***February 31st is my 114th birthday!!!…so naturally I feel compelled to show you my balls.
Business was going downhill fast
for a middle-aged clown named Skipper.
Until he applied at the local church,
who gave him a job as a stripper.
Now he has work almost every night,
’till well past three or four.
The fellas are sweet and tip really well,
but his ass is constantly sore.
NOTE: WordPress has found a way to prohibit me and other poets from posting my 8 line poem in the format I’ve used here for the last six-plus years. It will only post as a paragraph. They probably removed the feature so they can monetize it…’cause poets are sooooo rich. Well, FUCK you WordPress! Fuck your WordPress algorithm too! I hope you both die in a fiery fuckin’ plane crash! I’m tired of greedy incompetent fuckwads fuckin’ up basic shit.
***Tuesday is John’s 114th happy birthday! Write him a fuckin’ Happy Birthday message!!! But whatever you do, don’t tell facebook that February 9th is NOT his real birthday. It’s actually Feb. 31st…there’s just a problem with their stupid algorithm! (It has no sense of humor), but that’s what you get when you’re ruled by robots. We’re all doomed…have a nice day. -Marsha
***So far, this one looks like another possible reject from our next book, “Body-Oddies.” It’s a good little sketch, though. John did it for his big sister who does all his eye tea work, in fact, she makes the BEST, most scrumptious, most professional eye tea there is! Thanks Mary Anne.
***This was the original rough pencil sketch for “Twisted Sister.” It looks cool, and you’d think it was easy to do, but for every image that came out great in one try, there were a hundred more that ended up in the dustbin. Again, there’s no short, flash-fiction story for this…no need, really. It’s just a silly (effective) idiom, filtered through the whimsical context of John (the illustrator’s) fetid brain, for a page in our new, fifth book, “Body-Oddies” which will be out soon. You can find our first 4 books and the other stuff we sell at our Etsy shop: Just go to etsy.com and search EEWbooks, or follow the links on our site. -Marsha
***”Pail Blue Hand” is just a tiny swatch from an illustration in our third book, “Bludgeon the Clown.” I love it. It’s so artsy-fartsy, like a 1970’s still life painting of flowers and fruit and stuff…only different. You can find all four of our illustrated books at etsy.com (search EEWbooks). -Marsha
CLOWNS ARE REPULSIVE
Knob Noster, Missouri. There is no doubt that Badger the Clown was an obnoxious, bile-inducing weenie. That’s not an uncommon talent for a clown. No, Badger’s unique gift was being repulsive. I mean, he was impossible to touch – like trying to connect two positive-ended magnets. No matter how big an object it was or how fast you threw, it veered away from him…uncanny! He once stood stock still to let John smash a tomato on his head, point blank…and he still missed. Badger laughed so hard he wet himself (but not a drop touched him).
***Taking another break from posting pages from our NEW book…to post one from our third book, “Bludgeon the Clown,” which is still quite brilliant and can be found, along with all three of our other books and stuff by following the link above to www.sallemander.com or go straight to our Etsy shop and search EEWbooks. -Marsha
BAT CRAP CRAZY
Ancient Christian texts claim that when God removed one of man’s ribs to make “woman,” he also yanked out the other, just to even things up…but not needing it for anything, tossed it into a dung heap. This, according to Christians, is the key to the miracle of their existence. That single bit of rib bone and ragged flesh flourished in God’s blessed poop, reforming as a gangly, festering, embryonic growth. When it finally gained enough strength to scrape and scrabble into the light of the world (like a schloppity bubble of methane), it burst forth and immediately began juggling rancid chunks of excrement for God’s divine amusement “…and it was gooood…” Apparently, early Christians were as loopy as our modern, bat-crap-crazy kind.
Ancient Babylonians were quite certain that the first clown hatched like an egg from the severed nut sack of a pregnant goat, caressed by the triple tongue of Ama-Arhus, goddess of fertility. This theory has some merit, as I’ve observed and documented similar occurrences in this book.
