by humans but was taught to humans by space aliens. Of course the last time space aliens were here they taught humans how to make plastic bags. Space aliens needed plastic bags to freeze fresh humans for long space flights. That way the humans would still be good to munch on back on the alien home world. Evidently, according to my sources of information, space aliens tried canning humans to take home but, it was tough to find enough mason jars and even if the aliens had enough jars it was really hard to find enough lids that fit. The aliens used mostly old mayonnaise jars and the lids are really wide and hard to come by. Plastic bags were just a lot more convenient and the main ingredient was oil and that is really plentiful here on earth. So, that is why space aliens taught humans how to make plastic.
Now the types of toys manufactured at Rock Crackers are baby rattles, baseballs, tetherballs, footballs, softballs and any other type of ball you can kick, hit or, bat. Rock Crackers is currently working to develop a line of water toys but so far none of their ideas have floated with tests groups. The water board Rock Crackers developed turned out to be a better anchor than a device to skim behind a watercraft. A line of water safety items has also not done well in tests. The life preserver tests are ongoing since it has been over a year and none of the test subjects have surfaced with any data.
The entire Rock Cracker plant is powered by elephant dung. Mr. Crackers told me that the elephants were actually ones he rounded up out in Montana. It seems that when the Spanish came to America they brought over horses that got away from them and went wild and, the Spanish also brought over elephants and many of them also escaped and therefore, not only are there wild horses but, there are herds of wild elephants roaming freely all over the Western United States.
Of course feeding the elephants would normally be a problem but, The Rock Cracker engineers thought of pretty much everything. You see there is a large forest full of oak trees nearby and oak trees produce acorns. The Rock Cracker people have trained an enormous army of squirrels to bring acorns one at a time to each of the several hundred elephants that make up the Dung Energy Complex PLC which is located next to the Rock Cracker manufacturing facility. Acorns really give the elephants some monstrous releases of gas. I suppose it is a bad idea to eat raw acorns before going out on a date or going on a long trip in a car with people you like. However, eating raw acorns and going on a long trip with family members might be kind of funny.
Overall, I learned a lot about human history and the latest techniques used by American manufactures who are anxious to be competitive in this new world economy. Cracking rocks, gathering nuts and, making dung flavored gasses are things we Americans do better than anyone else in the world.
Editor
Last week I went to a manufacturing company that is really rocking in these tough economic times. The name of the company is the Rock Crackers Toy and Tool Company. The company is located in the little town of Rock Crackers. Rock Crackers is located right on top of a hill which is almost completely made up of flint rock.
I met with Mr. Rock Crackers who is the president of the company and learned a lot about rock cracking and how important rocks will be to our new green economy. Mr. Crackers told me that Flint is the stone that has been used by humans for millions of years to make tools, toys and various types of ornaments and even as a building material. The first spaceships sent into low Earth orbit were actually carved out of various forms of stones including flint. A large flint rock was actually used to ignite the gun powder that propelled the first spaceships upward into outer space. Of course today our space program uses a chemical rocket propulsion system consisting of a mixture of baking soda and apple cider vinegar.
Mr. Crackers went on to say that “…demand for our tools has never been greater since Americans can no longer afford fancy tools and toys made overseas. Iron, aluminum, copper, zinc and every other rare earth element are being sent overseas where the economies are booming. Shoot, even our sewage is being sent overseas to make fertilizer. In America we have almost nothing left to use but, we have lots of rocks. Flint has always been one of the best rocks to make stuff out of so that’s why I built my factory here.”
After his brief combination tirade and advertisement, Mr. Crackers took on a tour of his plant. Although the Rock Crackers plant makes primitive tools it is nearly fully automated with all types of rock cracking machines made out of rocks. It seems in order to crack a rock you just need to hit it with a sharper and/ or heavier rock. This is known as the Negative Law of Thermo Dynamics, “Stuff gets smaller if you hit it long enough”. I guess that’s why my younger brother is such a little wimp. Of course he always told mom and dad that his older brother’s were picking on him by cuffing and slapping him but, they just told us to “stop it“. Who listens to their parents when they say the words “stop it”?
The kind of stuff being manufactured in the factory were tools likes hoes, rakes, shovels, wheelbarrows hammers, screw drivers and snow blowers. These were all the types of tools our ancestors must have manufactured for millions of years or until they invented wood. After they used wood tools for a few thousand years then humans started to use metal.
Most of the scientists that I talk to believe that making metal was not discovered by humans but was taught to humans by space aliens. Of course the last time space aliens were here they taught humans how to make plastic bags. Space aliens needed plastic bags to freeze fresh humans for long space flights. That way the humans would still be good to munch on back on the alien home world. Evidently, according to my sources of information, space aliens tried canning humans to take home but, it was tough to find enough mason jars and even if the aliens had enough jars it was really hard to find enough lids that fit. The aliens used mostly old mayonnaise jars and the lids are really wide and hard to come by. Plastic bags were just a lot more convenient and the main ingredient was oil and that is really plentiful here on earth. So, that is why space aliens taught humans how to make plastic.
Now the types of toys manufactured at Rock Crackers are baby rattles, baseballs, tetherballs, footballs, softballs and any other type of ball you can kick, hit or, bat. Rock Crackers is currently working to develop a line of water toys but so far none of their ideas have floated with tests groups. The water board Rock Crackers developed turned out to be a better anchor than a device to skim behind a watercraft. A line of water safety items has also not done well in tests. The life preserver tests are ongoing since it has been over a year and none of the test subjects have surfaced with any data.
The entire Rock Cracker plant is powered by elephant dung. Mr. Crackers told me that the elephants were actually ones he rounded up out in Montana. It seems that when the Spanish came to America they brought over horses that got away from them and went wild and, the Spanish also brought over elephants and many of them also escaped and therefore, not only are there wild horses but, there are herds of wild elephants roaming freely all over the Western United States.
Of course feeding the elephants would normally be a problem but, The Rock Cracker engineers thought of pretty much everything. You see there is a large forest full of oak trees nearby and oak trees produce acorns. The Rock Cracker people have trained an enormous army of squirrels to bring acorns one at a time to each of the several hundred elephants that make up the Dung Energy Complex PLC which is located next to the Rock Cracker manufacturing facility. Acorns really give the elephants some monstrous releases of gas. I suppose it is a bad idea to eat raw acorns before going out on a date or going on a long trip in a car with people you like. However, eating raw acorns and going on a long trip with family members might be kind of funny.
Overall, I learned a lot about human history and the latest techniques used by American manufactures who are anxious to be competitive in this new world economy. Cracking rocks, gathering nuts and, making dung flavored gasses are things we Americans do better than anyone else in the world.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
GREAT LAKES SHARK SWALLOWS HEIRESS
A great white shark has swallowed famed heiress to the Bitter Boy Candy Company, Barbara [Bitter] Butter. According to Bernard Butter, Barbara Butters’ Husband and Becky Baker, Bernard’s’ personal business buddy, Barbara Butter was last seen swimming off the beach just south of Frankfurt Michigan. According to the couple, they both watched in horror as the great white shark sped toward the heiress and rose up underneath the poor lady with its mouth wide open. Bernard and Becky had to heroically hold each other back from the deadly waters as Barbara’s body was tossed into the air and then slipped into the jaws of the great white shark. Mr. Butter said is was just like in the movie “Jaws”, which he had watched the night before.
The coast guard and local authorities have initiated a round the clock search for any trace of the body or the shark. Bernard Butter said that the body was never going to be found in Lake Michigan. Mr. Butter went on to say that they had just come from the nearby Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes. “You know,’’ he said, “The sand is so soft and light at the dunes that your body can sink right into it. You could dig a hole there six feet deep in no time and then fill it in and no one would ever know you dug it’”.
Barbara Butter was 43 years old and was preceded in death by two sons from a previous marriage, Basil and Benson Berger. The sons died tragically while camping in Montana with their loving stepfather when, they were eaten by alligators. Bernard Butter is the soul heir to 15 billion dollars. All other heirs died as a result of being eaten by various animals thus, leaving no trace of the bodies. It seems the luck of the Bitter Boy Candy heirs is bitter indeed. The tragic death of his wife but, the, huge inheritance, has made Mr. Butters’ life bitter sweet. He and his personal business buddy Becky have announced they are getting married in order to dull the pain caused by that monster of the deep, the Michigan great white shark.
The coast guard and local authorities have initiated a round the clock search for any trace of the body or the shark. Bernard Butter said that the body was never going to be found in Lake Michigan. Mr. Butter went on to say that they had just come from the nearby Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes. “You know,’’ he said, “The sand is so soft and light at the dunes that your body can sink right into it. You could dig a hole there six feet deep in no time and then fill it in and no one would ever know you dug it’”.
