Tag Archives: art


“Body-Oddies” is an art book of body idioms.  A tongue-in-cheek interpretation of commonly used body expressions taken waaay out of context.  Designed to inspire outside-the-box thinking, it will make you feel clever while you laugh out loud.  It is 100 pages with over 100 illustrations, 9×12 inches in size with stiff, perfect bound cover. Price: $30.00

Find it in our Etsy shop. Go to Etsy.com and search EEWbooks or Body-Oddies.

Monster Truck

Monster Truck-70Flippy the Clown drives a truck.                                                                      What a big ugly mean stupid fuck!?!                                                                        He tools around town                                                                                                     running poor people down                                                                                         ’till his tires are pasted with muck.

***This is a page from our “Creepy Clown Coloring Book.”  A fully rendered version was also published in our “Bludgeon the Clown” book, but you won’t ever see it (and it’s pretty fantastic) unless you get the book.  We post very little online, saving the best stuff for the books. You can find our 3 books (and buy them) on Etsy (search EEWbooks), just follow the link to our website above.  Thanks.  -Marsha



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 artwork, which is only a red rough here, has been finished to a final render and is ready to be published in our “Body-Oddies” book…and it’s waaay cooler than what’s posted here, but you’ll probably never see it unless you get the book.  I really only post roughs and older work online (and only a small percentage of the pages of my books).  I save the best stuff for the books, so if you like the crap I let you see here, consider getting one of my books.  It IS how I make my living.  I have 3 books out so far and 2 more coming this year.  There are links above or you can find them on Etsy and Amazon (search EEW books)…’they make excellent gifts.’   -Marsha

Doug the Slug

Doug the Slug-77 

Doug felt sluggish sitting through another mind numbing meeting.  Boring people – like him, in boring suits – like his, sat around the conference room table giving boring briefs on their departments.  Doug’s section had nothing to report, he was only there to fill his boss’ seat while he was off golfing.  They droned on and on like lazy bees;  “Turn to page 68 and review diagram 123g…” and “good news in marketing assessment accounts payable, see the bar graph in addendum 6…” and Doug was too hyped up on caffeine to fall asleep like Bob from Legal.

Then…..he had a funny feeling.  Not a laugh out loud feeling – a strange, funny feeling…and the last thing he heard before it all went sideways was another inane comment from Alice, the CFO;  “…and sales were sluggish again last week…” and POW!!

A drip formed on the tip of Doug’s nose and slid off onto his tie, which he noticed was already flowing like liquid into his lap.  He watched as his fingers dissolved into sludge and his hands turn to pulp.  He felt his hair and eyebrows melt, his skin go flubbery and sag and finally his whole head collapse into an eggy mess down his torso before everything sploshed down into a viscous puddle of goo around his shoes (which didn’t take part in the transformation for some reason).

Funny thing is, he doubted that anybody in the meeting even noticed what had happened.  Perhaps everyone there was melting like him…but he doubted it…he could still hear Alice droning and Bob snoring.

***I think melting in meetings was the best part of working in corporate America, surpassed only by exploding like a hamster in a microwave, just to see the mess all over everybody’s boring suits.  This image is from our book, “Bludgeon the Clown” which you can find, with all our books, at www.sallemander.com  -Marsha  

Ugliest Man Alive

ugliest-man-alive-56 Billy O’Banion had to be the ugliest man alive.   He was  monstrous to look at – an absolute fright – and there was no hiding it.

Some liked to speculate that his father was a mutant clone or an alien invader.  There was even a vicious rumor that his mother took a demon into her bed.  Really though,  the O’Banions were perfectly respectable.  In fact, Billy’s birth was completely normal and he had a decent, happy childhood.  He’d never succumbed to any horrible illness or accident and was never bitten by an irradiated lab rat.  He simply started getting ugly at some point in his twenties, and kept getting uglier and uglier with each passing day.  He was an inexplicable freak of nature…an awful, tragic figure…..how sad!?

The funny thing about Billy, however, is that he was perfectly okay with his predicament.  He took it all in stride and made lemonade out of the rotten tomatoes he was dealt.  He figured he was a cross between Darth Maul and a Gothic dragon…cool!  See, Billy had an outrageous sense of humor which dwarfed his ugliness.  He was a clever practical joker and filled his days with gigantic gobs of fun.

