All posts by Marsha Mellow

Bio of Marsha Mellow by Marsha Mellow I knew I wanted to be a famous writer from the time I was a little girl (my high school cheerleading career was never going to pan out). Originally I thought I'd write books but growing up in a conservative, gated community in Texas left me with NO creative ideas, so I chose corporate journalism. My daddy (I think he was an Exxon climatologist) made sure I got the finest education money could buy, although he seemed disappointed when I finished with a degree instead of a husband. My meteoric rise in journalism began as an unpaid intern at my hometown weekly, The Village Gossip, writing garden party reviews (very high brow stuff). From there I went to The Star Tribune where I won the 'perkiest obituary award' 6 years running. But I really hit it big at Newscorp, typing bottom-scroll news alerts on live cable T.V. I was a perfect fit at FOX...but that ended abruptly when my boss's wife objected to our afternoon "production meetings" at the Parkway Motel. Oh well, who cares about a silly bunch of torture, illegal wars and drone terrorism anyway? I spent the next seven years as a copy writer for the pharmaceutical industry, doing side-effects disclaimers for all the new drugs. My favorite was "...may cause anal discharge from the naval." Ooooh, but those were good times...doing god's work...with endless free samples... When a bizarre set of stories about Clowns piqued my curiosity, I saw a golden opportunity to do some REAL, Fox level, journalism and exploit the hell out of them. Clowns were an already marginalized population of simpletons...easy money. Of course, having to associating with 'those' freakish people was a little out of my comfort zone...and I ran into technical problems which forced me to partner with an 'artist' (the only creatures I loathe more than Clowns, Ugh!) but this was an important story and I expected it to bring me the fame and fortune I deserved. Ultimately, Clown stories don't measure up to celebrity sex scandals and outed congressmen in the mainstream news, so my work never went to press. A BOOK of Clowns, however, seemed a perfect consolation....and put me right back on track to fulfill my earliest childhood dreams. Coming soon, "Marsha Mellow's Blue-ish Freaks." Bio of John Allemand by Marsha Mellow A lot of people like John’s art…but he’s really not the sort that ‘respectable’ people should get to know. He’s been known to associate with circus people (Clowns!), has arguments with random body parts (spleens!) and has an ugly prejudice against sentient technology (robots!). He’s certainly not the type you’d “want to have a beer with” like George W. Bush. In utero, John had a conjoined twin brother attached at the buttocks but by the time he was born, his twin had been completely absorbed..…except for its tiny, powerful brain. Being the dullard of the two, John naturally deferred all of his higher thinking to his (lower) smarter brain. I often say that most of his best ideas come straight out of his ass. He was born in East Orange NJ, the youngest of 16 and despite a typical American public school education, he came away with a deep appreciation for diverse cultures and ideas - a freakish critical thinker…very disappointing. A few years later, however, he learned to suppress his personal integrity and craftsmanship as it made him a pariah among his peers and a liability to his clients. Lowering himself into the sleaze of corporate advertizing, he convinced himself it was all worth it ‘for the sake of the kids’ (which it wasn’t). John had a spectacular 30 year career in film & animation doing amazing work on some of the worst T.V. shows and dangerous commercials ever made. He was a master of selling useless crap to gullible people. When the corporate art industry collapsed under austerity, he retired to follow his passions. In Costa Rica he became a Free-Range Guacamole Rancher but something in the water caused a partial rebirth of his twin brother through his scrotum. In Kalamazoo his 'Shits and Giggles' Gourmet Taco Truck was a raging success until he sold it to a fellow with one leg named Willy when local Taco Mobsters made threats on his yet unnamed legs. In Weehawken, he became a live organ collector for Morty’s Door-to-Door Coffin Emporium...but was fired for sampling the merchandise. He caught the itch for art again in Flushing, as a happy-face painter at Herbies Corpus’ Human Taxidermy. He left to become a urinal cake decorator for Jakes Kakes in Coxsackie, New York (still giggles when he hears "Coxsackie"). When I finally tracked him down (milking bulls at the County Fair in Sheboygan) I offered him a job (and a hot shower) on the spot. Despite my personal dislike for his kind, real artists are hard to find now-a-days and he was my best and only hope for illustrating my extraordinary projects. It took some maneuvering but once I got him to sign my (clever) contract we set off, that very night, across America for a one month research road-trip…..and didn’t return for 10 years. What we discovered and documented in our search for Clowns, Freaks and Oddies is quite amazing.....but to learn more, you’ll have to buy my books. These days, John spends his time illustrating for me, desperately searching for a way out of our contract (ha ha ha!). He often dreams of becoming a spotted pink rhinoceros while his sharper twin brother plots to take over the world.

Briny Brown

Briny Brown-81Briny Brown was a giant clown,                                                                       roughly the size of a tiny town.                                                                               We know this now ’cause he tripped and fell down…                            and flattened the place to the ground.

