Tag Archives: creepy

Primal Urge


I love brains!…LOVE them.  Can’t remember why I ever ate anything else…ever.  I vaguely remember being bitten, I think there were six of them.  They ripped out my stomach and organs as I turned…..then I joined in…and I tasted pretty good – but not as good as brains.

I don’t talk much any more, nobody in my group does.  It’s okay, I never was much of a conversationalist…and most folks seem too afraid of me to chat, anyway.  They run away screaming a lot or try to stab me in the head with sharp stuff… I never liked most people that much, so it doesn’t really hurt my feelings.  Their brains, though…ooooooohhh, nice!  Better than goose liver pâté and double fudge brownies.

I saw my own reflection yesterday, I’m looking pretty rugged.  I’ve really slimmed down without my guts…finally lost that extra thirty pounds.  And my skin, well…a mottled blue-ish grey with black streaks – reminds me of camouflage, my favorite color.  But oooooohh, the brains…did I tell you how good those are?  I highly recommend them.  Ooooooom!  Ughhh!!  Brains!!!  I love the brains.  Ummmmmm…I can’t remember why I ever ate anything else…ever.  I vaguely remember being bitten, I think there were six of them.  They ripped out my stomach……

***I posted this to celebrate another amazing show this past weekend…my first of 2018, at the NJ Horror Con and Film Fest.  HOORAY!!!  It would have been perfect if I made any money…and if all the vendors weren’t illegally searched (without probable cause) and harassed by the NJ Dept. of Revenue – before any of us were allowed to enter the show.  It was all an intimidation/scare tactic for a bunch of pussy tax cops who had full access to a list of prepaid vendors long before the show opening.  And it was all facilitated by the convention’s organizers/owners.  It’s really not a matter of whether I participate in future shows with those people — it’s about whether I include them in the legal action that follows.  I no longer tolerate being bullied.  -Marsha

Faith, in Brand Name Products

The worms had invested several generations in this project.  They were steadfast and intrepid.  It took months to meticulously scour every inch of the box to find flaws in the smooth laminate – the tiniest gaps in the seal – then year upon year of boring , rotting and tunneling through hard woods and glues.  They had never met Faith…had no idea what kind of person she was, but from the quality of her box, they trusted that she had taste…was tasteful.  (Tasty?)

The worms celebrated their first breakthrough as a holiday.  It was a momentous achievement.  A pauper’s box was easy to tap but was quickly overrun by poachers, a rich person’s box, though a major endeavor, was a rich prize.  The worms took time to reflect and remember their forebears who began this campaign with such hope and ambition.  It was good to be a worm and sure to get better…

…But, when they finally breached Faith’s inner cavern, they were appalled at the stench.  It wasn’t the tasteful (rotten) odor of a well fed, well groomed lady, whose conquest would fill their bellies as much as their pride, it was the vile reek of toxins…death to worms.  They found Faith, in brand name products.

She was slathered in chemical cosmetics, pumped full of formaldehyde, lead and mercury and her flesh, saturated with food additives and preservatives.  She had fake hair, fake nails, fake boobs, lips and joints.  She looked as perfectly pickled now as the day she was buried…but for the worms, Faith was completely inedible.  Disconsolate and defeated, they turned away wondering what the modern world was coming to.

***Some would qualify Faith, with all her enhancements, as a “cyborg” (how exciting!).  However, the products which enhanced her beauty also shortened her life.  Oh, but never mind that!  I’m sure she’s been looking up at her corpse this past decade, quite proud of its everlasting glamour.  As to the worms, I’m afraid there isn’t much hope.  Perseverance and integrity don’t count for much any more.  Meanwhile, today’s graveyards are tomorrow’s superfund sites.  This image is published in our new book, “Bludgeon the Clown” as the ‘Chapter 6: Death’ page illo.  It was originally our 21st post from Feb., 2016.  Good luck Christmas shopping…try not to poison your children.  -Marsha  


Persistently Inedible


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 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


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