EXPERT SAYS PETOSKEY STONES ARE ALIEN BRAIN CELLS THAT DESTROYED THE DINOSAURS

Ted Colin

Junior Editor/Contributor

a humor News Online Publications

What do we really know about the Petoskey Stone? We know it is only found in a very specific region on the planet Earth. That region is Northern Lake Michigan extending up to Lake Superior. Several sites on the internet explain that the petoskey stone is a fossilized coral from the Devonian Era which would make the stone approximately 350 million years old. We have found someone with a very different opinion.

In an old gravel pit about ten miles west of Traverse City, there is a Petoskey stone dig site managed by Professor I. M. Alyar. Professor Alyar teaches Paleontology, Astrophysics, Alien Psychology and, Human Proctology at the Bare Truth Online Institute of Education and Adult Photo Journalism.

We caught up with Professor Alyar at the dig site to ask him about the theory he was advocating regarding the origin of the Petoskey Stone. The Professor had previously contacted us and said he would pay us $50.00 to publish a story about his “Origin of the Petoskey Stone” theory. After some intense negotiations, the Professor also agreed to pay for our gas. The following is an outline of the theory as he explains it:

“The Petoskey Stone came to my attention as I noticed that people were making a lot of money picking up these stones and selling them on EBay and to tourists. I remembered that my uncle I. Ben Alyar owned this old gravel pit where I picked up petoskey stones as an under graduate student. It then occurred to me that I could get a government grant that would pay me a salary to do research on the petoskey stone for a couple of years. So last year I began digging up petoskey stones for research and the extra stones I sell for money (cash only, no receipt if you want any).

Well, last week I received a letter from the government wanting to know why I haven’t published any papers on my findings. The letter went on to say that if I were fraudulently obtaining grant money that I could be prosecuted if I did not return the money with interest. I like most people in Michigan have a penchant for Black Jack so; I have no money to give back and no published paper.

Then, suddenly it hit me. As I was in the bar located out on the highway, I suddenly realized that the petoskey stone seemed to look a lot like a piece of gray brain matter. But, not just any gray matter. Animal gray matter does not have those eyes. Then, I realized that those were not eyes but, they were individual cells. These were cells to the brain of some incredible creature. Brain cells of incredible size that must have belonged to a massive brain. This brain had died 350 million years ago and had been fossilized over time. It all made sense. Over eons of years, glaciers broke up the fossil and scattered brain cells all across Northern Michigan.

But, I asked myself, where does this giant brain come from? There is no evidence in the fossil records to indicate this creature ever existed. Finally, I concluded that this creature was not of this world. It was in fact a creature from outer space that most likely died upon impact with our planet over 350 million years ago.

The fact that the creature had or was a giant brain means it must have been physic. This makes sense because many physics use this stone for healing or to go into trances to see the future. I should charge more money for the stones I sell. Perhaps a medical research facility will be built in my name to study the medical uses of the Petoskey Stone.”

Because the Professor kept rambling on, I shut off my recorder. We of course believe everything he postulated. True to our word, we are publishing his theories now. A couple of days ago the Professor was arrested. This is too bad because we were thinking of making him our official scientific advisor. Yesterday I received a call from the Professor asking if I would use the $50.00 he gave me to help bail him out of jail. I told him that unfortunately, I was a problem gambler and lost the money playing foosball.

ODE TO THE PETOSKEY STONE
By I. M. Alyar
Oh vain,
Petoskey stone,
Are you an alien brain,
Or seaweed bone,

Why do you lay,
And splash on the beach?
Have you something to say?
Have you something to teach?

Maybe your looks,
Can make me some pay,
I'll polish you up,
To sell on eBay.

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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 SANTA SECRET TOY FACTORY IN MANCELONA MICHIGAN

By Mike Colin
This year I’ve decided to find out why Santa Claus quit bringing me presents when I was twelve years old. That year all I got for Christmas was a pair of socks. My dad wasn’t working at the time and my parents told me that a pair of socks was all they could afford. “Besides,” my parents said, “you need socks because the sock monster keeps gobbling up your socks in the cloths dryer.” I asked them why I did not get any presents from Santa and they both said I was too old to believe in Santa anymore.

That did not make since to me. If Santa never existed why would everyone tell kids that Santa was going to bring them presents if they were good? Why lie about such a thing as the existence of the jolly old elf? I was traumatized for years.

It has been more than ten years and I still believe in Santa and I am going to find out why he quit coming to my house and giving me presents. I know my brothers are both evil and never deserved any presents. I could see why Santa finally wised up and quit bringing them stuff but, I was different. I was always really good and I never lost faith in his existence.

This year I read somewhere that Santa has a secret toy factory about 50 miles from here in a small town called Mancelona. It seems he purchased an old factory that used to make cheese and now he makes lots of old fashioned, environmentally correct toys. People say that Santa set up a factory in Mancelona because it is beautiful here in Northern Michigan and a great place to live. Consequently, Santa can pay his elves a lot less money if they work here versus working up above the artic circle. Here we have low pay but a view of the bay. At the North Pole you get a bigger slice of the pie but, if you go outside you die.

Today I drove over to Mancelona and stopped into their old cheese factory. The windows are all boarded up but, I went up to a door on the side of the building and wrapped on it. Suddenly, a shaggy elf appeared in the doorway. It took me a couple of minutes but then, I recognized the little guy was area resident and celebrity the Easter Bunny. He stood in the doorway holding a wrapped package with a bow on it. “Hi,” he said, “I’m not allowed to let anyone in but, Santa wanted me to give you this Christmas gift.” Mr. Bunny handed me the gift and then shut the door.

So there I stood with the package in my hand. I went back home and decided to open it even though it is not Christmas yet. I was surprised to find a pair of socks inside with a note from Santa. The note said:

“I’m sorry I missed getting this present to you when you were twelve years old. Twelve is the normal cut off but our computers were down that year and we thought you were 13 at the time. Again, I’m sorry we missed you on the last Christmas that you qualified for a gift from Santa. Please accept this gift I’ve been holding for you all these years. I know how poor your family is so I thought I would get you something that would help keep your little toes from getting frost bite during the long Michigan Winters.

Sincerely,
Santa Claus”

I have been elated all the rest of the day. Santa really did care about me and it was just a problem with his computer that caused him to not deliver my present. From now on I will always give a strong testimony to the existence of Santa. The only question I have left is why Michael Moore was over in Santa’s workshop and are there more celebrities in the old cheese factory? I wonder.