Nothing tickled his tendrils more than slipping quietly into a mob on the street, disguised in a hoodie…only to burst out suddenly, flashing his most charming grin, yelling “Surprise!!!”  He could barely contain the giggles as they screamed, shat themselves and fainted (usually in that order).  It never got old.  He could clear a fast food joint or a movie theatre in seconds and never had trouble getting a good seat.

For a while, he made piles of money in the Mexican masked wrestling circuit but eventually retired on a generous pension provided by several New Jersey towns – “to stay the hell away!” These days, he lives quietly in a posh Hoboken penthouse where he writes creepy clown poetry and practices his banjo…but still gets a kick out of scaring the bajeebies out of solicitors, delivery boys and trick-or-treaters. He likes to leap out of the elevator and gobble them down whole.  Oh, don’t worry, he craps them out onto the carpet an hour later…completely unharmed (at least physically), after all, he always was a vegetarian.

***I wrote this in our weekly, Saturday morning ‘Montclair Write Group’ free-write workshop with John’s horrible self portrait as the prompt.  It’s good practice, good exercise and good inspiration.  John’s image was originally published in a 2010 issue of Analog Magazine.  We have 3 books available for sale, you can find them by following the link above to: www.sallemander.com    -Marsha

Search Me…

Search me-image-40

They were big and beefy and incredibly strong.  They were aggressive, poking their weapons everywhere and they smelled like belligerent fear as they shouted and snarled.  They had plate armor like insects but were pasty and bony underneath with beady eyes and a ridiculous tuft of hair on their tiny heads – like hand puppets.  They were most definitely …ALIEN!

When they landed their starship in my back yard and demanded; “Take me to your leader!”  I was so stunned – so baffled that I froze and just blinked at them.  Their exasperated captain tried again; “Where are your leaders?!” sneering with contempt, as if I was a child.  I simply shrugged and said, “Search me…”

Now…I don’t know if they misunderstood me or just had a REALLY strange sense of humor…..but being held down in a medical lab with a gnarly probe approaching my buttocks is taking things waaaaaay too literally.  These humans area  nasty bunch.

***This story reminds me of my last colonoscopy…And can anybody explain what the deal is with Aliens and anal probes?  They’re almost as bad as the CIA (at least Aliens ask intelligent questions).  This was the (lucky) 13th cover John did for the Jan/Feb 2015 issue of Analog Magazine.  You won’t find this image in any of our 3 current books but you can find our books by following the links to www.sallemander.com and our Etsy shop.   -Marsha 

Jonny Bot 5


Jonny Bot 5 got horny and hot                                                                                 for a high fashion mannequin girl (who did NOT!).                              Classy and fine, Jonny loved her a lot,                                                              she turned up her nose…a high minded snot.                                                  He brought wild flow’rs by the bunch, by the pot,                                   tried candy, tried gems, read poems – what ROT!                                      But kindness in turn Jonny 5 never got,                                                           not an ounce, not a peck, not even a jot.                                                       Tried…..and tried ’till his brains were quite shot                                        until finally…Jonny went cold……and forgot.

***This is an image and poem from my new book, “Bludgeon the Clown” which you can buy if you follow the links, above, to my website www.sallemander.com.  When we met Jonny Bot 5 he was already retired from the department store and well beyond his bad marriage with the mannequin…but was now engaged in a sordid online sex thing with Siri the phone chick…it was…well, lets just say ‘I wish I could un-see some things.’  I think John got some good sketches of them during the interview but our publisher (EEW Books) censored them.   -Marsha



There once was a Clown who fell in his glass                                              who went by the name of Mulligan.                                                                      He drank it all down before he passed…                                                           but when he woke up it was full again.

