Second Skin

second-skin-66 

Mick was always an awkward fellow. He tried to be a regular dude like everybody else but it never really felt right.  He did his best to dress normal, he had an average haircut, dated respectable girls…even got a boring middle management job in a large corporation, just as everybody expected, still, Mick was never quite comfortable.  He had the constant urge to break out of the box, jump up and sing, to run about, dancing with joy to be free.  He struggled with it every day…and sometimes he slipped;  He would catch himself about to smear his face with lipstick and crack lewd jokes – or smash his bosses face down into the banana cream pie he accidentally brought to work – or pull out the condiment bottles he had in his trouser pockets (for some strange reason) and paste everyone in the board room with goopy ketchup and mustard.  Worse, some days he would get all the way to work and realize he’d worn one striped sock and one plaid sock (weird).  And every day it just got harder and harder to fight the urge to shred his dull grey business suit, to peel off his own mundane skin and release the amazing, passionate (spectacular) monster that was trapped inside…..and one day, when he no longer had a reason not to…he did just that.

***The first post of 2017.  Peel away all the crap and crud and wash off the slime of last year so you can be clear headed and ready for the clusterfuck that’s coming.  The image above was adapted from an Analog Mag. spread John did in 2013.

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 gush of putrefied bits.

For my last post of the year, this one jumped right out at me as the perfect image to exemplify 2016.  Happy New Year.  -Marsha

Winter Weather Advisory

thesanta-64It was June and sunny.  The first sunny day he’d seen in months.  Standing atop a 60 foot snow drift, Santa surveyed the landscape of Death Valley, Nevada. This was no way to spend his vacation.  Where were the buzzards and the fire ants?  Where were the salt flats and sand dunes?  This place looked too much like home this year…how awful!

Well, what did he expect?  This is where things like consumerism, waste, greed and stupidity get you – and he had to admit, he played his part.  Ever since they hired him to sell capitalism to the huddled masses, back in the 30’s and 40’s…..a snowpocalypse was inevitable.  Mother Nature swings like a sassy pendulum, knocking the idiots aside with the good ones.  Maybe the random survivors will come through smarter and better this time…but he doubted it.  Oh well, he still had to find sunscreen for Mrs. Clause or she’d have his head.

He got back into his sleigh and flew off in search of a frozen supermarket, hoping the looters left some Twinkies…or some milk duds…

THE SANTA  (an excerpt from ‘Bludgeon the Clown’) Possibly the best known clown of all and the greatest Christian icon in history.  Santa is the hardest fellow to meet.  When I flew to the North Pole for an interview I found nothing there but a giant peppermint flavored pole…and simply planning to intercept his holiday flight got me a visit from Homeland Security (again). Frankly, I couldn’t confirm he existed at all (I was crushed).  Yet somehow, he still manages to deliver the most fabulous gifts, each year, to the most affluent (undeserving) children in the world…..maybe its just as well I didn’t find this clown.  -Marsha

Open Mike

open-mike-63 Mike stood on stage in the spotlight…..terrified. 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 another excerpt from our ‘Body-Oddies’ book project and the art will be available as an original art print soon.  I am rewriting ‘Bludgeon the Clown’ and John is reworking the layout so it will be published and ready for sale in the spring of 2017.  Find our 2 books at www.sallemander.com or search ‘EEW Books’ at Etsy.com and Amazon.com.  They make a great gift.  -Marsha 

Foreheads

foreheads-62 

Mulberry Jelly sat on the edge of the stage covered in sticky egg juice and rotten vegetable pulp.  He couldn’t figure out what the crowd hated more, his cliché street-rapper name or the combination-spoken word/death metal version of “I’m a little tea pot” he was performing before the riot broke out.  One thing he knew for sure;  His brilliant career in show biz was over before it started…again.  The same thing happened last week when he tried a blues/ballet combo of “Freak” in front of the local Middle School Talent Show Fundraiser.  He refused to accept his Mom’s advice to study dentistry or go into his sticky Uncle Morty’s carpet cleaning business.  Who were they to call him a talentless hack?  No!  He would go on!  He would make Mulberry Jelly a household name and prove to the world…

Aw hell!  Who was he kidding?  The only reason people showed up to these things was to gawk at him for the bizarre growth on his…..

***This piece is slated for our “Body-Oddies” book.  Its another unrevised rough concept sketch by John.  While he works on the final artwork for that, I am rewriting and reworking our “Bludgeon the Clown” book so it is ready for print and sale in the spring.  There are links to our books above or you can find them on Etsy and Amazon (search EEW Books)…’they make an excellent gift’  -Marsha

Persistently Inedible

persistantly-inedible-61 

They came for me in the dead of night, grabbed me forcibly and shoved a black sack over my head.  They took me to an undisclosed location, locked me in a room with nothing in it but a table and chair and set a plate of food in front of me.  Weird.  They told me I could leave…..but only if I finished everything on my plate.  I wasn’t hungry.

I tried to reason with them but they ignored me.  I ranted and raged and pounded my fists in a heroic hissy fit.  I even begged…but they ignored me and by then, hours later, I WAS getting hungry.

The plate of food was still sitting there but I didn’t recognize any of it.  It looked like it could be some kind of exotic vegetables.  It certainly didn’t smell so good – like farts in a moldy sleeping bag.  I resisted.