From the heiney of Briny,                                                                                              a clown quite tiny,                                                                                                             emerged, disheveled and slimy.                                                                                 As he staggered around, he said with a frown,                                                 “Holy crap!…I’m alive!!  Go’ blimey!!!”

***It’s tax day in America, the day on which none of us can evade complicity.  -Marsha

Potty Mouth

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Something in the smell wafting from the bathroom told me that things were going badly.  The crap being shouted was definitely not appropriate for television.  Negotiations had broken down and a strike was well underway.  Worse…the strikers were in open revolt,  flinging their sacred deposits all over the walls and ceiling.  The trust between us was broken.  Innocents were soiled, stained and who knew if the scars would ever heal…..but all that was secondary to the fact that…I really had to go.  I REALLY had to go — BAD!

Shamefully, in typical corporate fashion, I snuck out to the back yard, found a tree and used it like a primitive monkey.  Disgusting.  Yes, I found a cheap scab replacement to the striking toilet — but I just couldn’t hold out any longer…ugh!  I felt dirty.

I say, give the strikers whatever they demand before this gets any worse and we have a real shit storm on our hands…our shoes… our trousers…..

***Two weekends and two 3-day shows in a row, selling our beautiful clown books and hawking amazing (and tasteful) ‘Poop’ stickers…..boy oh boy, this is the life.  If I knew this was going to be so good I’d have quit my old career 10 years ago.  John wholeheartedly concurs.  But, Now we have a clean stretch of uninterrupted time to finish “Bludgeon the Clown”, hopefully in early May so we can resume our show schedule.  -Marsha

 

Roger!

Roger-79 copy***No clever poetry this week and no flash fiction, just an old sketch originally done (by John) for Analog Magazine back in January ’04.  It seems to be the perfect image to illustrate the incredibly mediocre NJ Horror Con and Film Festival we worked last weekend.  NEXT weekend we’ll be sharing a table at the Great Philadelphia Comic Con in Oaks PA. with our good friend Richard Laslo, the Cel King.  After that, there will be no shows until our new book, “Bludgeon the Clown”, is done and published.  We’re still shooting for the first week in May for our release…but it will just have to take whatever time it takes.  -Marsha 

Poop.

POOP-new sticker-78 A Really Bad Poem

A really bad poem is one without rhyme.                                                            It sounds really awkward every single…recitation.  (time)                      It’s meter and beat are uneven and base.                                                      Just rhyming won’t do it, it needs a good – bouncy rhythm and a spot-on, neeto-keen…..pace.                                                                                      And don’t forget poets who make up new words,                                          who clutter the page with “scruffulous” turds.                                                 A really bad poem just might make you cry.                                                       Not like…from “feelings!”  but a poke in the eye.                                            Yeah, a really bad poem will poke out you’re eye,                                          will stomp on your toes and might make you…..screech                            like a howler monkey! (cry)                                                                                         But a really bad poem is funny sometimes                                                          if you get past bad meter and horrible rhymes.                                               A really bad poem might just be crap                                                                  ’cause the person who wrote it’s a horrible chap.                                       You might just not care for their poetic shit                                                    and feel like you just want to…..GAG.  (spit)    

***I’ve paired ‘A Really Bad Poem’ with our new “POOP.” sticker design just in time for our first Comic Con of the year.  John and I will have a table (with a load of new orig. art prints and stickers) at the NJ Horror Con and Film Festival, March 31st to April 2nd, in Edison NJ.  Find it online at;  http://www.newjerseyhorrorcon.com/.  Come find us at the show.  -Marsha   

 

Doug the Slug

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Doug felt sluggish sitting through another mind numbing meeting.  Boring people, like him, in boring suits, like his, sat around the conference room table giving boring briefs on their departments.  Doug’s section had nothing to report, he was only there to fill his boss’ seat while he was off golfing.  They droned on and on like lazy bees;  “Turn to page 68 and review diagram 123g…” and “good news in marketing assessment accounts payable, see the bar graph in addendum 6…” and Doug was too hyped up on caffeine to fall asleep like Bob from Legal.

Then…..he had a funny feeling.  Not a laugh out loud feeling – a strange, funny feeling…and the last thing he heard before it all went sideways was another inane comment from Alice, the CFO;  “…and sales were sluggish again last week…” and POW!!

A drip formed on the tip of Doug’s nose and slid off onto his tie, which he noticed was already flowing like liquid into his lap.  He watched as his fingers dissolved into sludge and his hands turn to pulp.  He felt his hair and eyebrows melt, his skin go flubbery and sag and finally his whole head collapse into an eggy mess down his torso before everything sploshed down into a viscous puddle of goo around his shoes (which didn’t take part in the transformation for some reason).

Funny thing is, he doubted that anybody in the meeting even noticed what had happened.  Perhaps everyone there was melting like him…but he doubted it…he could still hear Alice droning and Bob snoring.