Barbara Butter was 43 years old and was preceded in death by two sons from a previous marriage, Basil and Benson Berger. The sons died tragically while camping in Montana with their loving stepfather when, they were eaten by alligators. Bernard Butter is the soul heir to 15 billion dollars. All other heirs died as a result of being eaten by various animals thus, leaving no trace of the bodies. It seems the luck of the Bitter Boy Candy heirs is bitter indeed. The tragic death of his wife but, the, huge inheritance, has made Mr. Butters’ life bitter sweet. He and his personal business buddy Becky have announced they are getting married in order to dull the pain caused by that monster of the deep, the Michigan great white shark.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
MY FUNGI HUNTING BUSINESS HAS MUSHROOMED
By Tim Colin
When you live way up north you have to come up with creative ways of making a living. One business that I have done well at is giving city people backwoods tour guides. Last year I took people out to the swamp bogs so they could get a good look at quicksand. The funny thing is about half way through the tour everyone would disappear. I guess they thought my tour was boring and took off to the bar. I did learn to take cash up front before I gave a tour. Those people that lit out on me during my quicksand tours ended up not paying and they never answered their phones when I would call them.
This year I have a brand new tour. The annual Martin Mushroom Festival which I believe they have every year, seemed like a great backdrop for my new business, mushroom tours. All I would have to do is advertise in a big city that has a lot of rich people. Well, Detroit is broke but, Chicago has a lot of rich people so I decided to blanket that area with advertising. I did not have any money to spend but, my brother has a cell phone that has unlimited calling during the week provided you call after eleven o’clock at night.
I then offered a buddy of mine a free pitcher of OMB beer if could get me some people signed up for my mushroom hunting tour. He just had to make cold calls some night. It was only a couple of days later that my buddy got arrested for harassing people on the phone. But, before he went to jail he did hook me up with this couple from Chicago who were willing to pay me $500.00 to take them mushroom hunting for the Martin Mushroom festival. Now, not only was I about to make three months wages for just a couple of days work but, I got to drink the pitcher of OMB beer myself since my buddy was in jail and expected to stay there the rest of the spring and maybe part of the summer.
The Chicago couple had lots of bucks. He worked as a store manager and she worked as a nurse. They seemed nice. They were in their forties so they were too old for me to hang out with but, I took them to a nice sports bar where sometimes a former pro athlete drops by. I bought them each a shot of Absolute and then took them to their hotel and put them to bed. It was nine o’clock and I wanted these city slickers to get a good nights rest before I took them into the backwoods. They were both on the pudgy side so, I hoped neither of them would have a heart attack.
After I dropped the old folks off, I went to a topless bar. The next day when we got to the woods I regretted staying out until two. All the birds sounded like they were screaming in my ears and the swamp mold were doing a job to my sinuses. We walked through a swamp and then a black berry briar patch and then, we came across a whole slug of mushrooms. Since we were going to the morel mushroom festival, I figured these must be morel mushrooms. My brother once had his stomach pumped when he ate a mess of poison mushrooms. But, for $500.00 I was willing to take a chance that these were morels and anyway, these people should not be going mushroom hunting if they did not know what they were doing. Furthermore, the people at the mushroom festival would tell us if these were not morel mushrooms the geezers seemed real happy filling up their bag with the stringy pink capped beauties.
After we returned to the car we drove to Martin where the mushroom festival was held. Unfortunately, I was a bit off on my dates and the mushroom festival did not start until the following weekend. The couple was a little perturbed but, I suggested that they come back the next weekend and I would only charge them half price for my services. They agreed.
The couple returned to Chicago with their mushrooms. Three days went by and I had not heard from them in regards to their upcoming redeployment to the mushroom woods during the Martin Mushroom festival. Finally, on Thursday I gave them a call. Some strange lady answered the phone. When I asked to talk to my customers she said that she was their daughter and that her parents were both in the hospital. I immediately envisioned that my middle-aged meal tickets had been in some terrible accident. When I asked the daughter she said no, they had not been in a car accident. Instead, she said, her parents had gone up North to hunt mushrooms with some “creepy backwoods guy”. The daughter then told me that “the creep” had gotten her parents to pick some deadly poisonous mushrooms. She said her parents fried the mushrooms up like “the creep” told them to do and then, ate the mushrooms with steak and red wine. The daughter did say that her parents would be fine but, they would be turning “the creep” into the Better Business Bureau.
When the daughter asked who I was I decided I had better just hang up the phone. I decided that the next time I take people mushroom hunting I would first buy a bag of morel mushrooms and then just find a spot and stick them in the ground. (We do the same thing when we guide deer and moose hunters up here). The people would be happy to find the mushrooms and I would still get paid.
When you live way up north you have to come up with creative ways of making a living. One business that I have done well at is giving city people backwoods tour guides. Last year I took people out to the swamp bogs so they could get a good look at quicksand. The funny thing is about half way through the tour everyone would disappear. I guess they thought my tour was boring and took off to the bar. I did learn to take cash up front before I gave a tour. Those people that lit out on me during my quicksand tours ended up not paying and they never answered their phones when I would call them.
This year I have a brand new tour. The annual Martin Mushroom Festival which I believe they have every year, seemed like a great backdrop for my new business, mushroom tours. All I would have to do is advertise in a big city that has a lot of rich people. Well, Detroit is broke but, Chicago has a lot of rich people so I decided to blanket that area with advertising. I did not have any money to spend but, my brother has a cell phone that has unlimited calling during the week provided you call after eleven o’clock at night.
I then offered a buddy of mine a free pitcher of OMB beer if could get me some people signed up for my mushroom hunting tour. He just had to make cold calls some night. It was only a couple of days later that my buddy got arrested for harassing people on the phone. But, before he went to jail he did hook me up with this couple from Chicago who were willing to pay me $500.00 to take them mushroom hunting for the Martin Mushroom festival. Now, not only was I about to make three months wages for just a couple of days work but, I got to drink the pitcher of OMB beer myself since my buddy was in jail and expected to stay there the rest of the spring and maybe part of the summer.
The Chicago couple had lots of bucks. He worked as a store manager and she worked as a nurse. They seemed nice. They were in their forties so they were too old for me to hang out with but, I took them to a nice sports bar where sometimes a former pro athlete drops by. I bought them each a shot of Absolute and then took them to their hotel and put them to bed. It was nine o’clock and I wanted these city slickers to get a good nights rest before I took them into the backwoods. They were both on the pudgy side so, I hoped neither of them would have a heart attack.
After I dropped the old folks off, I went to a topless bar. The next day when we got to the woods I regretted staying out until two. All the birds sounded like they were screaming in my ears and the swamp mold were doing a job to my sinuses. We walked through a swamp and then a black berry briar patch and then, we came across a whole slug of mushrooms. Since we were going to the morel mushroom festival, I figured these must be morel mushrooms. My brother once had his stomach pumped when he ate a mess of poison mushrooms. But, for $500.00 I was willing to take a chance that these were morels and anyway, these people should not be going mushroom hunting if they did not know what they were doing. Furthermore, the people at the mushroom festival would tell us if these were not morel mushrooms the geezers seemed real happy filling up their bag with the stringy pink capped beauties.
After we returned to the car we drove to Martin where the mushroom festival was held. Unfortunately, I was a bit off on my dates and the mushroom festival did not start until the following weekend. The couple was a little perturbed but, I suggested that they come back the next weekend and I would only charge them half price for my services. They agreed.
The couple returned to Chicago with their mushrooms. Three days went by and I had not heard from them in regards to their upcoming redeployment to the mushroom woods during the Martin Mushroom festival. Finally, on Thursday I gave them a call. Some strange lady answered the phone. When I asked to talk to my customers she said that she was their daughter and that her parents were both in the hospital. I immediately envisioned that my middle-aged meal tickets had been in some terrible accident. When I asked the daughter she said no, they had not been in a car accident. Instead, she said, her parents had gone up North to hunt mushrooms with some “creepy backwoods guy”. The daughter then told me that “the creep” had gotten her parents to pick some deadly poisonous mushrooms. She said her parents fried the mushrooms up like “the creep” told them to do and then, ate the mushrooms with steak and red wine. The daughter did say that her parents would be fine but, they would be turning “the creep” into the Better Business Bureau.
When the daughter asked who I was I decided I had better just hang up the phone. I decided that the next time I take people mushroom hunting I would first buy a bag of morel mushrooms and then just find a spot and stick them in the ground. (We do the same thing when we guide deer and moose hunters up here). The people would be happy to find the mushrooms and I would still get paid.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
MY NEW BUSINESS: INCOME TAX PREPARATIONS
By Tim Colin
So many people are concerned about making out their income taxes that I decided this week to start a little income tax preparation business on the side. I have absolutely no training at tax preparation and have never filed an income tax form. I’ve seen a lot of people advertise that they can do income taxes. My uncle Mike does income tax in his insurance office. He said he makes sure people buy an IRA from him when he makes out the taxes that way he greatly increases his profits.
