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Sunday, October 31, 2010

PSYCHIC NEWS NUTS: FIRST CONTACT

By Madam Misty Merkle
The Trailer Park Psychic

Things have been heating up here in Northern Michigan. It is not just the weather but, stuff really started happening last week which could change the course of history for my trailer park. I was told by some scientist from NASA that what happened to me could change the world forever.

To begin with, everyone knows that recently Congress made everyone give up their free TV unless you bought a converter box from one of the companies that buys nice gifts for Congressmen, or pays for their vacations. Anyway, these boxes are called “perverter boxes” but, no one in my trailer park has figured out how to get a perverter box to work yet. I think this was a big rip-off since the perverter boxes cost a lot more than the coupon the government sent out. Everyone has been thinking that these perverter boxes are a big rip off then, old Chuck Birdsill came up with an idea. He said we should use aluminum foil to try to get in the new airwave signals: the same way we used aluminum foil to get in the Fox Network 20 years ago.

Chucks’ initial idea was not new. Everyone in Northern Michigan has been buying up aluminum foil to try to get a reception on their now, worthless TV sets. No one in my trailer park has to lock their doors anymore since the only valuable thing people here ever owned was their TV set. Now everyone hopes someone comes in and steals their TV so at least they might get some insurance money. Most of the people aren’t buying any insurance yet until after someone steals their Television. Everyone knows it is stupid to buy insurance before something happens. Why pay out all that money unless you are going to get more back on a claim you file as soon as you take out the policy?

As I said before, Old Chucky Boys’ initial idea was not at all original but, ’as several people who had tried to use aluminum foil pointed out. No one got any signal. But, someone in the trailer park with some smarts (probably one of those stuck up community college people) did have I think, a pretty good idea.

The idea was to build a giant tower made up of aluminum foil in the middle of the trailer park. We would connect the four trailers that are in the middle of the park and form our own giant antenna. The smart guy said the aluminum foil would pick up the signal and the trailers would amplify it so that everyone in the park would get to watch free TV again. The smart guy said he doubted we could pick up any local stations but, maybe we might get some Canadian stations in after all, Canadian TV is just a bunch of rebroadcast American TV shows anyway.

Within one week, we had saved up enough aluminum foil to build a thirty foot tall tower. We had a problem with sea gulls pecking away at the aluminum because most of it was recycled from our kitchens and still had food on it. We solved this by spraying the whole thing down with bathroom cleaner. This got rid of the sea gulls but, now the trailer park smells like a public restroom at a fast food restaurant. A clean one like you find in the morning not like the kind you find in the afternoon after the high school kids have been in their for lunch.

Anyway, once the tower was done and hooked up to the four trailers, we all sat in anticipation in front of our TV sets with our French/English dictionaries beside of us in case we got in one of those Montréal stations. But, nothing happened. All the TV sets in the trailer park just had static snow on them. We were all disappointed and depressed. Every resident in the trailer park met at the great shinny metallic tower. All that work for nothing.

As we were standing around sulking, I suddenly felt a buzzing in my teeth. The buzzing became louder and louder. I opened my mouth and everyone started looking at me as a voice began to speak from my mouth “Hello People of the Planet Earth. Live Long and Prosper. We are the Receptacons from the planet Receptor. We scan the Universe for highly technical devices that can receive our signals at faster than light speeds. You earth people have finally built such a device. You must be the most intelligent beings your planet has ever produced. You should be proud of yourselves. We will now transmit the blue prints to build a device to transmit and better receive signals from our civilization. We will also be transmitting the formula for eternal life. Please stand by.” Unfortunately, at that moment the brandy and orange juice drink I had for breakfast kicked in and I started to burp uncontrollably. I was not able to keep my mouth open without belching and drowning out the message. Finally I stopped but most of the message was never heard. The last words we heard were “if you accept our offer to keep in contact with our please contact us within a week on the new device you will construct from our blue prints. If we do not hear from you we will never bother you again but, you can keep our formula for eternal life as a gift from our people to yours.´

That was it. We haven’t heard from them since. NASA spent 11 billion dollar tryig to construct something that might pick up the signal from the Receptacons but, nothing happened. It seems the reason the message came out of my mouth is because of my gold crowns. It seems they are not really gold at all. My dentist bought some gold crown stuff off the internet from some lady in china. The crown material was really made up of a composite of American garbage like old baby diapers, clunker cars and drywall. The NASA scientist told me that I had in my mouth the makings of a space age material which was what brought our aluminum foil tower to life. One scientist told me the material “made the tower light up like a beacon across the cosmos”. I let NASA have my baby diaper composite crowns in exchange for some nice porcelain ones.

