“Ohhh…its not so bad.” his wife told him with thinly veiled sarcasm. “You look absolutely delicious…..!” she smiled sardonically. But it was a hot summer day and he was melting on the spot. He wouldn’t last much longer.
Billy was so intent on pleasing his estranged wife (poor henpecked bastard) that he took her desire for an ice cream sundae too far and transmogrified himself into one, without considering the consequences. And still, as he slowly disintegrated into a sweet soupy mess, she would not favor him with her attentions – except to say, “Ugh! You know I don’t like pistachio…..!”
***The hell with Billy, its hot out and I want ice cream!!! This image is another piece from our now book, “Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks”. You can find it here at www.sallemander.com (or follow the link above). -Marsha
Larry had no objection to toes. He never thought much about them, really. Sure, they help us to stand up straight and balance on two feet…but so what!? They’re just little nubbly things. They’re not sexy or cool like fingers (at least you can pick your nose and scratch your ass with fingers). Toes are shit. They make lousy ear rings, smell worse than ass crack and are too bony to eat (even sautéed in olive oil with mushrooms and onions) and they taste like chum, anyway.
So why?…..What’s the sense of growing one right out from the center of his forehead? How could he have gone to bed last night, feeling like a perfectly normal modern man (with hypertension, diabetes and chronic back pain) …and wake up the next morning with such bad luck? What kind of rotten cosmic karma did he upset for nature – or god (or whatever) to decide to put a big gnarly, fully grown toe, right smack between his eyes?
Seriously though, wasn’t it bad enough that he already had a whole festering patch of them growing down his back?…..UGHHH!!! What’s the sense of it all!!?
***I’m pretty sure Larry isn’t the only one who wakes up every morning with awkward growths or nasty lumps. Some are easy to dispatch, others we just have to live with – to be sure, I’ve noticed it becoming yet another disturbing trend among a broken people in our broken society. But…all is not lost. The solution to all your woes can be found in the pages of our new book, ‘Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks.’ You can find it by following the link above to www.sallemander.com. -Marsha
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?!!
***At first I thought this would make an excellent political post, something about the end of empire or the integrity of our legal system…but then I recalled a delightful passage I found in John’s dream journal. A heroic tale of high adventure with a boy blessed with fart-propelled sustained flight…..and then I remembered the smell of sausage and fajita farts I endured the last time I got into his stupid car – and all I could think of was “EEW!” -Marsha
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!!”
***John took our new book, ‘Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks’ to the Scare-A Con in Springfield Mass. this weekend. It was amazing. The place was infested with Clowns, actors, freaks and nerds…and every one was brilliant. There were photo ops, selfies and even the odd grin-n-grab and every famous person we met was warm and kind. This post seemed to capture the whimsy and chaos of the convention. -Marsha