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.
Showing posts with label DEER HUNTING SATIRE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DEER HUNTING SATIRE. Show all posts
Thursday, December 15, 2011
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
Monday, November 29, 2010
HUNTING DEER IN NORTHERN MICHIGAN
A GUIDE TO HUNTING DEER IN MICHIGAN WITHOUT BEING KILLED
By Mike Colin
Many people in Michigan look forward to hunting deer for fun and profit. The fun part is being able to look a fellow creature in the eyes and put a bullet or arrow through its lungs. Girls often do that to me. They look me in the eyes like they really care about me and then they shoot me through the heart when they say they just want to be friends.
The profit from deer does not come from the meat (called venison). The steaks on a deer are pretty good but the rest of the deer tastes pretty gamey and should be used for stews (add lots of onions for better flavor). Stews are what you feed your relatives and other people you don’t care about when they stop by at dinner time. I save my good meat to impress dates. I don’t actually cook it. Instead, I just open up the freezer to show off all the expensive steaks I keep. After I show off my expensive meat I always take dates out to eat. My cooking is not very good. I can’t make a slice of toast that I’d be proud of.
The real profit from deer comes from the hides. A lot of hunters will pay big bucks (LOL) to have their hide tanned. A lot of guys make a good living tanning deer hides but, sooner or later they come down with anthrax and then, they have to pass their business on to their kids.
Before you go out after the Michigan white tail deer, you need to decide how you want to kill the deer. In Michigan there are several approved of seasons for deer including bow (or crossbow for old geezers), rifle, shotgun, muzzleloader and, pistol. We also have some unapproved deer seasons like dynamite and, off road vehicle slam banging.
Once you have decided on the type of hunting you are going to do then you must purchase the appropriate uniform. For instance, during bow season most people dress in camouflage so that the relatives and spouses they hunt with can’t pick them off so easily. During firearms season, most people are smart enough not to go with their greedy and trigger happy relatives. Then, they can dress in bright orange suits so the other hunters can see them. Note: If you do go with your relatives during deer hunting season make sure you let them know that your life insurance policies have lapsed because of non-payment and that you don’t intend to make up the payments until deer season is over.
Once you have decided which season you are going to hunt in then, you must choose your weapon. I like a nice deer hunting rifle that costs less than ten bucks (LOL). I usually find a rifle at the U Steal We Fence Pawn Shop. These guns usually need some minor adjustments which can be held in place with duct tape. Instead of spending a lot of money for a scope, I just duct tape a pair of old binoculars to the top of my rifle. A regular scope reminds me too much of my high school science class. Not only did I get a black eye from the crappy telescope but I got a D+ in the class because I couldn’t tell an ameba from a protozoa. Like whoever needs to know that crap in the real world? I never talk about amebas or protozoa with any of my friends.
Once you are in the deer woods you need to find some proper protection. The best thing to hide behind is a big rock. Unless the other hunters are using grenade launchers you can feel pretty safe hiding behind a large rock. However, there are usually few large rocks in the deer woods so you will often have to protect yourself by hiding behind a large tree. The tree should be some hardwood variety like oak and be at least 20 inches thick. A lot of guys are using armor piercing bullets that can pierce a 12 inch spruce tree like a lawn jart can puncture your liver.
This year on opening day of deer season I went back to my favorite spot to hunt deer. I call it Fort Deer Camp since it is made up of a bunch of large logs that give me about three feet of cover on each side. Fort Deer Camp is an easy landmark to spot since on top of one side of the fort there are a bunch of dead limbs that look like a large 10 point buck from a distance. The big buck standing on top of my blind helps to get the attention of other big bucks that might be itching for a fight. A lot of guys swear that from about 50 yards away it looks like I have a real deer overlooking my little fort.
I didn’t see any deer on opening day this year since I was pinned down on my belly by rifle fire. This happens every year on opening day. I always have to wait until the tourists go home later on in the week before I can sit up and watch for deer. This year I didn’t think I’d ever get out of the woods but, my old man happened by my blind and laid down some cover for me with his 30, 06 rifle. I crawled on my belly out to the road where my old man was smoking a cigarette. He hadn’t seen any deer either that day but, he had gotten a nice buck the day before the season opened. Now he got the deer legally since he didn’t shoot it. Instead he hit it with his truck. He said it was an accident. He even told the deer and the game warden he was sorry.