Our aluminum tower never brought any other signals in. In fact, just before we tore it down a bolt of lightning struck it. The lightning leaped to the four trailers, caught them all on fire and burned them to the ground. Luckily no one was hurt inside the trailers and, the owners went immediately out and bought fire insurance so they should be o.k.

Monday, October 25, 2010

DON’T BE THE VICTIM OF A VAMPIRE

By Madam Mystic Misty Merkel
It is easy to become the victim of a vampire. Too many people do not stay alert and vampires are so sneaky. You almost need eyes in the back of your head. You have to be constantly looking around to make sure that there are not any pasty white fanged monsters creeping up on you. Vampires are like credit card companies; once they sink their teeth into you then you are theirs for life.

Watching out for vampires is especially important this time of year. Vampires are just now starting to arrive back in Northern Michigan from their summer homes in Cancun Mexico. Of course after a long flight the vampire is very hungry for the red stuff and I don’t mean wine. Once back here the vampires quickly open up their private clubs where they meet and have a warm mug of blood. The high class vampires mix expensive wines with their blood and usually drink only the blood of rich yuppie Chicago bankers and movie actors.

These guys are easy prey for vampires since they are out on their yachts most of the time which, means that they are stranded out in the middle of Lake Michigan. I can’t imagine the fear someone must have looking at some vampire monster swooping down on your yacht way out in the middle of nowhere. You’d have just a few seconds to decide if you wanted to be bitten by a vampire or take your chances in the water with the sharks. The choice is between being eaten by sharks and dying or, becoming a powerful creature that lives forever and can shape shift into an animal or a really beautiful human being. What a dilemma the rich and famous face every time they spend a night on their luxury yacht.

Luckily, if you are like me and are unemployed and live in a low cost trailer park out in the backwoods then, you won’t have any vampire hunting you down for your vintage name blood. Still, there are always vampires passing over at night and you never know when one of them might drop in for a snack. That is why you need protection.

Many people believe that you can stop a vampire by hanging up a cross in your doorway. This might work if you vampire is a Catholic but, what if your vampire is Jewish or, Hindu or, some other religion or practices no religion at all. You could not hang up enough different religious symbols to keep out all vampires. If I hung up all the different religious symbols in my doorway it would pull this entire trailer down on my head. I honestly don’t know how the laws of gravity seem to be suspended in regards to this trailer. I’m afraid to sneeze in here because the sudden change in air pressure might blow out the walls.

In truth, the only real way to keep away blood suckers is to put lots of garlic all over your home. Vampires don’t like garlic so it might not be a bad idea to eat a few cloves before you go to bed at night. I’m working on getting a patent on anti-vampire toothpaste based on garlic oil. I figure the garlic will keep vampires from biting you and it will also keep away co-workers and nagging family members. If you work in a store the garlic aroma from your breath will definitely keep customers from bugging you. If the toothpaste catches on I intend on patenting a garlic flavored mouthwash too.

Overall, vampires are sneaky beasts and the only way to keep them and other undesirables away is by smelling like garlic. Garlic breath is an easy way to keep the bad guys away and I recommend my soon to be distributed Madam Misty Merkel’s “PASSION GARLIC TOOTHPASTE TM”. I use the word “PASSION’ in the name because “passion” sells. The original name was “STINK BREATH GARLIC TOOTHPASTE” but, “stink breath” was unpopular with test subjects.