I looked into selling IRA’s to my clients but it seems you need some sort of license. It seems like you have to have a license to do anything now days. I need a license to sell securities, a license to drive, a license to go fishing. As far as a fishing license is concerned I’ve been permanently banned from fishing in most of the mid-west.
And as far as Canada goes I am banned from even crossing the border for the next five years. I guess it has something to do with the Winter Olympic Games they recently held. It seems you just can’t go out and compete in the down hill skeet shoot without being sponsored by a country. I also found out that skeet were just round disks people shoot in the air. I thought “skeet” was just another name for “skeeters” which is what we call mosquitoes in Northern Michigan. I was shooting at every pine tree I passed hoping that I might just wing a few skeeters.
I kind of wondered before I strapped on my skies, why you would be shooting at mosquitoes in the middle of winter. But, I figured Canadian mosquitoes are a lot larger than the variety we have in Michigan so they must have enough blood stored up in them to survive a cold Canadian winter. In Michigan our mosquitoes hibernate in places like my parents screen door. That way when spring first comes and you‘re lying in your bed the mosquitoes are ready to buzz around your head.
Now getting back to my income tax business, it seems that a lot of people need help filling out the forms. I started out offering tax services for just $10.00. I got almost 40 people to come in and have me fill out their forms for them. Of course I only charged $10.00 for the first week because I’m just getting started so the first week of customers is sort of practice. Next week I’m going to look at filling in some deductions for people. This week I just gathered up the basic information and sent the forms into the IRS. Nobody this week will be getting any money back from the government. Of course just to make people happy I made sure that I entered a zero for “taxes owed”. The people that come in next week will be getting some deductions and money back since I’ve decided to charge $5.00 for every deduction I fill in on the forms. There are a lot of forms that deal with deductions so I hope to make my clients and more importantly myself, a lot of money.
Making a lot of money by filing tax forms for people should be really lucrative so there might be some question as to why I’m not filing any tax returns on my tax return business. In addition, I am a bit concerned that since I am new to this business, that some of the forms I fill out might not be filled out correctly. Therefore, to avoid any problems I decided to fill in the name “Abraham Lincoln” where the tax preparer is supposed to sign. I believe that no one would question the integrity of “Abraham Lincoln” and besides, he’s not just a former president but, he’s a lawyer so who would want to haul him in for an audit.
So many people are concerned about making out their income taxes that I decided this week to start a little income tax preparation business on the side. I have absolutely no training at tax preparation and have never filed an income tax form. I’ve seen a lot of people advertise that they can do income taxes. My uncle Mike does income tax in his insurance office. He said he makes sure people buy an IRA from him when he makes out the taxes that way he greatly increases his profits.
I looked into selling IRA’s to my clients but it seems you need some sort of license. It seems like you have to have a license to do anything now days. I need a license to sell securities, a license to drive, a license to go fishing. As far as a fishing license is concerned I’ve been permanently banned from fishing in most of the mid-west.
And as far as Canada goes I am banned from even crossing the border for the next five years. I guess it has something to do with the Winter Olympic Games they recently held. It seems you just can’t go out and compete in the down hill skeet shoot without being sponsored by a country. I also found out that skeet were just round disks people shoot in the air. I thought “skeet” was just another name for “skeeters” which is what we call mosquitoes in Northern Michigan. I was shooting at every pine tree I passed hoping that I might just wing a few skeeters.
I kind of wondered before I strapped on my skies, why you would be shooting at mosquitoes in the middle of winter. But, I figured Canadian mosquitoes are a lot larger than the variety we have in Michigan so they must have enough blood stored up in them to survive a cold Canadian winter. In Michigan our mosquitoes hibernate in places like my parents screen door. That way when spring first comes and you‘re lying in your bed the mosquitoes are ready to buzz around your head.
Now getting back to my income tax business, it seems that a lot of people need help filling out the forms. I started out offering tax services for just $10.00. I got almost 40 people to come in and have me fill out their forms for them. Of course I only charged $10.00 for the first week because I’m just getting started so the first week of customers is sort of practice. Next week I’m going to look at filling in some deductions for people. This week I just gathered up the basic information and sent the forms into the IRS. Nobody this week will be getting any money back from the government. Of course just to make people happy I made sure that I entered a zero for “taxes owed”. The people that come in next week will be getting some deductions and money back since I’ve decided to charge $5.00 for every deduction I fill in on the forms. There are a lot of forms that deal with deductions so I hope to make my clients and more importantly myself, a lot of money.
Making a lot of money by filing tax forms for people should be really lucrative so there might be some question as to why I’m not filing any tax returns on my tax return business. In addition, I am a bit concerned that since I am new to this business, that some of the forms I fill out might not be filled out correctly. Therefore, to avoid any problems I decided to fill in the name “Abraham Lincoln” where the tax preparer is supposed to sign. I believe that no one would question the integrity of “Abraham Lincoln” and besides, he’s not just a former president but, he’s a lawyer so who would want to haul him in for an audit.
Friday, April 1, 2011
NORTHERN MICHIGAN INTERNATIONAL CRICKET CHAMPIONSHIP
By Ted Colin
Each year the Northern Michigan International Cricket Championship draws people from all over the world. We have people come from places as far away as Grawn, Fife Lake and, Mancelona. Many of the people who show up each year speak different languages and have very different customs. For instance, many people who attend these games can’t understand why we have pay toilets when the competition takes place in the woods. Personally, I really can’t understand the pay toilet deal myself. Especially, since the pay toilets only take $5.00 bills. I put in a $10.00 bill and I didn’t get any change back. I guess I won’t be buying any more pop from the concessions stands since it costs more for the pop going out than going in.
Well, although there are many differences between the teams and spectators at this year’s cricket event there is one overriding factor that brings everyone together: we all love watching those little critters duke it out in the ring. The main ring this year is an old hula hoop I found out behind one of the pay toilets. It looks like a car ran over it but, it is still holding together well enough to be used as the main ring. The other rings are just drawn in the sand.
Now before you can compete in a cricket match you have to find a cricket. The best way to find a cricket is to leave your front door wide open for a couple of days. Sooner or later out of all of the bugs, animals or looters that comes into your house there is bound to be at least one cricket. Of course getting a cricket into your house is just the first step in catching one.
In order to catch a cricket you have to stay up real late and get really, really tired. Then, when you turn off the lights and try to go to bed the cricket will start chirping so loud that you will rise up like a zombie from the dead but, instead of yearning to eat brains like a zombie the only thing you will yearn to do is get a hold of that cricket. Of course the cricket creature itself has the ability of a ventriloquist in that it can throw its voice to any place in the entire house. It is almost like the cricket just sits and watches you as you look all around under furniture and in closets, in the cloths hamper and behind the washer and dryer. Sometimes you just want to yank out the gas stove even though it has a gas line hooked to it. You are so tired and desperate for sleep you just don’t care anymore. After a while you can almost hear him laughing when he sees you about to find his hiding spot and then the cricket suddenly stops chirping. Then, you just stand there waiting for the creature to start chirping again hoping beyond all hope that you can find the little monster and get him to stop his hideous sounds so you can finally get some sleep. Of course he doesn’t start up again until you’ve turned off the lights and climbed back into bed.
Eventually, the cricket will make a mistake and you will catch him mulling around in the shower or just outside of the refrigerator. Now although the temptation to get revenge upon the cricket for keeping you up all night is strong, it is important that you keep a cool head about you and try to capture the little beast without harming it. After all, a squished bug is not going to win the cricket boxing tournament for you. And, if you accidentally rip off its forearms then he will be disqualified because the bug will no longer be able to wear the tiny boxing gloves that are mandatory in the sport of competitive cricket.
Once you have your cricket you have to put him through a vigorous training program which includes getting your bug to bulk up. Lots of sugar water is a good start to any weight gaining strategy whether it is for humans or bugs. Most people train their crickets to box by at first placing a tiny little mirror in front of the bug in order to get his competitive juices flowing. Then, placing live crickets with your potential champion in a confined area like a shoe box will be all you need to do to hone those talents that are the stuff that all champion bugs have pent up deep within their souls. Of course several hours of meditation should be a part of your potential champions training regiment. That way by the time of the big match-up your bug will be in complete harmony with the universe and he will have gained inner peace. At that moment your cricket will be able to rip the exoskeleton off his competition and eat those blue-green cricket guts all the way up to the eyeballs.
This years champion was named “Killer Bug”. Now Killer B. was not the actual last bug left with its insides in tacked. The last bug left was Spider Snyder but Spider S. was disqualified when the officials realized that he really was a spider and therefore was not really eligible to compete against crickets. The rules might have been bent a little if Spider Snyder happened to be a grasshopper or even a fly but, spiders are not even insects; they are arachnids. The officials just decided that an arachnid fighting an insect just was not a fair fight so Killer B. won this years championship posthumously since Spider Snyder had already devoured all of Killer B’s soft tissues. Hopefully next year the officials will be more on the ball and disqualify non-species entries before they are allowed to compete in the cricket matches.