A few hours later I was famished.  I took a closer look at the food.  Maybe it wouldn’t  be so bad – but just then, something twitched.  I squeemed with the heebie-jeebies!!…..and looking again, I could swear it was breathing.  I thought I would puke but had nothing to give, then it all started to stir and writhe and become agitated – it was REALLY weird (but I was sooooooo hungry).

I grabbed a piece off the plate, wrestled it into my mouth and down my throat.  It resisted, kicking and screaming all the way down.  That’s when I puked…but as it limped away angrily, I caught it again, ripped it apart with my teeth and ate it.  I managed to round up every single piece of those awful, jabbering bits of freakish vegetables….and I must say, it was the best meal I’d had in ages.  In fact, I was  looking and feeling much more like my old self again.  Man!  Best Thanksgiving EVER!!!

***Now that THAT’s over and we are well into the corporate buying frenzy marked by the high holy day of ‘Black Friday’, I can shamelessly plug my books.  With all the garbage out there you COULD buy to purchase the affections of your loved ones for the year, I stand behind my books for their quality, cynicism and sheer awfulness.  They make the best possible Christmas gift for those you love AND those you can’t stand.  They’ll help you get laid, enhance your penis and put luster in your stringy hair while that extra ten pounds you’ve been trying to shed will come right off…but be careful, you may become more popular than you can handle.  Available on Amazon and Etsy, you can find the links at www.sallemander.com.  -Marsha

Stigma The Clown

stigma-the-clown-60 

Stigma the Clown was a master of wit.                                                                His gift was ‘the awkward and creepy’.                                                               On the corner, at night, he’d stand (or he’d sit)                                               upsetting the neighborhood deeply.

He wasn’t a violent, dangerous bloke,                                                                  never groped or ran about naked,                                                                           was never obnoxious or rude when he spoke                                                    but some people just couldn’t take it.

Just stood on the corner, creepy and proud,                                                   toying with people’s prejudice.                                                                                A few of us ‘got it’ and laughed out loud                                                               but everyone else was incredulous.

“He’s a leech! He’s a thief!!  He’s disturbing the peace!”                          “He’s exposing our kids to his DICK!!!”                                                                And once they started to call the police,                                                             things got really bad…quick.

“YOU should stay in your OWN neighborhood!”                                           “Your kind aren’t welcome here!”                                                                          And they chased him down and shot him, for good                                      out of bigotry, hatred and fear.

Stigma continued his terrorist reign                                                                     form St. Patties’ Day to Thanksgiving.                                                                    Wherever he went they reacted the same,                                                        ’cause this is the ‘Merica we live in.

***I wrote this lovely little ditty to commemorate ‘The Great Clown Scare of 2016’ while John and I were at the Scranton Comic Con this weekend.  We had an amazing time – as we always do.  Another successful show with our two new books and orig. art prints.  Now I get to hibernate for the winter while we finish our next book, “Bludgeon The Clown”.  EEW Books plans to publish it in time for the spring Comic Con season.  Happy Thanksgiving.  -Marsha

 

Why The Long Face?

why-the-long-face-59-copy 

Last Wednesday a dude walked into the bar with a REALLY long face. The barkeep looked up and grinned.  I knew exactly what he was thinking.  He opened his mouth to say…..but thought better of it and simply asked, “What’ll ya have, pal?”

***Everything you were afraid might happen is pretty much already happening.  Your craptastic election doesn’t change much.  Take a minute or two to get your shit together, then pull up your big boy pants, get off your lazy asses and come join the rest of us in the revolution.  Whatever you think or believe, its time to quit your bellyaching and rise up.  -Marsha

Red State Blue State

red-state-blue-state-58-copyDemocrat?  Republican?  Who can fuckin’ tell?                                          Red state, Blue state?  Die and go to Hell!                                                    Argue ’bout it all you want, knock each other out.                                 ‘Right-Left’ bullshit ain’t what its about.

***”We must remember that when we choose the lesser of two evils,  we still choose evil”  (-Hannah Arendt).  I won’t vote for evil… for neither the corporate Democrat, nor the corporate Republican.  All the fear mongering, doom and gloom they project to insure our compliance in their bankrupt system is already a reality.   Pull your head out of your ass, we live in a broken society.   We owe it to those who come after us to do more than just vote ‘D’ or ‘R’ like “Good Germans”.  We owe it to them to get off our lazy asses and resist the corporate state.  Vote your conscience…and then get out, join a movement and rebel.                                 -Marsha Mellow

She Tasted Like Blue

tasted-like-blue-57 All speckled and fuzzy, she tasted like blue                                                      with spiny black tendrils of yellowish goo.                                                         She dribbled and hissed in licorice throes                                                           and sang like a frog-apple shoved up her nose.                                               Shredded and pulpy and gnawing in heat                                                           while her farts were so pungently sweet.                                                            flailing in fancy with peppermint splashes,                                                        her mango-bat claws left slashes.                                                                             And when she was salty she prattled and leapt                                              and when she was orange she slept.                                                                        And when she was rancid, with droplets of dew,                                          she definitely tasted like blue.

***I didn’t write this drivel.  Even my artist, John, in all his bizarre idiocy couldn’t compose this kind of brilliant shat.  But, as I recall…I think it was the mutant tiger chick and her kinky prey who did it.  Well, read it again and try to find the clever hidden meaning to it – then buy my books (find them at www.sallemander.com).  John’s illustration was first licensed for use as the Jan/Feb 2009 cover for Analog Magazine, for a story by Rajnar Vajra (one of John’s favorite authors)  -Marsha