Finally, just be careful out there. And, please remember to buy my vampire repelling toothpaste. If I sell enough of it I might be able to move out of this crummy trailer park to the nice park down the road. It has newer doublewides in it. After all, living in a newer doublewide is the American dream of the 21st century.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

DEER HUNTING IN NORTHERN MICHIGAN TO BE A FLOP THIS YEAR

By Madam Misty Merkel
I am afraid I have to predict that the deer hunting season in Northern Michigan is going to be terrible. I consulted by ancient Petoskey stones and they told me that because Canadians keep driving their pet bears down to lower Michigan and releasing them, the deer population will be devastated. All their tame deer in Canada were raised on reindeer. Canada has a huge reindeer population and Canada supplies most of the reindeer for store Santa's in the United States. So, when a tame Canadian bear gets down here the first thing it sniffs for is reindeer venison. Ergo there go the deer.

I guess people in Northern Michigan will have to rely on eating wild pig food this winter. It is either that or we are going to have to get jobs.

Friday, October 15, 2010

THE HAUNTED BOAT IN THE TRAILER PARK

By Mystic Madam Misty Merkel
PART I
I am drenched. I just got back from a swim in Lake Michigan. Swimming around out in Lake Michigan while holding onto a piece of driftwood to stay afloat while several sharks are circling, is no way to spend a Saturday afternoon. I suppose I am lucky because there were so many lightning strikes all around me that it kept the sharks stirred up too much to make me into a meal. I was so afraid of the lightning being attracted to my metal jewelry that I even tossed my rings that were made out of genuine nuclear charged cadmium imported from a power plant in China. My very special rings glowed all the way down to the bottom of Lake Michigan. I was just lucky the coast guard came along and picked me up or I might have ended up dinner for one of those sharks.

I can’t believe I ended up in the drink today. Yesterday I was looking forward to spending my Saturday taking an adult education class on palm reading at the local community college. The government was paying for it since palm reading is considered “one of those skills needed to revitalize America while changing it into a servant economy“. I guess I got that quote right. I’m trying to remember it from the brochure.

Well, I was just sitting there at my kitchen table contemplating on my palm reading class and having my usual early morning Irish coffee when someone started pounding on my door. When I opened the door I was surprised to see about ten of my neighbors standing there. “We need your help Madam Misty,” one of them called out.

“We have a really bad problem” another voice cried.

“What in the world is wrong?” I asked.

Marcie Wrinklebottom sobbed “It’s my dead husband Frank. He’s come back from the grave. He spent all last night a hollering and screaming on his old boat. Everyone in the trailer park heard him. Didn’t you? ”

Marcie Wrinklebottom lived about four trailers down from me. Next to her trailer was parked a big old wood fishing boat that used to belong to her late husband Frank. Now Frank spent most of his marriage on that boat. He seldom took it out on the Great Lakes but, he spent most of his time drinking beer and smoking in the cuddy cabin while the boat sat beside the trailer. Frank always complained that he had never caught any fish out on Lake Michigan. He said his dream was to come back home with a great big salmon that he had caught on the shoals of Big Manitou Island. I guess that is where old Frank liked to fish. Anyway, the last time Frank went out there was a terrible storm and the boat ended up crashed up on the shoreline with a big hole in its bow. The widow Wrinklebottom had the boat parked beside her trailer. She figured that if Frank ever showed up again he would feel at home seeing his old boat parked in the spot it had sat in for the better part of 20 years.

I knew what these people wanted. They obviously wanted me to use my psychic abilities to contact Frank to see what the old fellow wanted. So, I told them that I would go on board the boat that night and talk to old Frank and see what he wanted so his spirit could move on to great beyond and/or rest in peace or something. The main thing was to just get old Frank out of the trailer park so everyone living here could have a little peace and quiet. My agreeing to contact Frank Wrinklebottom seemed to calm everybody down. I of course got my most powerful spiritual items around to use during the séance. My most powerful physic items are of course my Petoskey stones I also had to a lot to do that day to get ready for the séance. I had to make a trip to the dollar store and buy about a hundred candles. Ghosts seem to be big on mood lightning so naturally you have to have candles.