Each year the Northern Michigan International Cricket Championship draws people from all over the world. We have people come from places as far away as Grawn, Fife Lake and, Mancelona. Many of the people who show up each year speak different languages and have very different customs. For instance, many people who attend these games can’t understand why we have pay toilets when the competition takes place in the woods. Personally, I really can’t understand the pay toilet deal myself. Especially, since the pay toilets only take $5.00 bills. I put in a $10.00 bill and I didn’t get any change back. I guess I won’t be buying any more pop from the concessions stands since it costs more for the pop going out than going in.
Well, although there are many differences between the teams and spectators at this year’s cricket event there is one overriding factor that brings everyone together: we all love watching those little critters duke it out in the ring. The main ring this year is an old hula hoop I found out behind one of the pay toilets. It looks like a car ran over it but, it is still holding together well enough to be used as the main ring. The other rings are just drawn in the sand.
Now before you can compete in a cricket match you have to find a cricket. The best way to find a cricket is to leave your front door wide open for a couple of days. Sooner or later out of all of the bugs, animals or looters that comes into your house there is bound to be at least one cricket. Of course getting a cricket into your house is just the first step in catching one.
In order to catch a cricket you have to stay up real late and get really, really tired. Then, when you turn off the lights and try to go to bed the cricket will start chirping so loud that you will rise up like a zombie from the dead but, instead of yearning to eat brains like a zombie the only thing you will yearn to do is get a hold of that cricket. Of course the cricket creature itself has the ability of a ventriloquist in that it can throw its voice to any place in the entire house. It is almost like the cricket just sits and watches you as you look all around under furniture and in closets, in the cloths hamper and behind the washer and dryer. Sometimes you just want to yank out the gas stove even though it has a gas line hooked to it. You are so tired and desperate for sleep you just don’t care anymore. After a while you can almost hear him laughing when he sees you about to find his hiding spot and then the cricket suddenly stops chirping. Then, you just stand there waiting for the creature to start chirping again hoping beyond all hope that you can find the little monster and get him to stop his hideous sounds so you can finally get some sleep. Of course he doesn’t start up again until you’ve turned off the lights and climbed back into bed.
Eventually, the cricket will make a mistake and you will catch him mulling around in the shower or just outside of the refrigerator. Now although the temptation to get revenge upon the cricket for keeping you up all night is strong, it is important that you keep a cool head about you and try to capture the little beast without harming it. After all, a squished bug is not going to win the cricket boxing tournament for you. And, if you accidentally rip off its forearms then he will be disqualified because the bug will no longer be able to wear the tiny boxing gloves that are mandatory in the sport of competitive cricket.
Once you have your cricket you have to put him through a vigorous training program which includes getting your bug to bulk up. Lots of sugar water is a good start to any weight gaining strategy whether it is for humans or bugs. Most people train their crickets to box by at first placing a tiny little mirror in front of the bug in order to get his competitive juices flowing. Then, placing live crickets with your potential champion in a confined area like a shoe box will be all you need to do to hone those talents that are the stuff that all champion bugs have pent up deep within their souls. Of course several hours of meditation should be a part of your potential champions training regiment. That way by the time of the big match-up your bug will be in complete harmony with the universe and he will have gained inner peace. At that moment your cricket will be able to rip the exoskeleton off his competition and eat those blue-green cricket guts all the way up to the eyeballs.
This years champion was named “Killer Bug”. Now Killer B. was not the actual last bug left with its insides in tacked. The last bug left was Spider Snyder but Spider S. was disqualified when the officials realized that he really was a spider and therefore was not really eligible to compete against crickets. The rules might have been bent a little if Spider Snyder happened to be a grasshopper or even a fly but, spiders are not even insects; they are arachnids. The officials just decided that an arachnid fighting an insect just was not a fair fight so Killer B. won this years championship posthumously since Spider Snyder had already devoured all of Killer B’s soft tissues. Hopefully next year the officials will be more on the ball and disqualify non-species entries before they are allowed to compete in the cricket matches.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
PAY TOILETS IN THE WOODS
By Tim Colin
As you wander along the forest trails of Northern Michigan, I’m sure you have probably been noticing the orange and purple pay chemical restrooms. These pay toilets are being placed everywhere in Michigan’s woodlands. The bright colors make them easy to spot from literally miles away. Virtually every scenic vista you look out upon will have an orange and purple public pay toilet so easily seen that your eyes will be drawn right to it. Because these pay toilets are so numerous, you don’t have to look far to find one. The price is much higher to get into one further out in the forest so, make sure you take along plenty of dollar bills and include some five dollar bills if you intend to go into the deep backwoods. Our facilities DO NOT MAKE CHANGE!!!
So, no longer will people be forced to hold back their natural urges in the forest and, for those less modest, they will no longer have to find a large bush or tree. Hikers in the woods will no longer have to be on the look out for hiker scat. A miss-step along any trail can result in scat tainted athletic shoes that may easily end with the ruin of a pair of expensive athletic sneakers.
Now having these public toilets so readily available to visitors is not only a matter of public privacy and decency but, it is also a matter of public safety. People who relieve themselves in the forest don’t realize it but, what they are doing is putting in a challenge to large predatory animals like cougars, bison, and tree toads. Many people disappear into the bellies of tree toads each year and many of the people I talk to believe it is because of joggers challenging the natural territorial boundaries of the adult, bull toad. People who use our facilities don’t need to worry about animals getting all crazed up because they smell a challenger for their territory. The chemicals in the toilets completely overpower all other smells for miles around. Many people can’t smell anything for days after a trip into one of these chemical safe houses. As an added bonus, people who have dry eyes can expect a surge in natural tear production after just one visit to our new toilet facilities.
Another safety issue is the one regarding poisonous plants which many people inadvertently use when they clean themselves in the woods. In addition to the poisonous plants, you also have to worry about rattlesnakes and venomous spiders whenever you let your guard down for even a moment in Michigan. I will not even talk about bumble bees and the damage they can do.
The cleanliness of our facilities will one day be ranked on a scale of one to five. We don’t have running water in our toilets however; we do have reusable sanitary hand wipes. To keep costs down and to protect the environment, we only issue one hand wipe per toilet per season. We also provide several sheets of toilet paper per facility per season.
Overall, we hope that you will find the use of our outdoor chemical toilets fun and worth using over and over again. I have to disclose that I do have an investment in these facilities therefore, I could get some money from their use however, I am really just glad that I can help to place these environmentally friendly yet, easily seen toilets all over Michigan. Just to remind you once again, please take plenty of one dollar and five dollar bills along with you because our facilities DO NOT MAKE CHANGE!!!
This has been an advertisement for the Load-off Chemical Toilet Company and in no way reflects the views of the owners of this blog. It does reflect poorly on the staff writer/editor who wrote it.
As you wander along the forest trails of Northern Michigan, I’m sure you have probably been noticing the orange and purple pay chemical restrooms. These pay toilets are being placed everywhere in Michigan’s woodlands. The bright colors make them easy to spot from literally miles away. Virtually every scenic vista you look out upon will have an orange and purple public pay toilet so easily seen that your eyes will be drawn right to it. Because these pay toilets are so numerous, you don’t have to look far to find one. The price is much higher to get into one further out in the forest so, make sure you take along plenty of dollar bills and include some five dollar bills if you intend to go into the deep backwoods. Our facilities DO NOT MAKE CHANGE!!!
So, no longer will people be forced to hold back their natural urges in the forest and, for those less modest, they will no longer have to find a large bush or tree. Hikers in the woods will no longer have to be on the look out for hiker scat. A miss-step along any trail can result in scat tainted athletic shoes that may easily end with the ruin of a pair of expensive athletic sneakers.
Now having these public toilets so readily available to visitors is not only a matter of public privacy and decency but, it is also a matter of public safety. People who relieve themselves in the forest don’t realize it but, what they are doing is putting in a challenge to large predatory animals like cougars, bison, and tree toads. Many people disappear into the bellies of tree toads each year and many of the people I talk to believe it is because of joggers challenging the natural territorial boundaries of the adult, bull toad. People who use our facilities don’t need to worry about animals getting all crazed up because they smell a challenger for their territory. The chemicals in the toilets completely overpower all other smells for miles around. Many people can’t smell anything for days after a trip into one of these chemical safe houses. As an added bonus, people who have dry eyes can expect a surge in natural tear production after just one visit to our new toilet facilities.
Another safety issue is the one regarding poisonous plants which many people inadvertently use when they clean themselves in the woods. In addition to the poisonous plants, you also have to worry about rattlesnakes and venomous spiders whenever you let your guard down for even a moment in Michigan. I will not even talk about bumble bees and the damage they can do.
The cleanliness of our facilities will one day be ranked on a scale of one to five. We don’t have running water in our toilets however; we do have reusable sanitary hand wipes. To keep costs down and to protect the environment, we only issue one hand wipe per toilet per season. We also provide several sheets of toilet paper per facility per season.
