TAGGING THE NORTH AMERICAN BIG FOOT

By Tim Colin
Associate Editor,
Humor News Nuts Publications
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 the entire 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.

1623

THERE ARE NO BEARS IN NORTHERN MICHIGAN

WARNING: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TRY ANY ACTIVITIES FOUND ON THIS BLOG. WE ARE INVESTIGATIVE PROFESSIONAL JOURNALIST. IF WE DON'T KNOW WHAT WE ARE DOING THAN WHO DOES? TRYING TO DO ANYTHING THAT OUR STAFF DOES IS PURE FOOLISHNESS. IN SUMMARY, ONLY FOOLS DO WHAT WE DO.

For many years people have been told that there are bears in the woods in the Northern region of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula. In truth, I have never seen a bear in Michigan except at the zoo. I believe that the rumors of wild bears running around in Michigan are fostered by the Wisconsin tourist industry. They are trying to scare people out of traveling to our wonderful state. Well, I have decided to put an end to these vicious rumors once and for all. So, with my brothers Mike and Ted, we are going off to the deep woods to spend a couple nights camping and looking for evidence of bears in the area.

Day 1
No Bears
Well, we're camping out in Kalkaska County in a large cedar swamp. Bears in Florida like swamps so we figured that bears in Michigan, if they exist, will love this big smelly swamp we found on Google. This is state land but, it does not appear that anyone has ever camped here. The mosquitoes are really bad. Hopefully, when it gets dark the mosquitoes should go to sleep and not bother us until morning. All we have to do now is gather up some firewood and heat up a can of beans and roast our hot dogs. We probably shouldn't’t be eating the beans. We’re liable to have a midnight musical extravaganza. I just hope its country or rock music and not some disco crap like we had to listen to on our last camp out.

2 Hours Later
Well, the sun has gone down but, the strange thing is the mosquitoes have not gone to sleep yet. Instead, they are swarming all around us and seem to be biting more often. Ted said mosquitoes never sleep. I hope Ted is wrong or this is going to be a really long night.

In order to get some bears to come around our campsite, we have left out some chopped up pig carcass on the hood of the car. The engine was really hot by the time we got back here so we decided to cook half of the pig parts a bit to get the scent in the air. The rest of the pig parts we left in the back seat in case we needed more bate for later.

The pig parts were left over from when we were chumming for great white sharks out on Lake Michigan. I’m going to have to pick up a lot of pop and beer cans downtown to pay all the fines the Department of Natural Resources socked us with. Who knew you needed a fishing license to look for great white sharks?

Midnight
Well, my watch says its twelve o’clock and I think something’s going on in the brush. I can’t tell what it is but, something is grunting and, moaning and. circling our camp. At first I thought it was just my brother Mike going for a bathroom break but, he’s still snoring away in his sleeping bag. Well, neither of my brothers is sleeping now. Something big and black just attacked the car. We should have parked the car closer to the camp fire so we could watch the pig carcass better.

I’m not sure what this thing is but, it’s up on its hind legs chomping down on the pig parts. It can’t be a bear because they never stand on their hind legs like a human. It must be a big hairy human. We’ll know more tomorrow when it goes away and the sun is up.

Day 2
It’s 6 a.m. and something has not only eaten every last bit of pig but, it tore the heck out of Ted’s car. Ted is just sitting up in his sleeping bag not moving at all. He just stares over at his ride. I think he’s in some sort of coma or something. It’s a good thing he’s in a coma because all the windows were smashed and his back seat that held the rest of the pig parts well, I never liked the upholstery anyway. The outside of the car was in even worse condition. Two of the tires were chewed right down to the wire mesh inside of them. There are more claw marks than paint left on his old red Chevy. It’s a good thing I talked him into taking his car out on this trip. I’d be really upset if something ripped my car up like that.

We were very fortunate that the creature did leave some evidence behind for us to examine. At first I thought Mike had something to do with it but, he flatly denied knowing anything about the large brown pile of evidence. Yes, the creature took time last night to relieve itself near Ted’s Chevy. Of course, this was no bear that did this. It was a hairy giant manlike thing that stood up on its hind legs while it ate pig and destroyed the red Chevy. I have waited my entire life to find evidence of this creature. Yes, I saw the creature Native Americans call Sasquatch also, known as Big Foot.

Epilogue
As we walked out of the woods I was elated. Not only did I prove there were no bears in Michigan but, I proved the existence of Big Foot. The camera on my cell phone was not working again however, I had in a plastic baggy the evidence I needed to show the scientific world, the quality of the research I do here in Northern Michigan.

