Making Speech

making-speech-54      Oh no!  What are they doing?  Are they going to talk now or…?   Oh god!  They’re about to make…..”SPEECH!”  Oh, eeeeeew, its all over the podium, it even smells like speech.

Every time these political types get up in front of people, they speech and they speech and they speech, incessantly.  Its the worst, the nastiest – sloppiest speech you ever heard.  Like a big steaming pile of drunken speech stumbling about, speeching its filth everywhere.

Oh well, I guess its a sign of the times…but just look at the crowd gathering, its sickening – and they love it.  Ooooh, now they’re spraying the stage with raw speech, projecting hot, sleazy speech all over everybody… they bath in it with relish.  Oh, the humanity!  And no matter how I try to avoid it, I end up covered in it too.  It spatters my shoes, my clothes and gushes painfully from my ears.

I thought it might be different this time around.  I thought we all might have a good healthy discussion like civilized people…..but all we got is more “speech”.

***Was that another clusterfuck debate?  Is there ANY intelligent person willing to vote for one of those assholes?  My god…we are soooooo screwed…..  Meanwhile, this image is from our wonderful coloring book, which you can buy on our EEWbooks Etsy store/site, OR just use the link above to:   -Marsha

Open Mike

open-mike-63 Mike stood on stage in the spotlight…..terrified. But, something about it seemed to be working for him.  They probably found his trembling voice charming as he spoke sincerely about his life…his completely bizarre, absolutely strange, totally unlikely life…and the cynical way it came across.  The crowd laughed at the tragic death of his wife in a mundane laundry incident.  They howled at how the wind blew her ashes into everybody’s mouth at the funeral.   And the five-day-old lasagna in a broken fridge, causing a vivid conversation with Lucifer, left them in stitches.  Every word he spoke, every glib anecdote, felt like a hole being ripped open in his soul, allowing his demons to spill out – only to be consumed and obliterated in the laughter of the audience…and when it was over…Mike stood open and bloody and spent and…..completely relieved.  It was better than therapy, better than liquor or sex or CHOCOLATE.  And he walked off stage to a standing ovation feeling light as a feather.

***This post is an illustration from our ‘Body-Oddies’ book project and is available as an original art print at the Conventions and Book Fests we attend.  The book is not scheduled for publication until 2019.  You can, however, find our 3 current books at or search ‘EEW Books’ at and  The holidays are coming.  They make a great gift.  -Marsha 

Splitting Headache

Splitting Headache-69 

Hey!… Do you remember that thing? You know…that THING??  Oh, you remember.  We saw it the other day when we were doing the other thing…..what’s-is face was there.  Oh, you know who I mean, the one from… oh gosh…from over yonder with the thing-ummy-thing on his who’s-is-what’s-it?…And we laughed and laughed about it the whole time?  But he wasn’t so amused.  He took the issue up with…oh, you know who, the one at the place…, the place right next door to the other MAIN place?  And she went totally ballistic about everything, especially that one thing…..but not the thing I’m talking about.  I meant the OTHER thing.  Yeah!  The thing with the thing-a-ma-jig…Yes!!!  You know the thing!  UGH!!!  I seem to forget EVERY thing…but I definitely remember THAT!

***This conversation isn’t all that unusual. It happens more often than I’d care to admit.  What amazes me is how often we completely understand each other whenever we do…..whoever it is.  -Marsha 

Fritz the Clown

fritz-the-clown-65There once was a clown named Fritz                                                                 with a festering face full of zits.                                                                               They filled up with goo                                                                                                  ’till they finally blew                                                                                                        in a fountain of putrefied bits.

This image and poem was published in our “Bludgeon the Clown” book, in the chapter on ‘procreation and birth’…yeah, it’s as fascinating as it is factual.  You need to read it.  John (my illustrator) and I finished our 3 year, Comic Con experiment in September.  We discovered that although they’re a lot of fun, they are a shit-show for anyone trying to sell or promote ORIGINAL concepts in art and publishing…if you aren’t trying to exploit somebody elses’ creative work.  They are a hive of bootleggers, thieves and hacks – and the knuckle-dragging fans who don’t give a shit what kind of crap they buy, as long as it has their batman or blue-haired anime chick in it.  You can find my original concept art and books and buy them at  -Marsha

It’s All Speculation

Herbert had been prone to rashes since he was a kid.  He caught them all – like a rash magnet…it was inexplicable.  He had at least three rashes on any given day of his life.  As a sickly nerd, he never had friends… how the heck did he get chicken pox?  He never had sex, so where did he get crabs?  Hell, he had rashes no one ever heard of.  He was a spotty, itchy, miserable pariah (though he was a delight to his dermatologist).

Anyway, when the ‘Speckles’ showed up, Herbert was neither surprised nor alarmed…but when they became an infestation, weird stuff started happening.  All his old rashes now had a rash of their own.  The Speckles definitely did not respect other rashes’ turf.  His chicken pox grew feathers and beaks, his goose bumps grew long necks and started nipping and spitting at other rashes and his scarlet fever?…WOW!… well…lets just say that when she reached puberty…things got REALLY awkward.

The Speckles went on to occupy every inch of Herbert and ousted all his other rashes – which would have been good except that each Speckle became enormous, grew a face and took on a personality of its own.  They started talking amongst themselves – argued with each other constantly (about religion and politics, ugh!)  and sang bawdy songs at all hours.  It made things quite uncomfortable for Herbert, though not as bad as the realization that they’d become stronger, smarter and cooler than him.  It wasn’t long before Herbert diminished completely into the shadow of his own brilliant speculations…

***Oh, how this reminds me of my teenage years…though my speckles were quite amiable and we were into the same music.  This image comes from our “Creepy Clowns Coloring Book.”  You can find all our books at   -Marsha