Overall, we hope that you will find the use of our outdoor chemical toilets fun and worth using over and over again. I have to disclose that I do have an investment in these facilities therefore, I could get some money from their use however, I am really just glad that I can help to place these environmentally friendly yet, easily seen toilets all over Michigan. Just to remind you once again, please take plenty of one dollar and five dollar bills along with you because our facilities DO NOT MAKE CHANGE!!!
This has been an advertisement for the Load-off Chemical Toilet Company and in no way reflects the views of the owners of this blog. It does reflect poorly on the staff writer/editor who wrote it.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
BIG FOOT EGG FOUND IN NORTHERN MICHIGAN
By Ted Colin
Associate Editor, Humor News Nuts Blog
Today I went out into the backwoods of Northern Michigan to meet with the man who has just proclaimed that he has found the first intact Bigfoot egg. The man is Dr. Sumwatt Lyon. He is director of Big Foot Studies at the Accelerated Education Diploma College. AEDC is famous for giving out advanced degrees in science and technology. AEDC guarantees that you will have whatever degree you desire by the time your personal check has cleared the bank. Dr. Sumwatt Lyon has several degrees himself from the prestigious Accelerated Education Diploma College.
I caught up with Dr. Lyon inside an old cave which was located deep in the heart of a cedar swamp. It was a tight fit crawling through the opening to the cave and it was a tight fit inside the cave as well. The cave was no more than 6-8 feet across and only about 4 feet tall the cave smelled just like my grandparents crawl space did every spring when the septic tank backed up underneath the house because the rain had raised the water table up so much.
“Mr. Colin I am so glad you could make it on this historical moment. As Dr. Lyon grabbed my hand and shook it firmly I noticed that there was plenty of light inside the cave since Dr. Lyon had seven or eight crank light lamps scattered about the cave.
Dr. Lyon finally let loose of my hand and with a wave of his hand he directed me to look at what he called his “baby”. It was a large blue ball shaped item that sat just behind the good doctor. “This is the real deal,” Dr. Lyon exclaimed. “This is the first ever captured unhatched egg of the Northern Michigan Big Foot. This egg was obviously laid by a male Bigfoot since female Bigfoot’s, like most other female mammals, lay only pink eggs. Most male mammals lay only blue colored eggs.”
Something was bothering me about this whole notion that males laid blue eggs and females laid pink eggs I asked Dr. Lyon “what lays white and speckled white eggs?”
Dr. Lyon responded by saying in regards to white and speckled white eggs the animal kingdom had a policy of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. Dr. Lyon continued by saying “since you are probably less than six degrees from being a lemur then, you should just mind your own damn business.
I really began becoming troubled with Dr. Lyons theories when I noticed that on the back of the egg there was a imbedded white nipple that looked like a pushed in tube t o blow air into the object in order to inflate the skull ball. The little white. “Dr. Lyon,” I said,” your blue egg looks a lot like a blue rubber ball and there appears to be nipple on the back of the ball where you could inflate said ball at will. What is going on here?”
Dr. Lyon smirked a bit as though he were saying that I was not understanding things the way they obviously were. “My friend,” he began,” you see that imbedded nipple is actually just the belly button of the creature.”
After Dr. Lyon answered all my questions with such expertise, I had no option but to believe his theories and stories regarding the big-foot monster. The blue rubbery egg Dr. Lyon produced to this crew appeared to be the actual egg of a big foot male monster. In our opinion, thus far our researchers have found nothing on the internet to refute or debunk these claims.
Associate Editor, Humor News Nuts Blog
Today I went out into the backwoods of Northern Michigan to meet with the man who has just proclaimed that he has found the first intact Bigfoot egg. The man is Dr. Sumwatt Lyon. He is director of Big Foot Studies at the Accelerated Education Diploma College. AEDC is famous for giving out advanced degrees in science and technology. AEDC guarantees that you will have whatever degree you desire by the time your personal check has cleared the bank. Dr. Sumwatt Lyon has several degrees himself from the prestigious Accelerated Education Diploma College.
I caught up with Dr. Lyon inside an old cave which was located deep in the heart of a cedar swamp. It was a tight fit crawling through the opening to the cave and it was a tight fit inside the cave as well. The cave was no more than 6-8 feet across and only about 4 feet tall the cave smelled just like my grandparents crawl space did every spring when the septic tank backed up underneath the house because the rain had raised the water table up so much.
“Mr. Colin I am so glad you could make it on this historical moment. As Dr. Lyon grabbed my hand and shook it firmly I noticed that there was plenty of light inside the cave since Dr. Lyon had seven or eight crank light lamps scattered about the cave.
Dr. Lyon finally let loose of my hand and with a wave of his hand he directed me to look at what he called his “baby”. It was a large blue ball shaped item that sat just behind the good doctor. “This is the real deal,” Dr. Lyon exclaimed. “This is the first ever captured unhatched egg of the Northern Michigan Big Foot. This egg was obviously laid by a male Bigfoot since female Bigfoot’s, like most other female mammals, lay only pink eggs. Most male mammals lay only blue colored eggs.”
Something was bothering me about this whole notion that males laid blue eggs and females laid pink eggs I asked Dr. Lyon “what lays white and speckled white eggs?”
Dr. Lyon responded by saying in regards to white and speckled white eggs the animal kingdom had a policy of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. Dr. Lyon continued by saying “since you are probably less than six degrees from being a lemur then, you should just mind your own damn business.
I really began becoming troubled with Dr. Lyons theories when I noticed that on the back of the egg there was a imbedded white nipple that looked like a pushed in tube t o blow air into the object in order to inflate the skull ball. The little white. “Dr. Lyon,” I said,” your blue egg looks a lot like a blue rubber ball and there appears to be nipple on the back of the ball where you could inflate said ball at will. What is going on here?”
Dr. Lyon smirked a bit as though he were saying that I was not understanding things the way they obviously were. “My friend,” he began,” you see that imbedded nipple is actually just the belly button of the creature.”
After Dr. Lyon answered all my questions with such expertise, I had no option but to believe his theories and stories regarding the big-foot monster. The blue rubbery egg Dr. Lyon produced to this crew appeared to be the actual egg of a big foot male monster. In our opinion, thus far our researchers have found nothing on the internet to refute or debunk these claims.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
THE HOARD OF THE FLIES
HOARD OF THE FLIES
By Tim Colin
While at the bar, my dad and I had an argument a few days ago. He told me that if you take a boat out of Frankfort Michigan and go due west you would eventually get to Wisconsin. I and my two brothers all laughed at dad since we knew from our school books that the state that lies directly across Lake Michigan from Northern Michigan is Utah. Well, of course we had to bet on it and since it was a question that involved the high seas we decided to bet a bottle of rum. .
Neither dad nor I or either of my two brothers could quite figure out how to find out if the state lying just across the Lake was Wisconsin or Utah so, we asked our co-worker and guest writer for our blog Gerrard. Gerrard said he hated geometry in school because he couldn’t figure out what some theorem about supplements of congruent angles is congruent had to do with state capitals. Gerrard did have an idea as to how we could answer our question. He said that if we took a boat across to the other side then, we could ask someone once we arrived. Gerrard does not look too bright but, he seemed to have an idea that we all agreed was the best way to find out which state is on the other side of Lake Michigan.
A couple of days later my dad had found a boat and before you knew it we were all headed out of the harbor in Frankfort for some unknown state that laid beyond our view. The crew consisted of me, my dad, my older brother Ted and my younger brother Mike and of course Ted and Mike’s friend, Gerrard. My dad had borrowed the boat from some buddy of his from the Vietnam War. I think Vietnam was after WWII but, before the French Revolution. Anyway, no matter how much any of us begged my dad refused to let anyone drive the boat except himself.
It was a nice boat, about twenty five feet long with a little room down below where you could use the bathroom in case you had a party with girls on board. Otherwise, it was easier just to give Mother Nature her due by aiming over the side of the boat for the big lake. Of course you should always be aiming downwind. I kept telling my brothers and Gerrard that they needed to always be downwind of me when they relieved themselves but, do you think they ever listened?
Well things were going pretty good for quite a while. My dad, brothers and I were on one side of the boat and Gerrard was on the other so the boat was pretty much balanced out. Unfortunately, when we were about ten miles out of port we ran out of gas. It seems that dad was a little tight on cash that day so he figured out just exactly how much gas it would take to get to the other side of Lake Michigan and that was all he bought. In order to get back to Michigan he figured we’d each have to get some sort of part time jobs on the other side of the lake to buy gas. Of course that was a mute point now since we were out of gas and were most likely either going to starve to death or be eaten by Lake Michigan tiger sharks. Of course dad finally figured out that his mistake was that he did not take Gerrard’s weight into consideration when he bought gas so that was why we did not even make it half way across Lake Michigan.