***I think melting in meetings was the best part of working in corporate America, surpassed only by exploding like a hamster in a microwave just to see the mess all over everybody’s boring suit.  Happy Spring everybody.  -Marsha  

Sausage Fest

Sausage-Fest-76      Willy arrived at the party with his friend Willy and his other friend Willy.  He was happy to be invited, he and his friends didn’t get many invites (they were kinda nerds) but it soon became apparent that this party would be another sausage fest.  The prospects looked pretty gloomy when he saw that everybody there was a ‘Willy’.  At least there was plenty of beer.  After a while he noticed the place getting really hot and humid.  There might as well have been flames licking up between the gratings in the floor…and all the Willies were getting some awkward, nasty looking tan lines – just like his – and they were drinking gallons of ice-cold beer to compensate for…

That’s when he realized…it was all a scam. This…was a…..bar-be-que!

***Today, in the midst of the ‘Blizzard of 2017’, all I can think of is bar-be-que and beer.  This is a new one from our “Body-Oddies” project, a craptastic journey through the rancid mind of my artist, John Allemand.  So glad that’s over.  We have enough material to do the book but now I guess we’re just spewing out material as a compulsion.  -Marsha

Liam the Clown

Liam-75There once was a clown named Liam,                                                                  so small it was hard to see ‘im                                                                                     ’till I stomped him flat                                                                                                      with a colorful splatt.                                                                                                      Now, I wouldn’t want to be ‘im.

***We posted this one ’cause it was an easy one as we prepare our new book for publication.  ‘Bludgeon the Clown’ will (hopefully) be out by May 1st and we’re working around the clock to finish it.  This image is from our ‘Creepy Clown Coloring Book’…but we posted another version back on Jan. 12th 2016.  I’m not a big fan of John’s work but I really like this one…it makes me hungry for seven layer nacho dip.  -Marsha

Suspected Clowns

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Skippy the Jester came with a grunt.                                                                   Leopold came with a smile.                                                                                            Pat came juggling big squishy balls                                                                         in a highly provocative style. 

Montalban came in his polka dots.                                                                     Willy came wearing a dress.                                                                                          Mimsy came bouncing and shaking in white                                                      but left an absolute mess.  

Timothy came in a Santa suit.                                                                                       Bob came dressed as a cop,                                                                                            shoving his night stick in everyone’s face                                                             and no one could make him stop.

Bill the Mime came with Sissy the Clown.                                                        Do they come any weirder?…..Please!                                                              But when the guy with the camera came,                                                     they all came in close and said: “CHEESE!!”

***This post was originally published back in June last year…but I did a reuse because John read this poem, along with two others, at the art opening on Saturday (I was too nervous to do it).  The show, ‘Art & Poetry HA HA!’ at The Rectangle Gallery was fantastic and very funny.  It was a poetry reading followed by a reception for the visual art show – the kind of show that could change the mind of any poetry hater.  All the art was great and we got to meet a few of the other artists.  We really should do more of them.  There are pictures posted up at www.therectanglestudio.com.   -Marsha

Art & Poetry HAHA!

 

tepid-the-clown-37

Tepid the Clown had really bad gas.                                                                    He made ’em strong, and made ’em to last.                                                     He could fly around town propelled by his ass,                                       could leap a tall building with just one blast.

But ran out of luck with a wet squirty one                                                     and at ten thousand feet he was done                                                              and hit the street like a jelly-filled bun                                                             but, by golly! Wasn’t that fun?!!

***I may have posted this one last year but here is again…see, the darndest thing happened recently when the owners of The Rectangle Studio & Gallery invited us to be part of their inaugural ‘Art and Poetry HAHA!’ show.  I figured they must be crazy people if they liked John’s horrible clown illustrations…but John will be reading a piece or two of My work too, so they obviously have good taste.  The show is on Saturday, Feb. 25th at The Rectangle Studio & Gallery, 540A Freeman St., Orange, NJ 07050.  Open mike is at 6:30p (RSVP only) and open house is from 7:30p to 10p with froo-froo wine and snacks.  Find it online at http://www.therectanglestudio.com/.  -Marsha 

Foot In Mouth

Foot-In-Mouth-72      I woke up this morning feeling disheveled. I must have tossed and turned all night and tied myself into a knot, because when I woke up I fell out of bed…tied in a knot.  I didn’t know I could do that…and survive.  Worse than that, when I finally got myself untangled, I realized I had a foot where my hand used to be, my tongue was attached to an elbow and my hair had migrated down my back to my buttocks.  One of my hands had switched places with my wiener and one was dangling from an armpit but for the life of me, I could not find my other foot.  I wasn’t in any pain but the sight of it all made me want to scream…..except, when I opened my mouth…well, that’s when I discovered where my other foot had gone…

***This exact thing never actually happened to ME…but something resembling the ‘foot in mouth’ part definitely happened to the last loser who tried to pick me up in a bar, which…come to think of it, happened a few years ago on this same minor holiday celebrating the Marquis de Sade or something…..Valentine’s, whatever!  We’re too busy finishing our new book (‘Bludgeon the Clown’) to worry about it right now.  -Marsha