We walked about a half mile down the old two track lumber trail then; I thought we had some more luck. We spied a Department of Natural Resources officer walking our way. Unfortunately, the news he had for us was grim. It seems it is illegal to bait bears on state land so I got a whopping ticket for that. My brother Ted received a citation for abandoning a dilapidated vehicle on state land. The worst news was that removing Sasquatch droppings from their natural habitat is also illegal so, I had to put the pile back where I found it. The officer confiscated my empty bag in case I tried to snitch a little bit of illegal Sasquatch droppings.

Well, at least we proved that bears don’t exist here in the lower peninsula of Michigan. I do want to warn everybody that you should not leave any pork parts in your car overnight. My brother Ted found out the hard way that Sasquatch can be really persistent when it comes to pork. Next time, Ted is going to keep any extra pork we have in his sleeping bag where it is safe.

22220

THE SKEGEMOG LAKE MONSTER

HUNTING THE SKEGEMOG LAKE MONSTER
By Tim Collin

Skegemog Lake is located in Northern Michigan and is visible from highway U.S. 72. Much of the lake is surrounded by a protect protected natural habitat, hiking area which is famous for the abundance of Michigan rattlesnakes. Rattlesnakes do not usually bother people but, they do not like to be stepped on. Someone once told me that the venom of the Michigan Rattlesnake is fifty times more powerful than most other rattlesnakes so, it must really hurt if you get bit.

A few days ago I read on the Internet that the rattlesnakes in Skegemog Lake have been hard to find lately. In addition, fishing has also been really poor there recently. When I talked about this at the bar yesterday a man from Midland Michigan said that the reason the fish and snakes are disappearing is because of the giant snapping turtles that live in the lake. One in particular is a monster over 20 feet long and is known by locals as “Old Skeggy”.I asked the man from Midland Michigan how he knew so much about the problem in Skegemog Lake. He said that he was a turtleolgist (someone who studies turtles). He introduced himself as Bugzy and said he’d be willing to mount an expedition to find Old Skeggy if I would put up the $15.00 to rent a canoe. I agreed to his terms and the next morning we were standing on the shore of Lake Skegemog with our aluminum canoe. I had my brother Mike accompany us because if we found Old Skeggy we were going to try to put a large fish net over it. I figured we could use an extra hand to haul in a giant snapping turtle.

As we neared the center of the lake we noticed lightning off in the distance. The clouds were really black and the storm seemed to be moving in our direction. My brother Mike was concerned that we might get hit because we were in an aluminum canoe. However, Bugzy said that the aluminum would conduct the lightning bolts away from our body and we were much safer than if we were in a fiberglass canoe. Besides, the fiberglass canoes were an extra $5.00 to rent for the day.

Mike also wondered why we did not have a more substantial boat to go after such a large monster. Bugzy pointed out that a canoe is more maneuverable than a large boar and we could get right up near shore if we had to. Besides, if a canoe is flipped over it is easy to flip it right side up. A larger boat would be nearly impossible to flip quickly and with rattlesnakes and giant turtles in the water, you want to get back in the boat as fast as possible if it flips. Bugzy further stated that he knew what he was doing because he was a scientist with a background in turtleology. With such credentials how could anyone argue with Bugzy?

Just as the black thunderheads started to roll in and rain began to sprinkle down, some large, massive saucer shaped object soared past us at no more than three feet away. The thing must have been 15 feet long. When the object got about twenty feet away, a head popped up and turned an eye back at us then, the head went back under the waves. The waves were getting bigger as the wind increased. The sky had turned totally black and the rain was wiping down on us as we sat in the middle Skegmog Lake.

Lightning bolts came down like spider legs all along the shore. My Brother Mikes’ hair became really kinky like he just had one of grandma’s permanents. Then, suddenly, the entire canoe was raised out of the water and we found ourselves traveling on top of the giant snapping turtle. He swam toward the shoreline at the speed of a motor boat. Mike and I just sat still hoping the thing was not going to eat us once we were closer to shore. Bugzy was busy pulling up the fish net we had laying in the canoe. I figured our turtleologist must have a plan to save us from certain death.

When our canoe was just about 50 feet from shore Old Skeggy sank down like a submarine and our canoe went riding off into shallow water. Mike and I jumped out of the canoe and ran for our lives until we reached shore. We turned around to see Bugzy with his net, trying to ensnare Old Skeggy. Bugzy managed to get the net over Old Skeggy but the turtle used his beak to slice through the net and swam off to deeper water. Bugzy walked slowly up to the shore with his head held low. He was so dejected that Old Skeggy had gotten away when we were so close to capturing him. Just as Bugzy stepped on shore the canoe was hit by several bolts of lightning at once and exploded. The orange glowing metal pieces feel back into the lake and sizzled as they sank to the bottom.