After about a half hour of contemplating who would be eaten for dinner my brother Mike spotted an island off the aft port starboard bow that we were drifting toward. About an hour later our boat hit a rock and sank just about fifty feet from shore. We all managed to climb off the boat and wade to shore. No one saved anything from the boat except dad managed to a bottle of rum and as soon as he got to shore he walked off the beach to the nearest tree, sat down and began to swig down the rum without offering any to anybody else. Within twenty minutes he had consumed the entire bottle and passed out with his face buried flat in the sand.
Upon seeing dad with his face in the sand my brother Mike said,” Maybe someone ought to do something with dad. He might suffocate like that.”
To which I replied,” I don’t care. Just let it be known that any of you that get yourself killed is going to be on my supper menu tonight. There might be nuts, bird eggs and, shellfish on this island but I need protein everyday to sustain myself. I will even eat my own kin just so I can stay alive. “
I took my two bothers to the side and said that “I have a real problem with Gerrard running around the island with just his underwear on. For one thing, why is he doing this?”
My brother Ted said that at home Gerrard’s mother didn’t allow him to run around with just his underwear on so he was trying to express his freedom while on a deserted island where his mom could not see him. My other brother Mike said that Gerrard told him that he had stripped off all his cloths because he figured there would be hula girls somewhere on the island and he wanted to impress them with his massive physique.
I also told my brothers that maybe being lost at sea was a good thing. I said that I was going to set up a camp on the other side of the island for guys who want to hunt and stuff and have a good time. My older brother Ted agreed with me but, my stupid younger Brother Mike decided that he and Miss Piggy (My new nick name for Gerrard), would stay on the side of the island where the old man was passed out in case he needed help. Mike also said he and Miss Piggy would keep a fire going so someone might rescue us. I told him that we were at least twelve miles off shore and no one would ever rescue us.
Ted and I hunted all over our side of the island but, the only creatures we found were bugs. Finally, I stumbled across a whole patch of mushrooms. At last we hunters would be able to provide a feast for everyone on the island. Those would show everyone how superior hunters are to guys that just sit around trying to get rescued.
The one problem Ted and I had was that neither of us had any way to start a fire. I knew that if only one of us had a pair of glasses then we could refract sunlight onto some dry grass and start a fire. The problem with that idea was that I’ve never had to wear glasses and Ted had laser surgery on his eye balls back when he worked at Wall Mart and had some insurance. I soon realized that the only way that we could get some fire to cook our mushrooms on was to steal the fire from the other camp.
I take great joy in being sneaky so, I sneaked over to the other camp and took a stick that had hot coals on the end of it. I was right in plain sight of my brother Mike but, he did not put up any kind of fight. He just said to Gerrard “I guess my brothers need some fire. You’d think they’d just ask for a lighter or some matches.”
Once the mushrooms were cooked Ted and I each tried a few. Suddenly, we no longer felt any anxiety about being lost off the Lake Michigan Coast or anything else for that matter. I’m not sure what Ted did after we consumed some mushrooms but I wandered out to the beach and saw several dozen gorgeous pastel colored mermaids just lying around relaxing. They were lying around just like they were waiting for me.
After several hours of having kissy-face with the mermaids I suddenly laying in the sand and staring up at a guy in some sort of uniform. He said “What in the world is going on here?” I had stinky seaweed all over my face and a hoard of flies were moving in and out of my nostrils, ears and, mouth.
Well the guy was from the Coast Guard and they rescued all of us and took us back to Michigan. We never did get to the other side of the lake to find out what state was over there but, after lots of research on the internet it seems that the state on the other side of Lake Michigan from Michigan is Ecuador. Who would have thanked it?
By Tim Colin
While at the bar, my dad and I had an argument a few days ago. He told me that if you take a boat out of Frankfort Michigan and go due west you would eventually get to Wisconsin. I and my two brothers all laughed at dad since we knew from our school books that the state that lies directly across Lake Michigan from Northern Michigan is Utah. Well, of course we had to bet on it and since it was a question that involved the high seas we decided to bet a bottle of rum. .
Neither dad nor I or either of my two brothers could quite figure out how to find out if the state lying just across the Lake was Wisconsin or Utah so, we asked our co-worker and guest writer for our blog Gerrard. Gerrard said he hated geometry in school because he couldn’t figure out what some theorem about supplements of congruent angles is congruent had to do with state capitals. Gerrard did have an idea as to how we could answer our question. He said that if we took a boat across to the other side then, we could ask someone once we arrived. Gerrard does not look too bright but, he seemed to have an idea that we all agreed was the best way to find out which state is on the other side of Lake Michigan.
A couple of days later my dad had found a boat and before you knew it we were all headed out of the harbor in Frankfort for some unknown state that laid beyond our view. The crew consisted of me, my dad, my older brother Ted and my younger brother Mike and of course Ted and Mike’s friend, Gerrard. My dad had borrowed the boat from some buddy of his from the Vietnam War. I think Vietnam was after WWII but, before the French Revolution. Anyway, no matter how much any of us begged my dad refused to let anyone drive the boat except himself.
It was a nice boat, about twenty five feet long with a little room down below where you could use the bathroom in case you had a party with girls on board. Otherwise, it was easier just to give Mother Nature her due by aiming over the side of the boat for the big lake. Of course you should always be aiming downwind. I kept telling my brothers and Gerrard that they needed to always be downwind of me when they relieved themselves but, do you think they ever listened?
Well things were going pretty good for quite a while. My dad, brothers and I were on one side of the boat and Gerrard was on the other so the boat was pretty much balanced out. Unfortunately, when we were about ten miles out of port we ran out of gas. It seems that dad was a little tight on cash that day so he figured out just exactly how much gas it would take to get to the other side of Lake Michigan and that was all he bought. In order to get back to Michigan he figured we’d each have to get some sort of part time jobs on the other side of the lake to buy gas. Of course that was a mute point now since we were out of gas and were most likely either going to starve to death or be eaten by Lake Michigan tiger sharks. Of course dad finally figured out that his mistake was that he did not take Gerrard’s weight into consideration when he bought gas so that was why we did not even make it half way across Lake Michigan.
After about a half hour of contemplating who would be eaten for dinner my brother Mike spotted an island off the aft port starboard bow that we were drifting toward. About an hour later our boat hit a rock and sank just about fifty feet from shore. We all managed to climb off the boat and wade to shore. No one saved anything from the boat except dad managed to a bottle of rum and as soon as he got to shore he walked off the beach to the nearest tree, sat down and began to swig down the rum without offering any to anybody else. Within twenty minutes he had consumed the entire bottle and passed out with his face buried flat in the sand.
Upon seeing dad with his face in the sand my brother Mike said,” Maybe someone ought to do something with dad. He might suffocate like that.”
To which I replied,” I don’t care. Just let it be known that any of you that get yourself killed is going to be on my supper menu tonight. There might be nuts, bird eggs and, shellfish on this island but I need protein everyday to sustain myself. I will even eat my own kin just so I can stay alive. “
I took my two bothers to the side and said that “I have a real problem with Gerrard running around the island with just his underwear on. For one thing, why is he doing this?”
My brother Ted said that at home Gerrard’s mother didn’t allow him to run around with just his underwear on so he was trying to express his freedom while on a deserted island where his mom could not see him. My other brother Mike said that Gerrard told him that he had stripped off all his cloths because he figured there would be hula girls somewhere on the island and he wanted to impress them with his massive physique.
I also told my brothers that maybe being lost at sea was a good thing. I said that I was going to set up a camp on the other side of the island for guys who want to hunt and stuff and have a good time. My older brother Ted agreed with me but, my stupid younger Brother Mike decided that he and Miss Piggy (My new nick name for Gerrard), would stay on the side of the island where the old man was passed out in case he needed help. Mike also said he and Miss Piggy would keep a fire going so someone might rescue us. I told him that we were at least twelve miles off shore and no one would ever rescue us.
Ted and I hunted all over our side of the island but, the only creatures we found were bugs. Finally, I stumbled across a whole patch of mushrooms. At last we hunters would be able to provide a feast for everyone on the island. Those would show everyone how superior hunters are to guys that just sit around trying to get rescued.
The one problem Ted and I had was that neither of us had any way to start a fire. I knew that if only one of us had a pair of glasses then we could refract sunlight onto some dry grass and start a fire. The problem with that idea was that I’ve never had to wear glasses and Ted had laser surgery on his eye balls back when he worked at Wall Mart and had some insurance. I soon realized that the only way that we could get some fire to cook our mushrooms on was to steal the fire from the other camp.
I take great joy in being sneaky so, I sneaked over to the other camp and took a stick that had hot coals on the end of it. I was right in plain sight of my brother Mike but, he did not put up any kind of fight. He just said to Gerrard “I guess my brothers need some fire. You’d think they’d just ask for a lighter or some matches.”
