Category Archives: Clowns

Creepy Clown Coloring Book

Creepy-Clown-48 copy ***Our new book is out.  We got a hefty stack of advance copies and are selling them like crazy, first at the Newark Comic Con (Aug. 20th) and now among friends near and far and online.  We also have both our books;  ‘Creepy Clown Coloring Book’ and ‘Blue-ish freaks’ for sale in our first retail store, Time Warp Comics, in Cedar Grove, NJ.

     Don’t worry, just because its a coloring book its no less awful (and beautiful) than our other works.  Its a delightful gallery of fantastic images designed to rekindle your fondest nightmares in a grizzly fender bender down memory lane.  Its only $10. and you can get your own copy by following the link on this page to www.sallemander.com.  -Marsha

Birth of a Clown

Birth of a Clown-47The birth of a Clown is a sacred thing.                                                                 A blessed and joyous day.                                                                                               So pinch your nose and light a match                                                                    and try not to flush it away.

***They say “You can attract more flies with honey than with vinegar” – but even more with poop.  I guess the same applies to Comic Cons…where my ‘POOP’ stickers were a HUGE hit.  Oh, they loved my new books and original art prints and stuff – but the poop stickers lured them in like adorable, moist little champs.  The Newark Comic Con last Saturday was a good one for us.  We met tons of cool, beautiful, fascinating comic people, had a great time (and even made a little money).  I can’t wait for the next show in September.  The image this week is page 7 from ‘Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks’.  My new ‘Creepy Clowns Coloring Book’ should be up on our site an ready for sale next week.  -Marsha

Uprising

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The Clowns rose up in anger one day                                                                      deciding enough is enough.                                                                                            They poured out into the streets en masse,                                                        yelling and juggling stuff. 

They wanted ‘equal rights’, they said,                                                                to be ‘taken seriously’.                                                                                                    An end to random giggles and leers.                                                                   They wanted respect, you see. 

Snarling traffic with mini Clown cars,                                                               squirtling flowers and ties,                                                                                         their strike turned into a riot (of sorts)                                                           pelting police with pies. 

They overwhelmed the barricades,                                                                storming the walls and ditches                                                                                  and made their way up to capital hill,                                                                    leaving the cops in stitches. 

But as they breached the chamber doors,                                                       their smiles turned into frowns,                                                                                  for the senate was already occupied                                                                      by Idiots, Mimes and Clowns.

I wrote this piece and John illustrated it almost two decades ago.  I thought, for sure, things MUST change for the better by now…..  -Marsha

Anarchist

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Stop complaining!  Stop protesting!                                                                         You have your rights but don’t really need ’em.                                               We are the government.  We’re in control.                                                         This is American freedom.                                                                                              Anarchists, Hippies and Clowns, beware.                                                             We have the guns.  We know what’s best.                                                          If you make our corporate bankers upset                                                           we’ll pummel you under arrest.

***This is an excellent post for all the weeks of blowback we’ve had, not just in the U.S. but around the empire…all predicted, all preventable and all inevitable.  And what’s next?…history will tell you.  This week’s image is a page from our new book, “Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks”.  -Marsha

Sundae The Clown

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“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

Tepid the Clown

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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 

Do They Come Any Weirder?

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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!!”  

***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 

Freaky Uncle

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We never spoke about Uncle Dixon. Our whole family tip-toed around the subject…but I could tell there were powerful feelings just under everybody’s skin.  He was a horrible pariah.  The black sheep of the family.

We kept him straight-jacketed in one of the padded cells in the catacombs below our cabin.  He was never allowed out in the light of day (lest one of the neighbors spot him), only after midnight on stormy nights and always tightly chained, gagged and bound in one of those psycho metal hockey mask get-ups.  He got wheeled around in a steel cage on a hand truck under constant, heavily armed guard.

As if that wasn’t bad enough…Uncle Dixon was never allowed to go wilding with the rest of the family, never allowed to invade homes, to rape and burn and shoot folks in the face with shotguns or dismember them with his best machete before skinning and roasting them on the Bar-B-Que for the family feast…..how sad and dull.

I felt bad for him.  What possible meaning could his life have?  I always wondered what awful thing he could have done to deserve such treatment – until I overheard Pappa Ripper telling old cousin Head-Stomper that Dixon was a pacifist, an atheist and… a vegetarian (whatever that was).  He also said that he had NEVER murdered a baby in his whole life – actually refused to do it!!!  Eeeeew!  What a Freak!?!

***Every family has at least one crazy relative that makes Thanksgiving an unforgettable event rivaling any ten episodes of The Jerry Springer Show….and worth 6 months of therapy.  I think my illustrator, John, serves that role in his family.  John’s illustration is from our book, ‘Bludgeon the Clown’, scheduled for publication in 2017.  -Marsha

Worse Day of My Life

“Worse day of my life…” began the stranger at the bar, “…the day I lost my HEAD!” He stared at me oddly, chuckling. His words hung in the air for a while as I wondered who the heck this guy was and why he was chatting me up. He sounded absurd!  “What?!” I asked, a little annoyed. “Yeah!” he continued, “It just tumbled off and rolled away. I couldn’t find it for a YEAR!” ‘How ridiculous’ I thought – but then, I remembered hearing about that sort of thing happening more and more these days. “I found it conjoined with some other dude’s left hand like a circus freak-show exhibit …awkward!”

 

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I reached for my beer glass but knocked it over with the empty stump of my wrist. The stranger grinned at me and chuckled again knowingly. It seems that both my hands had quietly popped off and were crawling down the bar toward the attractive woman in the breasty, low cut blouse at the end…the one I was too shy to approach earlier. I didn’t know what they planned but I could just imagine what MY brainless hands might like to do with HER. That’s when I noticed the stranger’s collar – bolted tightly ‘round his neck. It looked positively medieval but locked his wayward head soundly to his torso. ‘How clever?!’ I thought.

The barkeep wiped up my spilled beer with a lovely pair of shapely, ladies arms –which did NOT match the rest of his otherwise burly, tattooed frame. He caught me staring but shrugged and nodded me in the direction of my hands as they broke into a run…..while the woman’s breasts leapt out of her blouse and took off in opposite directions.

***John did this image for our new book, “Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks” which is available now, just follow the link above to www.sallemander.com.  -Marsha

 

Sammy the Clown

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Sammy the Clown thought he could fly                                                              so he threw himself  off the roof                                                                           and flapped his arms for eighty-nine floors                                                 ‘fore he realized his tragic goof.

***Even if Uncle Sammy here is only an inch or two off the ground he’ll still make a painful, messy landing.  There isn’t much more to say about American politics today…except that we do real Clowns a disservice by associating them with politicians.  It taints their integrity and sense of decency.  This is a page from our new book, ‘Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks’.  You can find it at;  www.sallemander.com  -Marsha