Ice Pops

Pops was starting to get pretty old                                                                    and everyone loved the geezer,                                                                                so we poured him into a popsicle mold                                                              and kept him fresh in the freezer.

***My Mother was recently in the hospital for a surgery.  At 78, I guess she’s planning to resuscitate her waning modeling career.  The whole time she was there, she complained incessantly about how COLD her room was, and it WAS cold!  To shut her up, I finally had to explain that at her extreme old age, it was just refrigeration ….probably a malpractice liability thing.   -Marsha

Spindle the Clown

Spindle the Clown was really old, so he went to Miami for rest          but drank more vodka than he could hold and collapsed with a pain in his chest.

He died that night in his hotel suit but not before fouling his shorts and hurling his lunch from his chest to his feet in retching, heaving, snorts.

Nobody knew he was there, by chance, having very few friends, to be sure, and his room was paid for the month in advance with “DO NOT DISTURB!” on the door.

So his body sat in the heat to bloat and his organs turned to soup and flies laid eggs in his nose and throat and beetles infested his poop.

Rats and roaches came up through the shower, the odors were pungent and fresh and feasted on Spindle for 93 hours, stripping his bones of flesh.

When housekeeping finally entered the room, hardly a crumb remained. Spindle the Clown was completely gone, except for his creepy brain.

***We met Spindle the Clown a few years ago while researching death rituals among the Clown species.  We spent a week  documenting his demise – only to witness him defy death in the end.  Sadly, his brain grew up to be a corporate banker…..very tragic.  John insisted that we use this image for our first post (back in Oct., 2015) for some strange symbolism that only idiotic artists understand.  Spindle was featured in our first book, “Blue-ish Freaks” which you can follow the links to find and buy.       -Marsha

Boogey Man

Boogey Man Dan was alive and well                                                                        and couldn’t believe his good luck.                                                                      Up until now he lived up my nose                                                                      and was rather hopelessly stuck.                                                                      Now he’s stuck to my finger,                                                                                    like a glob of cold runny eggs.                                                                                    At least he got out in one solid piece                                                                    with all of his fingers and legs.                                                                              But what to do now?  Where should he go?                                                  His entire life lay ahead!                                                                                        …until I decided to knead him to bits                                                                and flick his corpse away…..dead.

***I’m travelling again and I’ve noticed that in every American airport there’s a special line for rich, rude, entitled people who pay loads of extra money so they can be first in line and feel important (I guess), even though we all get on the same plane, breathe the same air and arrive at the same time.  THEY get to be first, at the front, like the petty popular kids in grammar school…and I just have to  laugh at the silly people.  The last time I was in Moab, Ut., there was one such dignified, aristocratic fellow who spent the entire trip to Philadelphia picking his nose, which inspired me to write this little ditty on the plane.    -Marsha


Soft in the Head

Marshmallow Fred is soft in the head.                                                              He’s soft in the head, like I said.                                                                                  I thought he’d be kinda addled and dull,                                                         but seems quite witty instead.

His head is as soft as a marshmallow.                                                                   A marshmallow head – with jello!                                                                Squish it just so and PLIPP out an eye,                                                            like a whimsical marshmallow fellow.

***I don’t remember writing this drivel.  I don’t remember anything about the whole week when this was done!  Every time I mention it to John, the illustrator, he gets a funny look on his face, rolls his eyes, and shakes his head, refusing to talk about it…just pisses me right off.  What the hell happened?!?!?  Anyway, the publisher seems to like it – though she is a nasty drunk, so that might not count for much, but it’s all okay with me.    -Marsha