Tag Archives: bizarre

Brain Salad Buffet

We think they consumed intelligence the way we consume food.  It sustained them and they were drawn to it like moths to a flame.  We think the people who came for the speech must have attracted them, after all, the event drew some of the top thinkers from the party; business executives, media luminaries, religious icons…all gathered together like a brain salad buffet.  We think their mistake was just a matter of bad timing, because by the time the singularity formed just above the President’s head and they began flooding through the rift like a swarm of gangly metal spiders, the bloviating buffoon at the podium had already been speechifying for over an hour.  A whole hour of engorged bravado, exaggerated assertions and pandering half-truths…reducing the (otherwise intelligent) audience to a drooling mob of seething stupidity.

We saw them spread out through the arena, randomly plucking dull witted followers from the audience like daisies, harvesting their heads for the tasty data in their brains….only to come up short.  The more heads they dissolved, the more puzzled they became…unsatisfied.  In fact they appeared to be weakening…starving – but then, who comes to a political speech, nowadays, for intelligence?

And as the rift sputtered and closed and the invaders lay down to die, we think we heard them mindlessly chanting …U.S.A….U..S..A…..u…s…a…..

 

Alien Space Battle Thing

Alien Space Battle stuff-83

*****This is the 83rd post…and every 83rd post, Marsha takes a break and lets ME post one.  Hooray!  Marsha is away, arguing with the editor and publisher at EEW Books, trying to keep all her crappy mistakes IN the manuscript of our new book, “Bludgeon the Clown,” now that they’ve been edited out (and fixed).  It’s vanity and hubris to think her departure from proper English is her ‘artistic prerogative.’  She’ll argue and get concessions – and compliments – and come away satisfied…while the publishers will do whatever they want after she leaves, anyway.  It’s a messy, but necessary process….and it works.  Meanwhile, I’ve posted an illustration I did for the September ’06 issue of Analog Magazine, for a story by Edward M. Lerner.  It was a fun one to do…one of my favorites (though I’m no fan of war).  -John 

Handyman

handyman-image-06     Darryl woke up with that feeling again – impossible to describe but all too familiar at this point. He kept his eyes closed for a while longer, savoring the dream he was having about his old, normal life…before all the changes…before every morning became a horror show, wondering if he would find another growth.

He did his best to soothe his anxiety, tried to make lemonade out of the lemons that seemed to be smothering him.  After all, how could yet another, extra hand possibly be all that bad for a skilled craftsman who worked with his hands?  Each one seemed to have all his talent and strength.  His productivity tripled, he was making money hand-over-fist (no pun intended) and for the first time in his life, people found him kinda interesting…..

But…waking up every few days with another fully formed hand growing out of some empty patch of his flesh was really starting to effect his sanity.

***This was a tough image to pull out of John’s thick head but with an iron skillet and a power drill I finally managed it (long story) and it lead to a new book project called “Body-Oddies” (which won’t be done for at least a year).  -Marsha

Fudge

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There once was a Clown named Fudge,                                                     whose bowels refused to budge.                                                                       He’d sit and he’d sit                                                                                                         but just couldn’t shit,                                                                                                       not even a gob or a smudge.

***Fudge was the first ‘REAL’ Clown we ever interviewed who we regard with some affection as he exploded shortly after John sketched out this scene.  He turned out okay but destroyed a strip mall along with 27 cars and pasted us all in fudge…we laughed…..and laughed…  -Marsha

 

Aghast

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When Mike rented his new place he’d never even tried a hot tub before. It wasn’t the feature that attracted him to the building. It was the two extra bedrooms, that would allow his grown kids to visit on holidays and between college semesters, that he liked most. Six months went by before he even tried it out – but when he did….it was gooood! In fact it felt wonderful…so relaxing, it took all his cares away.

He came back to it again and again and started making time once a week to soak in its warm embracing waters, gently massaging jets and steamy, soothing solace. Soon he found himself hopping in every day – even twice a day. A quick soak before the morning commute or a nice long one after the stress of a long day’s work became almost a necessity. He felt an affinity for the thing bordering on affection. He lost himself in the comfort and imagined himself in the warm embrace of the womb.

“Mmmmmmm!” he said…..wait…did he just say that? Strange, his voice seemed unusually low today, must be the bathroom acoustics …yeah! He relaxed again and submitted, to the moist tongues of ecstasy lapping his exhausted body….. “OOOOOOH, SCRUMMMPTIOUS!” he said in a deep, slow baritone.

Mike’s eyes bugged out as he leapt from the tub, twisting and convulsing like a housewife covered in spiders. Aghast, he screamed, “What the…I didn’t say that!?!” “OOOOH….DON’T GO MY LITTLE LOLLIPOP…..COME BAAACK.” said the booming voice from the tub. “Huh?” was all he could manage, shaking and dripping on the tiles, “AAAAAAAW,” boomed his tub, “MY SAUSSSSAGE DUMMMPLING, MY SPICY LITTLE MEATBALLL…..COME BACK TO MEEEEEE…I COULD JUST EEEEEAT YOU UP!!!”

***The image above is “AGHAST” by Joe Del Priore (with cover by John Allemand) is a VERY funny book and well worth reading.  It is available on Amazon and you can find more by Joe at;  plowedin.BlogSpot.com.  Joe is a good friend and mentor to us.   -Marsha

 

First Post…ever.

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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.

 

Hello, I’m Marsha and this is our blog.  I do all the writing and John does all the art (but I’m in charge).  We’re working on several (Graphic Novel) book projects – the first, “Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks” will be out soon.

     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…..tragic.  John insisted that we use this image for our first post for some strange symbolism that only idiotic artists understand.  Whatever!