Dad invited me back to his house where mom was fixing venison steaks and morel mushrooms for supper. The supper was super and it was a good way to end the day. Northern Michigan is a great place to live. Most people can even live through deer season. You just have to keep your head down low and hide behind some really thick trees.
By Mike Colin
Many people in Michigan look forward to hunting deer for fun and profit. The fun part is being able to look a fellow creature in the eyes and put a bullet or arrow through its lungs. Girls often do that to me. They look me in the eyes like they really care about me and then they shoot me through the heart when they say they just want to be friends.
The profit from deer does not come from the meat (called venison). The steaks on a deer are pretty good but the rest of the deer tastes pretty gamey and should be used for stews (add lots of onions for better flavor). Stews are what you feed your relatives and other people you don’t care about when they stop by at dinner time. I save my good meat to impress dates. I don’t actually cook it. Instead, I just open up the freezer to show off all the expensive steaks I keep. After I show off my expensive meat I always take dates out to eat. My cooking is not very good. I can’t make a slice of toast that I’d be proud of.
The real profit from deer comes from the hides. A lot of hunters will pay big bucks (LOL) to have their hide tanned. A lot of guys make a good living tanning deer hides but, sooner or later they come down with anthrax and then, they have to pass their business on to their kids.
Before you go out after the Michigan white tail deer, you need to decide how you want to kill the deer. In Michigan there are several approved of seasons for deer including bow (or crossbow for old geezers), rifle, shotgun, muzzleloader and, pistol. We also have some unapproved deer seasons like dynamite and, off road vehicle slam banging.
Once you have decided on the type of hunting you are going to do then you must purchase the appropriate uniform. For instance, during bow season most people dress in camouflage so that the relatives and spouses they hunt with can’t pick them off so easily. During firearms season, most people are smart enough not to go with their greedy and trigger happy relatives. Then, they can dress in bright orange suits so the other hunters can see them. Note: If you do go with your relatives during deer hunting season make sure you let them know that your life insurance policies have lapsed because of non-payment and that you don’t intend to make up the payments until deer season is over.
Once you have decided which season you are going to hunt in then, you must choose your weapon. I like a nice deer hunting rifle that costs less than ten bucks (LOL). I usually find a rifle at the U Steal We Fence Pawn Shop. These guns usually need some minor adjustments which can be held in place with duct tape. Instead of spending a lot of money for a scope, I just duct tape a pair of old binoculars to the top of my rifle. A regular scope reminds me too much of my high school science class. Not only did I get a black eye from the crappy telescope but I got a D+ in the class because I couldn’t tell an ameba from a protozoa. Like whoever needs to know that crap in the real world? I never talk about amebas or protozoa with any of my friends.
Once you are in the deer woods you need to find some proper protection. The best thing to hide behind is a big rock. Unless the other hunters are using grenade launchers you can feel pretty safe hiding behind a large rock. However, there are usually few large rocks in the deer woods so you will often have to protect yourself by hiding behind a large tree. The tree should be some hardwood variety like oak and be at least 20 inches thick. A lot of guys are using armor piercing bullets that can pierce a 12 inch spruce tree like a lawn jart can puncture your liver.
This year on opening day of deer season I went back to my favorite spot to hunt deer. I call it Fort Deer Camp since it is made up of a bunch of large logs that give me about three feet of cover on each side. Fort Deer Camp is an easy landmark to spot since on top of one side of the fort there are a bunch of dead limbs that look like a large 10 point buck from a distance. The big buck standing on top of my blind helps to get the attention of other big bucks that might be itching for a fight. A lot of guys swear that from about 50 yards away it looks like I have a real deer overlooking my little fort.