Once the mushrooms were cooked Ted and I each tried a few. Suddenly, we no longer felt any anxiety about being lost off the Lake Michigan Coast or anything else for that matter. I’m not sure what Ted did after we consumed some mushrooms but I wandered out to the beach and saw several dozen gorgeous pastel colored mermaids just lying around relaxing. They were lying around just like they were waiting for me.
After several hours of having kissy-face with the mermaids I suddenly laying in the sand and staring up at a guy in some sort of uniform. He said “What in the world is going on here?” I had stinky seaweed all over my face and a hoard of flies were moving in and out of my nostrils, ears and, mouth.
Well the guy was from the Coast Guard and they rescued all of us and took us back to Michigan. We never did get to the other side of the lake to find out what state was over there but, after lots of research on the internet it seems that the state on the other side of Lake Michigan from Michigan is Ecuador. Who would have thanked it?
Thursday, February 24, 2011
THERE WERE THREE WOLVES
By Tim Colin
Three stray wolves have been menacing the people of Northern Michigan lately. In particular, they have been hunting down and eating severely overweight snowboarders. Local Department of Natural Resources officials believe that the reason the wolves eat severely overweight snowboarders is that thin snow boarders race downhill too fast for the wolves to grab them but, severely overweight individuals jump on their snowboards and just sink into the snow. Thus, they become the perfect treat for wolves that have been starving in Cedar Swamps most of the winter.
Investigations by area officials have determined that overweight snowboarders who are full of hot cocoa are the main victims. One official speaking with anonymity said that the wolves seem to crave the taste of hot cocoa. “Overweight individuals full of hot cocoa are just like giant thermoses to the wolves. The layers of fat evidently keep the cocoa warm and steamy. There is nothing better than hot steamy cocoa on a cold snowy day.”
A zoologist from Sea World has disagreed with the cocoa concept. She believes that the wolves are actually attracted to the taste of marshmallows. Since severely overweight people put lots of marshmallows in their cocoa then, it does stand to reason that the wolves would pick them out for eating due to their sweet marshmallow goodness.
To be on the safe side the Department of Natural Resources has banned all overweight snowboarders who drink hot cocoa loaded with marshmallows from going out on the ski slopes of Northern Michigan. This ban will remain in effect until the wolves are captured and transported to an island in Lake Michigan where marshmallows grow naturally.
THE YETI IN THE OUTHOUSE
Three stray wolves have been menacing the people of Northern Michigan lately. In particular, they have been hunting down and eating severely overweight snowboarders. Local Department of Natural Resources officials believe that the reason the wolves eat severely overweight snowboarders is that thin snow boarders race downhill too fast for the wolves to grab them but, severely overweight individuals jump on their snowboards and just sink into the snow. Thus, they become the perfect treat for wolves that have been starving in Cedar Swamps most of the winter.
Investigations by area officials have determined that overweight snowboarders who are full of hot cocoa are the main victims. One official speaking with anonymity said that the wolves seem to crave the taste of hot cocoa. “Overweight individuals full of hot cocoa are just like giant thermoses to the wolves. The layers of fat evidently keep the cocoa warm and steamy. There is nothing better than hot steamy cocoa on a cold snowy day.”
A zoologist from Sea World has disagreed with the cocoa concept. She believes that the wolves are actually attracted to the taste of marshmallows. Since severely overweight people put lots of marshmallows in their cocoa then, it does stand to reason that the wolves would pick them out for eating due to their sweet marshmallow goodness.
To be on the safe side the Department of Natural Resources has banned all overweight snowboarders who drink hot cocoa loaded with marshmallows from going out on the ski slopes of Northern Michigan. This ban will remain in effect until the wolves are captured and transported to an island in Lake Michigan where marshmallows grow naturally.
THE YETI IN THE OUTHOUSE
Thursday, February 17, 2011
ICE FISHING CARNIVAL
By Tim Colin
Ice Fishing Carnival is an event held each year in Michigan. The event takes place out on the ice covering Lake Birdie. This event has been going on for decades and has always been exciting for participants and spectators alike. Many people participate in the sanctioned fishing and snowmobiling events. These events are very safe and great for family entertainment but, I don’t go to watch these events.
Instead, I like to watch the unsanctioned, showoff your snowmobile driving skills event. These people crank up their snow machines for exciting slides across sometimes treacherous ice. Watching people fly across the ice at 100 mph on their snowmobiles is really exciting. I especially like it when someone is going too fast and they are heading directly for someone’s cabin up on the shoreline. Watching the machines flip over and over as the drivers try to swerve out of a certainly fatal skull on cabin siding collision, can really give you a thrill. It is so much better than auto racing. Snow machine riders have almost no protection against frost bite let alone crashing into objects like cabins and ice shanties. Of course if there is an explosion, their clothing is usually highly flammable. Luckily they can roll around in the snow.
Another unsanctioned event that will give an onlooker a cheep but, no less exciting thrill, is the annual “Who is the stupidest person in Michigan?” event. In order to participate in this event you need to own a late model pickup truck with a blue book value of $50,000 or more. Each year there are at least a dozen people who participate in this event. The goal is to see how many of these trucks can park next to each other before the ice gives out underneath them and the vehicles become aquatic habitats for fish and other lake plants and creatures. Boy when that ice gives way those trucks really go down fast. You don’t dare make a trip to the port-a-potty or you might miss the whole show.
I get even greater thrills when the conservation and sheriffs officers start showing up and issuing citations to the truck owners. In addition to loosing their expensive trucks, these dim wits also get a nice hefty fine for polluting the lake. But, wait, there’s more. They also have to pay to have their sunken big trucks hauled out of the lake. For someone who likes to watch really dumb people loose lots of money doing something really stupid well, life does not get any better than a day out on the ice during Ice Carnival.
Of course you don’t have to go to a sanctioned event like on Lake Birdie to watch people do really crazy things out on the ice in Michigan. They do the same thing on every lake and river in the state as soon a there is a thin layer of ice on the water. The only thing is that during Ice Carnival you can get a hot dog and use a port-a-potty while you are waiting for someone to do something really stupid.
Ice Fishing Carnival is an event held each year in Michigan. The event takes place out on the ice covering Lake Birdie. This event has been going on for decades and has always been exciting for participants and spectators alike. Many people participate in the sanctioned fishing and snowmobiling events. These events are very safe and great for family entertainment but, I don’t go to watch these events.
Instead, I like to watch the unsanctioned, showoff your snowmobile driving skills event. These people crank up their snow machines for exciting slides across sometimes treacherous ice. Watching people fly across the ice at 100 mph on their snowmobiles is really exciting. I especially like it when someone is going too fast and they are heading directly for someone’s cabin up on the shoreline. Watching the machines flip over and over as the drivers try to swerve out of a certainly fatal skull on cabin siding collision, can really give you a thrill. It is so much better than auto racing. Snow machine riders have almost no protection against frost bite let alone crashing into objects like cabins and ice shanties. Of course if there is an explosion, their clothing is usually highly flammable. Luckily they can roll around in the snow.
Another unsanctioned event that will give an onlooker a cheep but, no less exciting thrill, is the annual “Who is the stupidest person in Michigan?” event. In order to participate in this event you need to own a late model pickup truck with a blue book value of $50,000 or more. Each year there are at least a dozen people who participate in this event. The goal is to see how many of these trucks can park next to each other before the ice gives out underneath them and the vehicles become aquatic habitats for fish and other lake plants and creatures. Boy when that ice gives way those trucks really go down fast. You don’t dare make a trip to the port-a-potty or you might miss the whole show.
I get even greater thrills when the conservation and sheriffs officers start showing up and issuing citations to the truck owners. In addition to loosing their expensive trucks, these dim wits also get a nice hefty fine for polluting the lake. But, wait, there’s more. They also have to pay to have their sunken big trucks hauled out of the lake. For someone who likes to watch really dumb people loose lots of money doing something really stupid well, life does not get any better than a day out on the ice during Ice Carnival.
Of course you don’t have to go to a sanctioned event like on Lake Birdie to watch people do really crazy things out on the ice in Michigan. They do the same thing on every lake and river in the state as soon a there is a thin layer of ice on the water. The only thing is that during Ice Carnival you can get a hot dog and use a port-a-potty while you are waiting for someone to do something really stupid.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
ATTACK OF THE BRAIN EATING, FLYING, ZOMBIE SQUIRRELS
Tim Colin
Recently, Northern Michigan suffered an outbreak of giant, brain eating, flying, zombie, squirrels. The first of these creatures was observed near the famed Sleeping Bear Dunes National Park. It is widely known that beneath the park is a government run, super secret, experimental sciences laboratory known as Area 91.
The modus operandi of these monsters is to swoop down upon their victims from behind and then proceed to gnaw through the skull and into the brain cavity. Then, the zombie squirrels eat every single brain cell. So far there have been over two dozen victims. None of the victims have fully recovered from their attack. Most of theses brain cell challenged individuals don’t seem to miss their brains too much however, after a while each victim seems to go in to a zombie trance and then, the new zombies begin to try to eat the brains out of non-zombies. It is almost like they are trying to replace the brains they lost by stealing as a meal, the brains of the non-dead.