Mike was the first to speak and said that he thought Old Skeggy had saved our lives. Bugzy did not say another word until we had a couple of beers at the bar. Then he told us that he was going to give up turtleology and become a truck driver. Bugzy said that he had been a truck driver until Tuesday. That was the day he decided he would try being a turtleologist.

The only thing good about this adventure for me is that I did not end up paying a fine or having to do community service which, seems to be my usual reward for being curious about the out of doors and life in general. I did have to pay $300 to the canoe rental business for failing to take better care of the canoe.

We did not get bit by any rattlesnakes but, there is a giant snapping turtle in Skegemog Lake. I do not think he was trying to hurt us and in fact, he may have saved us. I also learned that turtleologist don’t know anything about lightning strikes. I leaned that just because someone is a genius in one scientific field it does not mean they know anything about any of the other sciences.

112023

FINDING AND AVOIDING QUICK SAND ALONG MICHIGAN RIVERS, LAKES AND, STREAMS

By Tim Colin
Editor
A Humor News Nuts Publication
A Division of Frank Humor and I.M. Nuts Inc.

Today we are going to be talking about a safety issue. Each year pretty much no one is reported drowning in quick sand in Michigan. Of course, the victims of quick sand submerging  are never found, nor are they ever heard from again. This makes it difficult to estimate the number of lethal quick sand incidents each year however, in Michigan alone I would venture to guess that at least a thousand, or so people disappear into the wet cavities of the earth each year. Since there are no apparent remains left after a quick sand incident, the only way the loved ones will ever know of a quick sand disappearance is by using a Ouija Board.

There may of course, be remains found one day of the victim. Perhaps in a million years or so a fossilized finger might turn up in someone’s tomato garden. Of course, the finder of said finger will admire it for a moment or two and then, toss the stone aside just as we do today whenever we find a fossilized animal or human bone in our garden.

Although there is a lot of science stuff regarding what quick sand is and how it is formed etc., etc., I decided the best way to explore quick sand is to go out and find some. I believe that a hands on approach to finding out about quick sand is much better than just reading some mumbo jumbo in a text book. Besides, how complicated could quick sand be? It is wet sand and if you step in it you go down in it and you become a permanent resident of the underground. Besides, I watched an episode of MacGyver where he got out of quick sand so, I pretty much know what to do.

A warning to the public: QUICK SAND IS VERY DANGERROUS SO, IF YOU WANT TO GO SWIMMING IN IT YOU HAD BEST NOT GO ALONE. I was able to get my brother Mike to come along with me on this trip. I promised him he could keep all the cans and bottles we found so he could turn them in for the deposit money.

We picked a fast moving river that ran through a swamp. It had been raining for over a week so the river was about three times deeper and moved much faster than usual. We each wore waders since sometimes the water went up to the crack under your knee caps. We waded down stream from where we were parked for over an hour but, we did not find any quick sand but, there was a lot of mud and bugs. If you opened your mouth, you could get a full course meal of bugs, with textures ranging from jellied to crunchy.

Finally, we had a little action. My brother had wandered off down river about a hundred feet or so when he lost his footing and was grabbed by the current and rushed down river over sharp rocks, sharp sticks and logs as hard as concrete. I smirked a little when he fell in but, when I saw his head bobble away down the rapids I decided I would be expected to at least go look for his body.

Just as I was moving along the river bank trying to figure out how I would explain my brothers demise to my parents and his new girlfriend, wouldn’t you know it, I stepped into some quick sand and was up to my waste in liquid earth. I immediately yelled for my brother Mike to come and save me in the off chance he had managed to save himself and could thus, save me. I yelled several times but, he never showed up so I knew I was on my own. I had a cell phone but, I knew it would be too late for me if I called for help. The best I could do with my phone was to take some pictures as I slowly sank to my doom.

I decided as I sank that I was not going to give up. I wanted to live to inherit some money from my parents one day. With my brother Mike and myself gone, my brother Ted would get everything. I just could not stand that thought. I had to find a way out.

The problem with quick sand is that MacGyver was right on his reality show: the more you struggle the more you sink. I was already up to my belly button and I knew I would not last long. I would have done something based on science like MacGyver but, I flunked chemistry in high school and took mostly PE and Wood Shop classes for electives.

Finally, I had some luck. An overhanging branch from a spruce tree was just in reach of my finger tips. Gradually, I worked my entire hand up the branch then; I grabbed the branch with my other hand and pulled my body up, out of my waders and safely onto muddy, but stable ground. I sat there a couple of minutes covered with mud. My shoes and waders were long gone so I would have to make my way back to the car with just my socks covering my feet. All I wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower and go to the bar.

