Tag Archives: clowns

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…..as 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 on Sunday?  Is there ANY intelligent person willing to vote for one of those two assholes?  My god…we are soooooo screwed…..  Meanwhile, Our image is from our wonderful new coloring book, which you can buy on our EEWbooks Etsy store/site.  Here’s the link…  https://www.etsy.com/shop/EEWbooks?ref=hdr_shop_menu   -Marsha

Trousers and Clot

trousers-and-clot-53I once saw a Clown named Trousers                                                                   swallow a Juggler named Clot,                                                                               who didn’t quite like being swallowed                                                                (it was smelly inside and hot).                                                                                    So he kicked and hollered                                                                                           and squirmed and shoved                                                                                           and pushed and punched and swore,                                                                     ’till poor old Trousers burst at the seams                                                          dropping Clot (and his guts) on the floor.

***This one has a special political message…which I’m going to share with you in just one moment…..hang on…its coming, just stay right there and wait a bit……….  Meanwhile, we had a successful show this weekend up near Syracuse NY (a 5 hour drive because john drives like a little old lady).  Scare-A-Con 2016 was an amazing time, full of really amazing people – staff, fellow vendors and especially patrons.  Our next event will be the ‘Indy Author’s Day’ at the Montclair NJ library this coming Saturday, October 8th from 11am to 5pm.  We will be selling books while being entertained by readings, panels and lectures.  It is free to the public, so stop by if you’re in the area.  -Marsha

Master Debater

masterdebater-52 

What a lovely outing! It was a gorgeous day in America, strolling about in broad daylight was so uncommon for HIM that he was exhilarated to the point of giddiness.

As an unconventional fellow with such an unusual profession and an incredibly off-putting appearance, it was downright strange to pass through so many ‘normal’ social situations, this wonderful day, with little notice – with barely a sideways glance from the people he encountered.  To be sure, he certainly enjoyed the tremendous effect he’d always had on people in ages past.  It amused him to no end to see them faint, scream, flee in horror – even die on the spot…..but today, not even the sight of Lucifer, The Devil himself, phased these modern Americans, so jaded and broken.

They actually applauded him as he made his way to the stage to moderate this season’s first presidential debate.  He marveled at their cognitive dissonance, knowing how completely screwed they will all be, no matter which of THESE candidates win…..and to think, he didn’t even pick them this time.  They did that aaaaalll by themselves.

***I spotted him coming out of the debate with a forlorn look of such profound disappointment, I thought he was going to cry.  Our eyes met for a second and I knew exactly how he felt…because I felt it too. 

***Any way, Our Etsy store/site is up and running with our two new books and 12 original art prints for sale.  Go to etsy.com, search for EEWbooks and ‘fave’ my page.  Thanks.  -Marsha

Willy Pete

smartbomb-51 

Willy Pete was the smartest person he knew. He was thinking all the time.  He had little else to do in his crate – yes, Willy lived with several other smart fellows like him – in a crate, in a warehouse.  For their first few years they were moved around a lot.  They were transported from warehouse to warehouse, in different parts of the world, sometimes by truck or by ship or by cargo plane.  Willy could always tell where they were by the air pressure, humidity, altitude, motion… because he was REALLY smart.  Eventually, he and his fellows were let out of their crate and clamped under the wing of an airplane.

Willy Pete loved flying from the moment they took off.  He loved the speed, the wind in his face and that he could finally see everything in the wider world – rivers, mountains, fields and forests…and all of it made him even smarter.  They flew for hours and hours and every moment was wonderful.

They careened mere feet above the ocean waves, steered wildly through desert canyons and between tall buildings – then angled upward and climbed so high above the clouds that he could almost touch outer space……But as they dropped back down toward the city below, Willy received a signal which armed him for what he realized was his true purpose.  The wing clamps released, his cameras and control fins activated and a pilot, half way around the world, took control and guided him toward his target.

Willy thought feverishly, knowing he had just seconds left (that apartment building was getting huge, fast) wondering why he was released.  He trusted…he HOPED he would serve a noble purpose.  He yearned for the chance that his death might have meaning…perhaps to save the world?

But as he crashed through a kitchen window, plowing through furniture, appliances and toys, he saw the startled look on the faces of several people gathered for an evening meal – and counted no less than six children around the table – as he explo………

***Exploded…..I think it meant to say, “exploded” before the transmission ended.  -Marsha

Gob the Clown

Gob the Clown-49      Spartacus Spittle woke up the moment he hit the wall.  What should have hurt like hell, only exhilarated him as he gasped his first breath and his first gooey thought shat through his brain bubbles.  His brand new eyes popped open in time to spot his birth father tromping away in floppy, oversized shoes, a bright orange wig and a baggy, polka dotted jumpsuit.  Spartacus felt a wave of affection wash down his still unformed leg jizzle.

The impact with the wall spattered most of his foamy mass of phlegm in an impressive spread but he was already retracting elastically into a sloppy infant form.  Just below him, however, was the spittoon that his father was aiming for as he made his glorious journey, rumbling up from the lungs and simultaneously snorking down from the sinuses,  commingling on the birth canal tongue to be fired out of his silly painted gob with a convulsive “HORK!!”

As Spartacus clung to the wall for dear life – lest he fall into the spittoon and die – he felt confident that if he’d inherited his father’s bad aim he would probably miss the pot anyway.

***As much as I’d love to expound on all the fascinating data we’ve compiled on Clown reproduction and birth, I’m even more excited about our new ‘Creepy Clown Coloring Book’, which is where this week’s image comes from.  Even better, we’ve just ‘opened’ our Etsy shop where you can find both our new books by searching “EEWbooks”.  When I figure out the actual link, I’ll let you know.  -Marsha  

 

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

Uprising-45

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

Sundae The Clown

Sundae-the-clown-39

“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

tepid-the-clown-37

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