There once was a Clown who fell in his glass                                              who went by the name of Mulligan.                                                                      He drank it all down before he passed…                                                           but when he woke up it was full again.

***The thing to understand about Clowns here, is that they can transmute their body fluids.  I met one fellow who could drink lemonade and piss grape soda.  Another Clown turned red wine into pure maple syrup.  Some can do different flavors depending on their mood.  Mulligan usually pissed single malt whiskey when he was feeling sassy but could only manage a weak mimosa when he was glum.  Clowns are SO fascinating…  I even saw one cheeky freak squeeze cherry ice cubes from vodka…OUCH!!!  This is a page from my first book, “Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks.”  Follow the links above to…and buy it!   -Marsha

Niggle the Clown

niggle-image-01I once had a Jester named Niggle                                                                       ooze from my nostril and wiggle.                                                                       With a grunt and a hack,                                                                                                 I snorted him back                                                                                                          but he dribbled back out with a giggle.

***This extraordinary piece of highbrow literature is featured in my new book, “Bludgeon the Clown” on sale now (follow the link above to  I don’t actually remember writing this horrible little rhyme (though it amuses the hell out of John…), but Niggle was a little jerk who made a runny, sniffly nuisance of himself on a ten hour flight to Dusseldorf – with no tissues.  When I finally managed to snag him on a fingernail I took immense pleasure in kneading him between two fingers until he dried up and stopped screaming.  He is now a permanent smear in the booger graveyard under seat #22F on flight 1134.  -Marsha



I had a good breath diving under…good for at least 3 minutes.  Fifty yards out from the dock, I angled down deep for about 35 feet.  It was exhilarating.  The fish were strange today. They weren’t acting right.  It was just my instinct but…they seemed to crowd me instead of scattering at my approach. Pensive.

Weeds were thick but I liked swimming through them, like parting curtains…..until I saw the eyes – big eyes – cunning eyes.  I stopped, dead.  Froze.  They were staring at me with unnerving intelligence and all the little fish began darting about frantically – and I nearly lost my breath.

Through the gloom, I began to make out the long, hulking form behind the eyes; Strange limbs, sharp fins, long feelers, fleshy lips with menacing barbs, monstrous teeth…..smiling at me?

Now I was afraid! In one swift motion my hand swept down to draw my knife from it’s ankle sheath – but lightning fast, the creature’s arm shot out from between the weeds and wrapped its long scaly fingers around my throat – my jaw – my entire skull.

I lost my air…and then, lost consciousness.

I woke up…breathing. I started to remember…..swimming through weeds – fish acting oddly – then the eyes…and a massive claw, engulfing my head.  And as it all went dark I thought I heard a sinister, gurgling “Peek-a-boo!”

I was inside now. It was stifling and smelled like cat food mixed with burning tires. I sat up in a lumpy soup of viscous bile and big bloody chunks of meat. My hands and face burned but my wet suit protected the rest of my skin. A sphincter opened behind me and sucked me out, like a dumpling in a steaming meat-soup, down a tube whose bulbous nodules bathed us in a spray of acid. It stripped the fur and skin from the meat and dissolved my hair along with a painful layer of exposed skin.

I dropped into a bony chamber in which long, razor sharp blades shredded the meat into hamburger (along with most of my wetsuit). I was quickly evacuated into another chamber which flooded with thousands of tiny, finger sized worms (with very sharp teeth), who consumed every speck of the remaining meat sludge before I alone, the squirming, inedible lump, was expelled once more, through slimy bowels, into a vat of solid waste.

This wondrous fleshy sack looked and smelled like the inside of a rotting, bloated elephant carcass.  Minutes passed, possibly hours, while a steady stream of sticky, gloppy gunk filled the space, until there was no more room.  I thought this must be the end. With goop filling my ears and covering my mouth, I took my last full breath of air (a three minute breath?) before black sludge covered and consumed me. One minute…two minutes…nearly three minutes passed before I felt a great shuddering shift, followed by a resounding (satisfied) grunt….and I was suddenly shot, like a torpedo, out into clean, cool lake water.

I surfaced near the shoreline, gasping for air. Although I emerged from the lake a raw, tattered and thoroughly disgruntled piece of fish poop…I was alive. It was, perhaps, not my greatest adventure but surely a ‘fantastic journey.’


***The only thing better than a giant fish swallowing a dude and crapping him back out is doing the same thing to a great old Asimov concept (like I just did here).  Aaaaah, fish poop!…one of the great mysteries of life.  The image was originally a cover John did for the May, 2011 issue of Analog Mag.    -Marsha

Primal Urge


I love brains!…LOVE them.  Can’t remember why I ever ate anything else…ever.  I vaguely remember being bitten, I think there were six of them.  They ripped out my stomach and organs as I turned…..then I joined in…and I tasted pretty good – but not as good as brains.

I don’t talk much any more, nobody in my group does.  It’s okay, I never was much of a conversationalist…and most folks seem too afraid of me to chat, anyway.  They run away screaming a lot or try to stab me in the head with sharp stuff… I never liked most people that much, so it doesn’t really hurt my feelings.  Their brains, though…ooooooohhh, nice!  Better than goose liver pâté and double fudge brownies.

I saw my own reflection yesterday, I’m looking pretty rugged.  I’ve really slimmed down without my guts…finally lost that extra thirty pounds.  And my skin, well…a mottled blue-ish grey with black streaks – reminds me of camouflage, my favorite color.  But oooooohh, the brains…did I tell you how good those are?  I highly recommend them.  Ooooooom!  Ughhh!!  Brains!!!  I love the brains.  Ummmmmm…I can’t remember why I ever ate anything else…ever.  I vaguely remember being bitten, I think there were six of them.  They ripped out my stomach……

***I posted this to celebrate another amazing show this past weekend…my first of 2018, at the NJ Horror Con and Film Fest.  HOORAY!!!  It would have been perfect if I made any money…and if all the vendors weren’t illegally searched (without probable cause) and harassed by the NJ Dept. of Revenue – before any of us were allowed to enter the show.  It was all an intimidation/scare tactic for a bunch of pussy tax cops who had full access to a list of prepaid vendors long before the show opening.  And it was all facilitated by the convention’s organizers/owners.  It’s really not a matter of whether I participate in future shows with those people — it’s about whether I include them in the legal action that follows.  I no longer tolerate being bullied.  -Marsha