When I got to the car, my brother Mike was there. He had a lot of cuts and bruises but, he was still alive. He told me that the river wound around back towards the pull off where the car was parked. Mike said that as he sailed past our car he grabbed onto a piece of brush hanging out over the river. He said he didn’t know how he was going to make it to shore since the current was so strong he couldn’t get his feet to touch the river bottom. Finally, his waders filled up with water and then the heavey boot ends sank like rocks to the river bottom. The bottom was just over waste high and with the added weight of the water in his waders, Mike easily walked back up to the shore.

I told Mike I had fallen into quick sand as I rushed to save him. I then asked him why he didn’t come when I hollered for him .He claimed he didn’t hear me scream. He said the rush of the river was so loud that my calls for help must have been drowned out.

In conclusion, you should be careful when looking for quick sand along Michigan’s rivers, lakes and, streams. If you do fall into quick sand hopefully there is a low hanging branch near by so that you can pull yourself out. You see, in woods of Northern Michigan, if you get into trouble,no one can hear you scream.

PP02242020

THE FRANKENMOOSE MONSTER

THE LEGEND OF THE FRANKENMOOSE
By Ted Collin
Associate Editor
Humor News Nuts

The legend has it that the Frankenmoose was created by a German surgeon and neurologist named Dr. Stein Franken. He was a Professor at The University of Michigan Medical School and lived near the town of Frankenmuth Michigan. Dr. Franken lived on a busy highway just out of town. There was a bend in the highway in front of Dr. Franken’s house and there were many fatal accidents.

Back in the 1980’s there was a terrible accident involving a circus truck, the tiger inside and, a large moose that leaped out onto the highway. There were body parts all over the highway. Some of the parts were from the human driver. Some were of the tiger that was on board the circus truck and of course, other parts were those of the moose.

Dr. Franken was drinking beer and sitting on his front porch when the accident occurred. He saw the truck speed around the bend and slammed into the moose that ran out from a corn field. Dr. Franken staggered out to the scene of the accident to look for survivors. The Doctor found lots of dead and dying body parts but, could not find enough of any one creature to keep alive. The Doctor decided that if there were not enough body parts to save any one creature, he would put the healthiest parts he could find together to form one animal. That creature would have the best parts and hence, the best chance of survival.

The resulting creature was something the world had never seen before. It had the legs and claws of a tiger, the trunk and head of a moose and, the ears of the driver. The creature also had a brain made up of human, tiger and moose brain cells the resulting creature was a true abomination. The creature had the antlers and torso of a moose, the face and claws of a tiger and the ears of the human truck driver. In addition, the brain was sewn together of almost equal thirds of human, tiger and, moose.


You may ask why Dr. Franken did what he did. Many believe that Dr. Stein Franken was a mad man that was taking the opportunity to experiment with life by bending the very laws of nature. Still others believe that Dr. Franken was operating in the most humane way he could and any person with his skill, placed in the same position, would have acted in the same manner. However, the fact that Doctor Franken was wearing Lederhosen and had just returned from a full day dancing the polka at a beer tent, leads most to believe the good doctor had greatly impaired judgment at the time of the accident. The fact that he had to be driven home from the beer tent seems to further bolster the idea that Dr. Stein Franken had a drinking problem that day.

Doctor Franken had a barn in his back yard where he assembled and then kept the creature. No one was aware of the creatures’ existence. There was such a mess on the highway that the body parts used to create the creature were never missed. . Meanwhile, the creature healed itself in the barn with Dr. Franken giving the creature a meat/ plant plasma substance in an intravenous tube. The doctor tried to nourish all the original animal parts. Each third of the brain had its own distinct cravings. The tiger craved fresh meat; the moose craved swamp grass and mauling people with its antlers and, the human wanted bratwurst, beer and football. These competing passions made the creature completely insane. At first, the creature seemed uncomfortable using the bathroom. Dr. Franken left the creature a little pot to help the monster feel more human. After that, the creature seemed to calm down and he no longer worried about where he relieved himself.

At first the creature seemed quite at ease with Dr Franken, his wife, and their children Celine and Angeles. The children rode the creature around the back yard. They played tag football with the monster and, they even invited it to join them in their nightly bratwurst cookouts. There as one sign of a potential problem. The doctor began to notice that small amounts of his grass were missing. He figured that the children were too young to be getting into his grass. His wife said she was not doing it. Besides, it was her grass too.

One night, during the family bratwurst cookout, the creature accidentally swished his tail across the fiery grill and his tail caught fire. The creature ran back and fourth across the yard until he finally drug his rump several feet across the grass dogie style. This put out the fire on the monsters tail but, it ignited a fierce insanity in the beast. The creature chomped down a bratwurst from the little girls’ hand, guzzled the entire keg of beer the doctor had for himself for the evening, then the creature bounded out into the vast acreage of corn fields that surrounded the doctors’ home.