Unfortunately, the only person I could get to help me with this spiritual conundrum was an associate of mine at the Humor News Nuts organization. His name was Gerrard and boy, is he a real strange guy. He lives in his mother’s basement. He also raises rats down there. He inherited the rat business from his old man when he died. His grandparents were famous for raising worms and bloodsuckers (leeches). In short, Gerrard comes from a family of persons who I consider not quite right in the head. At the last minute, Mrs. Wrinklebottom decided not to attend the séance. She said the whole thing would be just too upsetting for her so she would just stay in her trailer and wait for us to tell her what had gone on.


PART II
Everything was ready for the séance. I had set the candles out around and inside the boat. It took a while to light them all but, Gerrard and I finally got the candles to burn. They were cheap, probably old candles that I picked up at the dollar store. The widow Wrinklebottom only gave me $50.00 for supplies to be used during the séance to contact her late husband Frank. I bought the 2/$1.00 tapered candles but, I couldn’t get them all the same color. Some spooks are particular about having the candles match but, I figured that since Frank considered himself to be some old salty seadog that he wouldn’t be too fussy.

Gerrard set up a card table and a couple of chairs onboard the boat. Gerrard and I sat down in the chairs with the Petoskey stones on the table and candles burning all around us. The candles were not only of several different colors but, had several different scents. I figured it smelled a bit like a funeral home so I hoped a spook like Frank would feel relaxed. His body was never found so maybe he’d figure we were giving him the send off he never got and would just leave everyone in the trailer park alone.

We waited until just after the sun went down then, lo and behold who should appear but, old man Frank Wrinklebottom in person (but, not in the flesh). He was kind of a faded out apparition. After a couple of moments he started to have a little bit of color. At least I could tell what he was wearing. He had a captain’s hat on along with a plaid short-sleeved shirt and white pants. He wore laced up sneakers and white cotton socks. After 20 years I thought his clothes looked pretty clean. For a spook he was also well shaven. A lot of ghosts that live on boats like to look a bit grizzly with regards to facial hair in order to achieve that “come hither” supernatural effect. At least that’s been true since the show “Miami Vice”. Waterfront spooks all think that they’re some sort of Don Johnson.

I was starting to get a bit perturbed because Frank just stood there not saying a thing. After all the work I did setting up the séance and now Frank was going to pull some sort of mute ghost twenty question guessing game on me. Some dead people want you to guess what is bothering them and then they will answer you with a knock or moan or chill or some other stupid answer. I decided to be direct so I asked, “So Frank, now that you’ve got us here what the heck do you want? You‘d better answer me directly with real words and sentences. If you don’t speak plainly then, I‘m going to blow out your candles and then I’m going home. I‘ve had a long day and I‘ve got a class on palm reading to attend tomorrow. I‘ve already paid for the class and I won‘t get reimbursed by the government for job retraining unless I actually attend the full three hours of it.”

The ghost must have been moved by my speech because he said in a very plain voice, “I’ve come back from the grave because I want to go fishing. I need to go fishing on this boat and off the Coast of Big Manitou Island. In short, I need to catch a fish. I also need to do something else but, I forget what it is right now. I just know I’ve got to go fishing and I won’t stop haunting your trailer park until you take me.”

The old ghost of Frank Wrinklebottom seemed to be begging like a little kid. I had no choice but to agree to take him on a fishing trip the next morning. “One more thing,” the ghost said as I was blowing out the candles and getting ready to leave, “make sure my wife Marcie is on the boat with us. I really want her along to watch me catch my first fish.”

PART III
The next day Marcie Wrinklebottom, Gerrard and, I drove up to Northport Harbor. Some guys in the trailer park put boats in and out of the water for a living. They patched the boat and had hauled it up to Northport ahead of us so they could ready it and get it launched. One big problem we had was that the engine on the boat had set up and would not turnover. The boat launch guys said they had a small aluminum boat that they could use to pull the boat out to the Manitou Islands as long as the seas didn’t get too rough.