***The thing to understand about Clowns here, is that they can transmute their body fluids.  I met one fellow who could drink lemonade and piss grape soda.  Another Clown turned red wine into pure maple syrup.  Some can do different flavors depending on their mood.  Mulligan usually pissed single malt whiskey when he was feeling sassy but could only manage a weak mimosa when he was glum.  Clowns are SO fascinating…  I even saw one cheeky freak squeeze cherry ice cubes from vodka…OUCH!!!  This is a page from my first book, “Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks.”  Follow the links above to www.sallemander.com…and buy it!   -Marsha

Niggle the Clown

niggle-image-01I once had a Jester named Niggle                                                                       ooze from my nostril and wiggle.                                                                       With a grunt and a hack,                                                                                                 I snorted him back                                                                                                          but he dribbled back out with a giggle.

***This extraordinary piece of highbrow literature is featured in my new book, “Bludgeon the Clown” on sale now (follow the link above to www.sallemander.com).  I don’t actually remember writing this horrible little rhyme (though it amuses the hell out of John…), but Niggle was a little jerk who made a runny, sniffly nuisance of himself on a ten hour flight to Dusseldorf – with no tissues.  When I finally managed to snag him on a fingernail I took immense pleasure in kneading him between two fingers until he dried up and stopped screaming.  He is now a permanent smear in the booger graveyard under seat #22F on flight 1134.  -Marsha



I had a good breath diving under…good for at least 3 minutes.  Fifty yards out from the dock, I angled down deep for about 35 feet.  It was exhilarating.  The fish were strange today. They weren’t acting right.  It was just my instinct but…they seemed to crowd me instead of scattering at my approach. Pensive.

Weeds were thick but I liked swimming through them, like parting curtains…..until I saw the eyes – big eyes – cunning eyes.  I stopped, dead.  Froze.  They were staring at me with unnerving intelligence and all the little fish began darting about frantically – and I nearly lost my breath.

Through the gloom, I began to make out the long, hulking form behind the eyes; Strange limbs, sharp fins, long feelers, fleshy lips with menacing barbs, monstrous teeth…..smiling at me?

Now I was afraid! In one swift motion my hand swept down to draw my knife from it’s ankle sheath – but lightning fast, the creature’s arm shot out from between the weeds and wrapped its long scaly fingers around my throat – my jaw – my entire skull.

I lost my air…and then, lost consciousness.

I woke up…breathing. I started to remember…..swimming through weeds – fish acting oddly – then the eyes…and a massive claw, engulfing my head.  And as it all went dark I thought I heard a sinister, gurgling “Peek-a-boo!”

I was inside now. It was stifling and smelled like cat food mixed with burning tires. I sat up in a lumpy soup of viscous bile and big bloody chunks of meat. My hands and face burned but my wet suit protected the rest of my skin. A sphincter opened behind me and sucked me out, like a dumpling in a steaming meat-soup, down a tube whose bulbous nodules bathed us in a spray of acid. It stripped the fur and skin from the meat and dissolved my hair along with a painful layer of exposed skin.

I dropped into a bony chamber in which long, razor sharp blades shredded the meat into hamburger (along with most of my wetsuit). I was quickly evacuated into another chamber which flooded with thousands of tiny, finger sized worms (with very sharp teeth), who consumed every speck of the remaining meat sludge before I alone, the squirming, inedible lump, was expelled once more, through slimy bowels, into a vat of solid waste.

This wondrous fleshy sack looked and smelled like the inside of a rotting, bloated elephant carcass.  Minutes passed, possibly hours, while a steady stream of sticky, gloppy gunk filled the space, until there was no more room.  I thought this must be the end. With goop filling my ears and covering my mouth, I took my last full breath of air (a three minute breath?) before black sludge covered and consumed me. One minute…two minutes…nearly three minutes passed before I felt a great shuddering shift, followed by a resounding (satisfied) grunt….and I was suddenly shot, like a torpedo, out into clean, cool lake water.

I surfaced near the shoreline, gasping for air. Although I emerged from the lake a raw, tattered and thoroughly disgruntled piece of fish poop…I was alive. It was, perhaps, not my greatest adventure but surely a ‘fantastic journey.’


***The only thing better than a giant fish swallowing a dude and crapping him back out is doing the same thing to a great old Asimov concept (like I just did here).  Aaaaah, fish poop!…one of the great mysteries of life.  The image was originally a cover John did for the May, 2011 issue of Analog Mag.    -Marsha