The creature had escaped from the doctor and went from football stadium to football stadium hunting down uncooked bratwurst, kegs of beer and chased down fans that smelled like grass. The Frankenmoose chased after some of the fans if he smelled grass on their clothing. The monster would also rip up any AstroTurf he came across. Apparently the Frankenmoose felt that AstroTurf was an abomination not just because it tasted bad but, because it spoiled the game of football. Man was not made to play such a great sport on plastic grass. That is what I believe the Frankenmoose must have been thinking.

After several weekends of the above mentioned debauchery, several men in black suits showed up and slipped several million doses of a powerful sleeping pill into all the kegs of beer at every single football stadium in Michigan. The men dressed in black wanted to make sure that wherever the Frankenmoose attacked, he would be knocked out long enough to take him into custody. Their plan worked. The Frankenmoose, along with everyone else in the stadium except the young kids and the players, was found completely passed out at a Lions football game.

The monster was then taken away by the MIB and has never been heard from again. Dr. Franken and his wife have retired to Sutton's Bay Michigan. There they entertain friends and try to forget the tragedy that caused their family such great horror and sorrow. Their children also share the burden of their fathers’ mistake. Perhaps the greatest tragedy is that the Frankenmoose will forever make bratwurst an indigestible food for the Stein Franken family.

SOME CALL IT ROAD KILL; WE CALL IT SUPPER

Along Michigan Highways and byways, there are tasty treats waiting there for all of us human carnivores. Carcases and hunks of meat are just lying there to be eaten by the first person or thing, that passes by.

Many people believe that the many thousands of furry morsels are the result of animal mutilations by aliens from another world. Still, others believe that the large number of tar fried critters is the results of excessive speeds on long and lonely Michigan highways where, only the concentration needed for text messaging while driving at excessive speeds, keeps many drivers sane.

One restaurant in Northern Michigan that specializes in road found meats is called the Shoulder Side Brisket and Biscuit. Each morning before going to the restaurant he owns and manages, Chef Louie DeCorpsey heads along the highways of Northern Michigan with his Special 008 Department of Natural Resources licence to pick up the recently deceased dinner bargains.

Over the years, Chef DeCorpsey has served up the most incredible meals made from the strangest of animals. "Most of the time," Chef DeCorpsey explains, "I don't know what the stuff is I'm picking up. Sometimes I get whole steaks. Other times, it's just hamburger. If it's been lying around long enough, it may already be turned into a nice bisque. The only problem I have is that sometimes with the larger animals there is a lot of windshield glass embedded in the meat. Getting out the glass is time consuming however, for the price, I can't complain."

Chef DeCorpsey passes on much of his savings to his customers. His $1.99 Gag Me With A Spoon Skunk Soup is a favorite with the local people. One elderly lady commented "I haven't had such good skunk soup since my granny used to make it during the depression".

Raccoon Raspberry Cream Pie and Squirrel Turnovers are among the favorite desert dishes served up at this little gem of a restaurant located in Northern Michigan. Of course the Porky Pine Nettle Tea will send quills up your spine.

HUNTING LEPRECHAUNS IN MICHIGAN

By Ted Colin
Recently, my co-worker Gerrard and I went down to Mt. Pleasant to work on a story about co-eds and their behavior in night clubs that have live bands versus their behavior at night clubs that have a DJ. Gerrard had this theory that college women are more likely to go out on the dance floor and jump around if there is a DJ instead of a live band. I was kind of skeptical so, we thought we would do some research on Gerrard’s theory and then write an article about it. We figured we could get a room for a weekend in Mt. Pleasant paid for by our editor, my brother Tim. My cheap brother laughed at us as he said “No way you dumb…” Tim only uses colorful language when he talks about spending money.

It was just as well that Tim turned us down because I was able to borrow enough money from my brother Mike so that Gerrard and I could each get our own room. My brother Mike has a rich girlfriend that gave him a bunch of money. He claims his girlfriend is a vampire but, I don’t believe in such foolish stuff. Of course I really don’t care what she is as long as we got enough money out of Mike so that Gerrard and I can each have our own room. You need to have your own room when traveling with Gerrard because he always drinks too many beers then, he starts to drink shots and shooters and finally, he gets really sick for about two or three days. I think that’s why his mom makes him live down in the basement.

There are lots of motels and hotels to stay at in Mt. Pleasant. We stayed at one that had a night club in it with a large dance floor. This way we would not be driving while drinking. Just to make sure that we wouldn’t do anything stupid like try to drive somewhere after we were kicked out of the nightclub, I gave my keys to the front desk and asked them not to give me back the keys until the next day because I knew I would be unfit to drive anywhere. The front desk girl thought that I had a really good idea. I hoped I had scored some points with her since she was really nice looking. I asked her if she was going to be at the night club later on and she said she would and she’d look for me there.