I didn’t see any deer on opening day this year since I was pinned down on my belly by rifle fire. This happens every year on opening day. I always have to wait until the tourists go home later on in the week before I can sit up and watch for deer. This year I didn’t think I’d ever get out of the woods but, my old man happened by my blind and laid down some cover for me with his 30, 06 rifle. I crawled on my belly out to the road where my old man was smoking a cigarette. He hadn’t seen any deer either that day but, he had gotten a nice buck the day before the season opened. Now he got the deer legally since he didn’t shoot it. Instead he hit it with his truck. He said it was an accident. He even told the deer and the game warden he was sorry.
Dad invited me back to his house where mom was fixing venison steaks and morel mushrooms for supper. The supper was super and it was a good way to end the day. Northern Michigan is a great place to live. Most people can even live through deer season. You just have to keep your head down low and hide behind some really thick trees.
Monday, November 15, 2010
LEADING NORTHERN MICHIGAN OUTDOORSMAN GOES OUT WITH A BANG
By Mike Colin
The greatest outdoorsman I have ever known has died in a tragic underground explosion. I am of course talking about my Great Uncle Oslo. Uncle Oslo was a hunting and fishing maverick. He invented new ways to hunt and fish faster than the government could pass laws to ban them. Thanks to Uncle Oslo you can no longer hunt geese using lawn jarts or, use horse shoes to hunt chickadees. His electric chair for the snow shoe hair was once featured in “The Alternative Hunter Magazine.” He was also on 60 Minutes before he went to jail for helping his friend, Dr. Kevorkian.
The local police believe that Oslo was blown up by a still he kept hidden in an old bear cave. My aunt told me that in fact, Uncle Oslo was getting ready to go fishing and was busy making up some home made dynamite when the explosion occurred. My dad said Uncle Oslo would be alive today if he had only stuck to the old family recipe for making dynamite instead of downloading one off the internet.
There is some good to come out of the tragic death of my uncle. It seems that Uncle Oslo never told anyone as to whether he wanted his remains cremated or buried after he died. Well, since his body was instantly vaporized in the blast and then the ashes were buried when the bear cave caved in, one way or the other my uncle’s final wishes have been carried out.
The greatest outdoorsman I have ever known has died in a tragic underground explosion. I am of course talking about my Great Uncle Oslo. Uncle Oslo was a hunting and fishing maverick. He invented new ways to hunt and fish faster than the government could pass laws to ban them. Thanks to Uncle Oslo you can no longer hunt geese using lawn jarts or, use horse shoes to hunt chickadees. His electric chair for the snow shoe hair was once featured in “The Alternative Hunter Magazine.” He was also on 60 Minutes before he went to jail for helping his friend, Dr. Kevorkian.
The local police believe that Oslo was blown up by a still he kept hidden in an old bear cave. My aunt told me that in fact, Uncle Oslo was getting ready to go fishing and was busy making up some home made dynamite when the explosion occurred. My dad said Uncle Oslo would be alive today if he had only stuck to the old family recipe for making dynamite instead of downloading one off the internet.
There is some good to come out of the tragic death of my uncle. It seems that Uncle Oslo never told anyone as to whether he wanted his remains cremated or buried after he died. Well, since his body was instantly vaporized in the blast and then the ashes were buried when the bear cave caved in, one way or the other my uncle’s final wishes have been carried out.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
TAGGING THE NORTH AMERICAN BIG FOOT
By Tim Colin
Although there is not much that you can legally hunt this time of year, it is good to be preparing yourself for hunting season. This year I intend on bagging me one of those big foot monsters that scare away tourist from Northern Michigan. The problem with the typical big foot monster is that they are dark colored and very hard to see at night. Nighttime is the best time to hunt big foots because that is when most of the conservation officers are sleeping.
I have come up with a unique way of solving the coloring issue of the big foot monster. I intend on creeping up to the big foot monsters while they are feeding and paint a large fluorescent ‘X” on the sides of the creatures. In order to minimize the danger to myself, I have with me my younger brother Mike who is going to assist me by actually painting these large, powerful and, hungry beasts. While my brother paints the beast with an “X” I will be hiding in the bushes ready to dial 911 in case something bad happens to my brother. I am just glad that I had the foresight to realize that this was a job that would take two people.