In addition to their bad behavior, each person who transitions into the zombie state has no pulse and feels cold to the touch. The disease spreads between humans just as it spreads from squirrel to human. Each person attacked by human zombies also becomes stone cold and has no heartbeat. It seems that the virus is transmitted only through saliva since in order to get the disease; the potential victim must be bitten. Once bitten, the victim has a 100% chance of coming down with the disease. The disease is of course incurable and the only treatment is to destroy any brain cells that zombie might have. You have to hit the zombie in the head to stop them. Otherwise, they will simply get up and pursue another victim.
I have recruited my friend Gerrard to help to stop this zombie epidemic in Northern Michigan before it becomes a world wide pandemic. Gerrard raises rats in his mother’s basement for scientific experiments so; he has some knowledge of rodent behavior. I also consulted local Traverse City psychic Madam Misty Merkel. She in turn consulted a friend oh her’s who is a witch. The witch told Madam Misty that the best person to talk to would be someone from Jamaica. In almost every old zombie movie the person who gave the zombie life was either from Jamaica or Hattie. The witch insisted that zombies are created by persons who practice the art of voodoo.
After consulting the web, Gerrard found that there was a Jamaican living in Saginaw Michigan and working at Delta College who was on loan from the Jamaican University of Occult Arts and Crafts. We immediately contacted this man and after intense negotiations, he agreed to meet with us for $15.00 and a carton of menthol flavored cigarettes.
The learned Jamaican was Professor Main E. Ack. The professor was assigned to the custodial sciences at Delta College while his credentials are being checked and pending the outcome of his deportation hearing. The professor has listed on his face book page
that he is the world’s foremost expert on mammals with brain eating disorders.
When I met the professor I noticed that he did not have dreadlocks. When I mentioned this to him he accused me of being a racist and besides, he was actually from Brazil but had to go to Jamaica to study the occult sciences at university level because he did not have the grades to study the occult sciences in Brazil.
Professor Ack did give us one very important information that we did not have before. It seems that according to a History News Nuts blog, brain eating squirrels were common to North America until the time of Columbus. Columbus and his brother discovered that by hitting the squirrels directly in the head you could kill them. Since that time brain eating zombie squirrels were thought to be extinct.
After we gave Professor Ack his $15.00 and a case of menthol cigarettes, Gerrard and I returned to our base in Traverse City. We now knew exactly how to stop the brain eating zombie squirrels and the humans they had infected. You had to hit them in the head. That was the only way to stop them. Hit them in the head with a bullet, a ball bat or a golf club, it did not matter. The brain had to be destroyed or whatever brain cells were left after other zombies had feasted on the head.
It was not long until everyone in the Traverse City area was hunting down zombies and bashing their brains in. Traverse City area residents used various methods to destroy the zombified squirrels and humans. Some residents used golf clubs. Some used coffee cups with the most exquisite latté in them. Others used such brain killers as hockey sticks, tether balls and lawn jarts. In the end, zombism died in the forests of Grand Traverse and Benzie counties.
Although all know zombies were wiped out there are still several unresolved questions regarding the zombie outbreak? First of all, why did the zombie outbreak get started in the first place? Have there always been zombie brain eaters out there that we ignored until a massive outbreak was staring us in the face?
Another interesting question is what part did area 91 play in the zombie outbreak? Do the scientists that play god under the sand dunes have some chemical that causes the dead to become undead and crave brains? Is this some sort of military experiment?
Perhaps the scientists who work at area 91 under the sand dunes have some sort of time travel machine. Maybe they retrieved diseased animals from the past before Christopher Columbus and his brother eradicated the little monsters from our continent.
One other interesting issue is that we were attacked by brain eating flying zombie squirrels. Clearly, the history books state that the original brain eating zombie squirrels swung down from vines to attack their victims. They could not fly evidently or, they would not have had to swing down. Was the change from regular squirrels attacking humans on vines and the current monsters being capable of flight, an accident of nature or the hand of man at work making a killing machine just that much more perfect in design?
Recently, Northern Michigan suffered an outbreak of giant, brain eating, flying, zombie, squirrels. The first of these creatures was observed near the famed Sleeping Bear Dunes National Park. It is widely known that beneath the park is a government run, super secret, experimental sciences laboratory known as Area 91.
The modus operandi of these monsters is to swoop down upon their victims from behind and then proceed to gnaw through the skull and into the brain cavity. Then, the zombie squirrels eat every single brain cell. So far there have been over two dozen victims. None of the victims have fully recovered from their attack. Most of theses brain cell challenged individuals don’t seem to miss their brains too much however, after a while each victim seems to go in to a zombie trance and then, the new zombies begin to try to eat the brains out of non-zombies. It is almost like they are trying to replace the brains they lost by stealing as a meal, the brains of the non-dead.
In addition to their bad behavior, each person who transitions into the zombie state has no pulse and feels cold to the touch. The disease spreads between humans just as it spreads from squirrel to human. Each person attacked by human zombies also becomes stone cold and has no heartbeat. It seems that the virus is transmitted only through saliva since in order to get the disease; the potential victim must be bitten. Once bitten, the victim has a 100% chance of coming down with the disease. The disease is of course incurable and the only treatment is to destroy any brain cells that zombie might have. You have to hit the zombie in the head to stop them. Otherwise, they will simply get up and pursue another victim.
I have recruited my friend Gerrard to help to stop this zombie epidemic in Northern Michigan before it becomes a world wide pandemic. Gerrard raises rats in his mother’s basement for scientific experiments so; he has some knowledge of rodent behavior. I also consulted local Traverse City psychic Madam Misty Merkel. She in turn consulted a friend oh her’s who is a witch. The witch told Madam Misty that the best person to talk to would be someone from Jamaica. In almost every old zombie movie the person who gave the zombie life was either from Jamaica or Hattie. The witch insisted that zombies are created by persons who practice the art of voodoo.
After consulting the web, Gerrard found that there was a Jamaican living in Saginaw Michigan and working at Delta College who was on loan from the Jamaican University of Occult Arts and Crafts. We immediately contacted this man and after intense negotiations, he agreed to meet with us for $15.00 and a carton of menthol flavored cigarettes.
The learned Jamaican was Professor Main E. Ack. The professor was assigned to the custodial sciences at Delta College while his credentials are being checked and pending the outcome of his deportation hearing. The professor has listed on his face book page
that he is the world’s foremost expert on mammals with brain eating disorders.
When I met the professor I noticed that he did not have dreadlocks. When I mentioned this to him he accused me of being a racist and besides, he was actually from Brazil but had to go to Jamaica to study the occult sciences at university level because he did not have the grades to study the occult sciences in Brazil.
Professor Ack did give us one very important information that we did not have before. It seems that according to a History News Nuts blog, brain eating squirrels were common to North America until the time of Columbus. Columbus and his brother discovered that by hitting the squirrels directly in the head you could kill them. Since that time brain eating zombie squirrels were thought to be extinct.
After we gave Professor Ack his $15.00 and a case of menthol cigarettes, Gerrard and I returned to our base in Traverse City. We now knew exactly how to stop the brain eating zombie squirrels and the humans they had infected. You had to hit them in the head. That was the only way to stop them. Hit them in the head with a bullet, a ball bat or a golf club, it did not matter. The brain had to be destroyed or whatever brain cells were left after other zombies had feasted on the head.
It was not long until everyone in the Traverse City area was hunting down zombies and bashing their brains in. Traverse City area residents used various methods to destroy the zombified squirrels and humans. Some residents used golf clubs. Some used coffee cups with the most exquisite latté in them. Others used such brain killers as hockey sticks, tether balls and lawn jarts. In the end, zombism died in the forests of Grand Traverse and Benzie counties.
Although all know zombies were wiped out there are still several unresolved questions regarding the zombie outbreak? First of all, why did the zombie outbreak get started in the first place? Have there always been zombie brain eaters out there that we ignored until a massive outbreak was staring us in the face?
Another interesting question is what part did area 91 play in the zombie outbreak? Do the scientists that play god under the sand dunes have some chemical that causes the dead to become undead and crave brains? Is this some sort of military experiment?
Perhaps the scientists who work at area 91 under the sand dunes have some sort of time travel machine. Maybe they retrieved diseased animals from the past before Christopher Columbus and his brother eradicated the little monsters from our continent.
One other interesting issue is that we were attacked by brain eating flying zombie squirrels. Clearly, the history books state that the original brain eating zombie squirrels swung down from vines to attack their victims. They could not fly evidently or, they would not have had to swing down. Was the change from regular squirrels attacking humans on vines and the current monsters being capable of flight, an accident of nature or the hand of man at work making a killing machine just that much more perfect in design?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Custom Search
Subscribe To
Posts
All Comments