I obviously scored some points with the front desk girl when I turned in my keys and showed her how responsible I was unfortunately, by the time she showed up at the night club I was already having problems standing and she quickly left the place after I accidentally fell on her. Evidently, she was not impressed. She should have been glad Gerrard didn’t fall on her because he weighs nearly twice as much as I do.

After watching the girls at the night club dance a little bit, the next thing I remember doing was wandering down the streets of a town called Clare. It was early morning and I could not figure out what had happened. Gerrard was also wandering around in a confused state. This little Irish town is located just about 15 miles North of Mt. Pleasant. Neither Gerrard nor I ever figured out just how we got there.
There was an Amish horse and buggy parked nearby and our shoes and pants were covered with horse manure. An Amish fellow also waved to us as he got in the cart and drove off. Maybe we hitched a ride. At any rate, we decided that we should find a place out of the cold. Luckily, Irish towns have plenty of pubs so we went in the nearest one and bellied up to the bar.

Gerrard and I didn’t want to spend too much money so we each ordered an Old Millpond draft. I was shocked because the draft was green colored. I said to the bartender, “What’s up with this? I never drank Old Millpond beer that was green like this.”

“It’s St. Patty’s Day. The beer just has green dye in it today, “replied the bartender as he busily unloaded his dishwasher.

I had forgotten that it was St. Patrick’s Day. I usually missed the holiday because I usually started celebrating way too early. After a couple of green beers I started to feel a bit more coherent. Gerrard also seemed to be coming out of his stupor. Then, Gerrard wondered out loud “I wonder if we can go hunting for leprechauns today. “

At that moment in time I thought maybe Gerrard had a good idea. “We couldn’t actually hunt one with a rifle since I left mine back home,” I said,” and, my lawn jarts are in the trunk of my car but, if we could capture one I think the DNR has some sort of reward for them.”

Gerrard finished off his beer and ordered up another one and said, “I think you get some sort of gold pot if you turn one in. I think that’s the bounty on them this time of year.”

The bartender brought over a frothy beer to Gerrard and said, “There, that’s your last beer for now. It’s only 9 o’clock in the morning and by the sound of things you fellows have already had too many. You need to sober up a bit so you can watch the big parade at noon today. There‘ll be leprechauns all over the place during the parade. ”

That was all Gerrard and I had to hear. We drank down our beers and just went pub crawling down the street for the next few hours. I was trying to steady myself on top of a bar stool when suddenly; I heard the blast of trumpets from a band. I used to play trumpet in High School so I know what they sound like. Gerrard was sleeping face down on the bar when I roused him to go outside to see if we could find a leprechaun to capture.

When we got to the sidewalk we witnessed a pretty good parade going by. It had floats and horses and marching bands. Then, suddenly, a whole bunch of leprechauns all dressed in traditional leprechaun cloths came marching down the street. The only thing odd about these leprechauns was that they were all pretty tall. Gerrard and I decided to go for the biggest one since we figured we’d get the biggest reward with his capture.

Mike came down from Traverse City and picked Gerrard and I up at the county building. There weren’t any charges filed against us but, we each got a pair of black eye shiners. The sheriff’s deputy explained that the guy we tried to capture was a national Golden Gloves champion and we were lucky he didn’t kill both of us with his bare hands. Mike took us back to our rooms at the hotel in Mt. Pleasant.

I think it is going to be a while before I go on another road trip. I’m not yet convinced that Mike’s girlfriend is a vampire but, she does have lots of money. That Jaguar Mike drives is a really nice car. I wonder if Mike’s vampire girlfriend has a rich vampire sister. Even if vampires bite, it is still better than getting beaten to death by the bare knuckle fists of a leprechaun.

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?

WARNING: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TRY ANY ACTIVITIES FOUND ON THIS BLOG. WE ARE INVESTIGATIVE PROFESSIONAL JOURNALIST. IF WE DON'T KNOW WHAT WE ARE DOING THAN WHO DOES? TRYING TO DO ANYTHING THAT OUR STAFF DOES IS PURE FOOLISHNESS. IN SUMMARY, ONLY FOOLS DO WHAT WE DO.

Back when we were young, my brother’s and I used to love a summer picnic. We had squash blossoms, road kill burger surprise and yard salad. Yard salad was made up of dandelion greens, wild onions, twigs, weeds and, grasses we found in the yard. We used to mix ketchup, mustard, salad dressing, vinegar and, orange tang together to make a dressing to put over our yard salad. Dad also used the dressing as a cure for his hangovers. Overall, the food was pretty good.

After a filling meal, we would often have to burn off some energy by playing summertime games. We sometimes would play horseshoe. This got to be kind of boring since we only had one shoe. We found the shoe when we went down the road to investigate a nearby summer music camp. The camp had horses for the kids to ride and evidently a horse left one shoe behind. It was “finder’s keeper’s loser’s weepers” so; we kept the shoe to play horseshoe.