The paint I was using was some I picked up at the county garage. They had a lot of it sitting around so I figured they wouldn’t mind if I borrowed a five gallon bucket. That just made one less can that they would have to deal with.
The bait I was using to lure the big foots in was a garbage sack full of Walleyes. My uncle Mike had gone fishing down south of a chemical plant in Midland. He scooped up a whole bunch of fish with his net. The fish couldn’t swim too well because of all the large tumors they had growing all over them. My uncle soon found out that he couldn’t clean the fish because the stuff oozing from the tumors was eating through the steel of his fish fillet knife.
After my brother poured out the fish on the ground we both hid in the bushes. It was only about ten minutes later when a large brown big foot showed up. It ate on the fish for a couple of minutes before my brother finally got up the guts to go out there to paint an “X” on the creature. My younger brother had a dripping paint bush in his hand as he slowly edged up to the big foot monster. “Hurry up,” I yelled at him, “We don’t have all day,”
Well my hollering must have got the bears attention since he immediately charged my brother and swiped him across his belly with his enormous claw. My brother fell to the ground like a sack of flour. He just laid there shaking and bleeding. AS for the bear, he just turned around and went back to eating the fish. I starting laughing and had an awful time stopping long enough to call 9-11. Just thinking abut my brother lying twitching like he was still brings a smile to my face. The only bad thing is that the big foot ate up all my bait and I didn’t even get him tagged with florescent paint.
My brother only ended up having the front of his shirt tore to shreds and a few scratches. After a hundred or so stitches my brother was ready to go home. It looks like this year I am just not going to have any advantage at all hunting big foots here in Northern Michigan.
Although there is not much that you can legally hunt this time of year, it is good to be preparing yourself for hunting season. This year I intend on bagging me one of those big foot monsters that scare away tourist from Northern Michigan. The problem with the typical big foot monster is that they are dark colored and very hard to see at night. Nighttime is the best time to hunt big foots because that is when most of the conservation officers are sleeping.
I have come up with a unique way of solving the coloring issue of the big foot monster. I intend on creeping up to the big foot monsters while they are feeding and paint a large fluorescent ‘X” on the sides of the creatures. In order to minimize the danger to myself, I have with me my younger brother Mike who is going to assist me by actually painting these large, powerful and, hungry beasts. While my brother paints the beast with an “X” I will be hiding in the bushes ready to dial 911 in case something bad happens to my brother. I am just glad that I had the foresight to realize that this was a job that would take two people.
The paint I was using was some I picked up at the county garage. They had a lot of it sitting around so I figured they wouldn’t mind if I borrowed a five gallon bucket. That just made one less can that they would have to deal with.
The bait I was using to lure the big foots in was a garbage sack full of Walleyes. My uncle Mike had gone fishing down south of a chemical plant in Midland. He scooped up a whole bunch of fish with his net. The fish couldn’t swim too well because of all the large tumors they had growing all over them. My uncle soon found out that he couldn’t clean the fish because the stuff oozing from the tumors was eating through the steel of his fish fillet knife.
After my brother poured out the fish on the ground we both hid in the bushes. It was only about ten minutes later when a large brown big foot showed up. It ate on the fish for a couple of minutes before my brother finally got up the guts to go out there to paint an “X” on the creature. My younger brother had a dripping paint bush in his hand as he slowly edged up to the big foot monster. “Hurry up,” I yelled at him, “We don’t have all day,”
Well my hollering must have got the bears attention since he immediately charged my brother and swiped him across his belly with his enormous claw. My brother fell to the ground like a sack of flour. He just laid there shaking and bleeding. AS for the bear, he just turned around and went back to eating the fish. I starting laughing and had an awful time stopping long enough to call 9-11. Just thinking abut my brother lying twitching like he was still brings a smile to my face. The only bad thing is that the big foot ate up all my bait and I didn’t even get him tagged with florescent paint.
My brother only ended up having the front of his shirt tore to shreds and a few scratches. After a hundred or so stitches my brother was ready to go home. It looks like this year I am just not going to have any advantage at all hunting big foots here in Northern Michigan.
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