When we arrived at the harbor we found that our boat was ready and waiting for us. We climbed aboard and the little tin boat started to pull us out of the harbor. We were on our way to Manitou Island. The water was calm that morning so it didn’t take too long before we were far enough out that I decided to wake up our ghost to see if he was ready to go fishing. I and Gerrard went down into the cuddy cabin to summon Frank. Marcie did not want to go down below to see her departed husband. It took the whole neighborhood to persuade her to go on this trip. I wasn’t sure if Marcie was afraid of water or if she really did not want to see her husband Frank. I thought she would like to talk to him after all; she kept his old boat right beside her trailer for twenty years. She wanted to keep an eye on his old tub but, she insisted on staying topside when she finally had a chance to reunite with her old love.

Once down below deck, I lit a candle and Frank immediately appeared. I had Gerrard go up on deck with him. There was a fishing line all set for Frank to use. I only hoped Frank would catch a fish. While Frank and Gerrard were up on deck I decided to nose around in the cuddy cabin. There was something really wrong with this whole operation. Frank and Marcie were both holding back about something and I wondered what it was. I figured the sooner I found out the sooner I could get back to shore and to may class. I still had a few hours before my palm reading class started and I was hopeful that I could still make it.

As I was looking around, Gerrard bounded down the steps into the cabin. When he reached the bottom of the steps he said, “It’s starting to get a bit rough out. It was nice out when we left but I think a storm is starting to form right over head. You know there is something I should tell you about this area.”

“And what is that Gerrard?” I asked.

“Well Madam Misty, we’re in what is known as ‘The Devils Trapezoid‘. This is an area that is outlined by connecting on a map the Little Manitou Island, the Big Manitou Island, the town of Northport and, the town of Benzonia. Thousands of boats, ships and planes have mysteriously sunk to the bottom of Lake Michigan in these waters. There have been a couple of nasty train wrecks on the shoreline as well. A hot air balloon sprung a leak here last summer. I think you get the picture. Now, we are out here on a ghost ship with a ghost and a storm is forming right overhead. I believe we are in trouble.”

I had to agree with Gerrard. Gerrard was a Ghost Scene Investigator so I did have to respect his opinions when it comes to wayward spirits. Gerrard agreed to help me look around the cuddy cabin for some clues. Unfortunately, Gerrard stumbled across a really bad thing. In what looked to be a closet Gerrard came across a full human skeleton dressed just like Frank Wrinklebottom. This particular skeleton was hanging up with a fish fillet knife through the rib cage. It was obvious that Frank hadn’t gone overboard and drowned but, had instead been murdered. The prime suspect for the murder was up on the deck right now. I was wondering how Frank and his wife might be getting along when suddenly, the patch in the hull broke open and the cuddy cabin began to flood.

Gerrard and I ran up to the deck. Lightning was flashing all around us and the boat was being thrown about on waves that seemed to be going in every direction at once. We were in the perfect storm. I looked around but, Frank and Marcie were both gone. Evidently, Frank must have taken Marcie overboard. Now his boat was sinking and the two guys in the dingy were no where to be seen. The next thing I knew I was in the drink. A Piece of a branch floated by so I grabbed it. The boat and Gerrard were now gone. I was all alone in the storm hanging onto a small piece of wood. I was having a really bad day. I knew that I would never make it to my palm reading class. I was so disappointed that I would never get reimbursed from the government for the money I spent on the class.

Finally, a fishing boat pulled me out of the water and took me back to port. Gerrard and the two guys with the dingy were there. They guys said that they didn’t see me out there. They also said that Gerrard was so heavy that after they pulled on board their small boat it was almost under water. They then hurried in before lightning turned their aluminum boat into an aluminum fry pan. It seems the only person that didn’t make it back was Mrs. Wrinklebottom. Her husband had set this whole fishing trip up as just a way to get her out on the water so he could get his revenge.

Unfortunately for me I missed my palm reading class and I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to get a refund for it. I know one thing for sure and that is that I am never going back out on Lake Michigan again. I’m not even going to eat fish anymore. All my cans of tuna are going to go to the neighbor’s cats.


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The opinions and ideas expressed on this blog are those of the Psychic and not those of the Humor News Nuts organization.

HNS has a long tradition of associating with persons who have thought processes that are unusual and even weird. We pride ourselves in our diversity of persons with mental irregularities. This diversity allows us to cover stories that no other news organization will investigate let alone, ever put in print.

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