Horseshoe was not our favorite pastime and, it was not the game we played the most. My family enjoyed a good game of lawn jarts just about every time we had a picnic. I remember us kids were really excited when dad found a set and a half of lawn jarts while we were foraging at the local land fill. Rich kids would go with their families each week to the K-mart store to shop. My family went to the local landfill every Sunday after the tourists dumped off their garbage and went home. We would just sort of look around for stuff. We would find household items like dishes and broken clocks. We would also find things like tools, cloths and when we were lucky, we would find toys. The land fill did take some getting used too. It looked like a big mess but, it smelled just like grandma’s kitchen. This smell put us at ease. When it started to get dark, dad would tell us to get a move on. He said that the bears would be there soon. There are of course no bears in Michigan. People always mistake Big Foots for bears.

Lawn jarts was such a great game that even mom and dad would play. We kids would play each other for Petoskey stones. Mom and dad would play for shots. Whenever one of them scored a point, the other one would have to drink a jelly shooter as a penalty. These shooters were like Jell-O shooters only we couldn't’t afford Jell-O. However, the relatives gave us lots of homemade jelly at Christmas time.

How do you play lawn jarts? Well, lawn jarts are like short spears with a long point on one end and a weight up near the point. The other end of the jart had a handle on it and just a little ways past the handle were plastic fins like the fins on a regular indoor dart. You would divide into two teams and each team had a plastic yellow ring that would be laid out several yards from each other. Each plastic ring was about two feet across and the way to score points was to stand at one ring and fling the jarts toward the other ring. Each time your jart stuck in the ground within the opposite ring, you would score a point. The first team to score 20 points or, the first team to have a parent fall to the ground and go to sleep, lost.

Because dad started downing penalty jelly shooters long before the game started, everyone wanted mom on their team. His team very seldom got to 20 points. We all piled on top of him to wake him up but, all he did was snore. If the next day were a work day he would always call in sick.

Lawn jarts, like the ones we had as kids are just about impossible to find now. I guess there was some sort of safety recall. It seems some people might have had accidents with the points of the lawn jarts. Instead of throwing the jarts at the yellow rings, people would accidentally toss the rings at the people standing near the yellow rings. We had our share of close calls, accidents, trips to the emergency room and near death experiences but, no one ever had an eye put out. I did get stabbed in the kidney and my brother Mike was stabbed in the foot. My brother Ted had one stuck in his head for a week before he finally had the gumption to pull it out. These were just minor injuries that bandages and duct tape took care of. Overall, lawn jarts was great summer fun. If I ever have kids, lawn jarts will be the first toy I find them at the land fill.

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.

HUNTING MUSHROOMS IN MICHIGAN OR, CALL A PARAMEDIC PLEASE!!!

By Tim Colin
You can't be a true outdoors person in Michigan unless you hunt for mushrooms. Mushrooms are common especially during the wet, sloppy season we call Spring. I have gone hunting for the elusive morel (yummy) mushroom since I was a kid. I have been well trained to identify morel mushrooms from the many species of mushrooms in Michigan that are poisonous even, deadly poisonous. So be warned, DO NOT ATTEMPT TO PICK MUSHROOMS UNLESS YOU HAVE BEEN TRAINED TO IDENTIFY THE EDIBLE FROM THE POISONOUS TYPES!!!

With the above in mind, I decided to take my brother Mike with me into the mushroom woods to teach him how to find and identify morel mushrooms. My brother is not stupid but, he has a very short attention span and a real problem with logical and coherent thinking. He wasn't too interested in looking for mushrooms so, I told him that you can meet some really nice babes in the deep woods. I meant to say "bears" but, the mention of "babes" seemed to get him interested in hunting mushrooms so, I didn't correct my misspoken word.

After about an hour thrashing around in the bush, I found zero mushrooms. My brother on the other hand, found a whole bag full of mushrooms. Unfortunately, they were not morel mushrooms. I had no idea what the mushrooms were and I said that it would be unwise to eat the mushrooms unless they were identified by someone more experienced in mushroom identification. My brother disagreed.

After a trip to the emergency room, a stomach pumping and two blood transfusions, my brother is now in stable condition. My brother did not farewell after eating mushrooms that he knew nothing about however, he claims he saw a lot of "babes" after chowing down on the little knobby fungi. I told him I think he was probably seeing angels. He responded "you're right, they were gorgeous".

"Whatever!", I replied.
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TROLLING IN NORTHERN MICHIGAN OR LIFE UNDER A BRIDGE

In Northern Michigan jobs are scarce and from time to time you may find yourself without an indoor residence. You can try to go camping in one of the parks or maybe just sleep in bathroom stalls but, the more experienced persons will tell you the best thing to do is to find a bridge and stay under it. Ones that are over rivers and streams are the best because you won't be rolling out into the traffic while you are sleeping. Bridges over steams and rivers also provide a good sourse of water to wash up in or just cool off.

If your bridge home is in a area of heavy foot traffic, you also have a good chance of getting a bite to eat if someone drops or throws their food over the side. Sometimes you can pick up change or cans with deposits on them under the bridge. This is great. In most homes people aren't going to throw money and food off the roof for you to have. I especially like the money because then I can go get a couple of 40 ounce beers to kick back with at night.

Nights are pretty cool under a bridge and you meet a lot of interesting people and animals. I once had a stand-off with a rabid skunk. It was neat how he was all wild eyed, foaming at the mouth and, barring his teeth at me.

People who live under bridges are often thought of as trolls like, in the Billy goat gruff story. In fact, we often call each other troll. When we see each other we might say "hey troll, how's it hanging?", or maybe we'd say "he's my main troll,". Don't ever say "she's my trollfriend," instead of "she's my girlfriend." Girls are a little more sensitive then guys at being called trolls. Of course the most important thing is that if you don't live under a bridge, don't call people who live under bridges trolls. It just isn't cool. It makes you sound like you are racially prejudiced against troll people.

Overall, trolling is an optional life style if you have no place else to go. Most people are on again off again trolls and don't always live under a bridge. You might just hang out there for the summer or, if your wife, girlfriend or parents kick you out of the house. Just remember that if you see a troll, just set that last bit of hot dog or sandwich down with the outside wrapper still on it. If you just drop your leftovers on the ground they get all sandy and gritty. That's bad for the digestive system.

Finally, I'd like to just mention the virtues of dumpster diving. In dumpsters you can pick up some pretty good eats for free but, you might have to fight off the sea gulls. I'd go into dumpster diving more completely but, I don't have the time. Finding your meals in dumpsters is quite a complicated science with what my brother calls a lot of caveats to it. So be good and stay cool troll. Maybe someday we'll be living under the same bridge together.

FISHING FOR THE MICHIGAN PIRANHA

By Mike Collin
Back when I was a kid, my dad would take me to his secret fishing hole and there he would teach me how to fish for piranha. He said he was the only one who knew about the spot. It seems that when he was a kid he stole his uncle’s pet piranhas and released them in a small lake way out in the woods. Over time, the piranhas took over the lake and were the only fish left. He told me these piranhas were an especially aggressive variety that were used to living in really cold water. My dad said that the piranha would eat ducks, geese, rabbits, deer or, any animal that happened to wander into the water.

I’ve been feeling like eating fish lately so, yesterday I rode my bike to my dad’s favorite piranha fishing spot in Western Lower Michigan. I had to ride my bike because my eyesight is still a bit blurry. I still have a bit of nerve damage from the accident. It seems that my brother Tim had a muscle spasm the last time we were playing lawn jarts. Well, the jart ended up being stuck in the middle of my forehead. I wanted to leave it stuck in because it made me look tough and it really impressed the ladies. You should have seen the looks I got at the bar. No one had a body piecing like the big orange spear I had in the middle of my head. After a couple of days I was getting really dizzy so I went to the doctor and she removed it. She told me the only reason I survived was that my skull was thinker than what most people have. I guess that‘s something to brag about.

Well, anyway, after going down an old two track lumber trail I got to lake I found out my can of worms was full of dead, smelly night crawlers. Luckily, there was a pile of rotten leaves nearby and it was not long before I had a couple dozen leaf worms. Before I picked up the leaf worms I had tossed the rotten night crawlers out into the lake to help chum for fish.

Unfortunately, no fish showed up and then I remembered how my dad taught me to fish for piranha. So, I took off my shoes and socks and waded out into the water until I was standing knee deep. It was a quiet morning so there were no waves. This made it easy for me t look around to observe any fish. I then began wiggling my toes in the water. I still did not see any fish coming. I then stated raising fist one foot up and then the other, each time wiggling my toes like little hairy caterpillars. Suddenly several dozen piranha came rushing in at my feet and began biting at my toes. I quickly ran back to the shore. Even though I was up on the shore I had three large piranhas holding onto my feet with their teeth. I was very pleased. I hadn’t been there five minutes and I already had a good start on a fish fry. I caught seven more fish on my fishing pole before my worms ran out. It was fine since I had enough fish to clean that day for a fish fry dinner for myself and my new girlfriend.

I did not end up bleeding too much after piranha fishing that day. I remember getting bit really bad by piranhas when I was a kid but, this time I only had a few chunks of meat bit out of my feet and shins. I also won’t have to cut my toe nails for a while. The piranhas, by the way, were delicious.