Most American Natives agree that clowns came to the “New World” from Europe as a plague of sickly, pale ghouls in great smelly wooden canoes. They say they were invited here by the legendary trickster “Coyote” as a prank…which backfired when he became an alcoholic and died of smallpox.
In all, I unearthed about 407 clown origin myths from the records of dead religions across the globe, some of whose sheepish followers still blindly believe…and continue to provide a rich source of entertainment to American popular culture (bless them).
The U.S. University of Clown Knowledge (U.S.U.C.K.), in Waldo, Maine, are the government contractors who track and monitor clown activity throughout North America (they are also the esteemed fact-checkers for this book) and are the ones who ultimately revealed the truth. They discovered that early clowns (about 7 billion years ago) made a significant evolutionary choice which divided them forever; A majority of clowns decided to fully integrate with the most dynamic and intelligent race on Earth…and live out their lives in contented, peaceful bliss. The remaining minority chose to merge with primitive humans…..who by now, have managed to hunt their brethren, the whales, to the brink of extinction.
These days, there are clowns so integrated into our society, they no longer realize they’re clowns…and their subversive influence is incalculable. The fate of the world, it would seem, now rests in the hands of the sort of delightful fellows featured in this book.
After all my intense research on the history of clowns (an entire Saturday afternoon…wasted) a couple of things stand out. First, people think clowns are creepy (surprise!!), and second, nobody gives a squirt about history. As long as clowns distract the kids, folks will overlook just about anything. Not even the telltale stench of rancid armpits and boozy puke breath – or a police rap sheet of armed robbery and indecent exposure – will put people off these days. And here they remain, hidden in plain sight…waiting.
***This post is NOT from our latest book, “A Short Burst.” It is an excerpt from our third book, “Bludgeon the Clown.” While the image makes me want to puke (John loves it of course), it is the most exhaustively researched article on the true history of clowns ever written. True, it’s kinda short, but piss off! It’s all we REALLY know about the clown species. You can find “Bludgeon” and all our books and stuff by following the link above to www.sallemander.com. -Marsha
We stood at the intersection looking down at my body, hit by a bus. How ridiculous! After all the times I stopped people on their phone gadgets from walking into traffic…and now this? I must have been daydreaming. What an idiot!
Cars were still swishing through the scene while a small crowd of cynical bystanders gathered to make snarky comments in hushed voices. The police arrived to push the crowd away and redirect traffic. One of them walked right through me…ugh! Weird!! I shuddered. My companion grinned.
I felt regret. It was a good body. I’d kept it fit and healthy, not too bad looking either, but now it was mangled and broken. There were scattered bits of gristle and a thick dark liquid splashed across the asphalt. One of my eyes hung down my cheek by a thread and my skull was split wide open like a busted watermelon. Hmmm, I always wondered what my own brains looked like. Eeeeeew!!!
My companion stepped over to me with a ‘we should go soon’ nudge. I must say, for a scythe wielding hippie weirdo in a medieval bathrobe, he seemed like a decent chap. He was kind enough to give me time to adjust. Finally, with a friendly clap on the shoulder he hissed, “Come along, son. You can’t take it with you.” We turned away and began walking off into the ether.
“Hey Grim!” I said, “You think I’ll come back as a sea slug or a tapeworm? I hope not…maybe I could be a hockey puck! Yeah! That’s where all the action is…” He shook his head and rolled his eye sockets. “Hey, can you introduce me to Jesus? No…ELVIS!!! Yeaaaah!”
***This combination of spot-image and story is featured on page 6 of our new book, “A Short Burst.” It is flash science fiction, which makes it very short and intense for people who have very little time, and is quite satisfying. It will be available to buy very soon at www.sallemander.com. Meanwhile, feel free to check out our first 3 books: www.sallemander.com. -Marsha
Bladder the Clown had really bad aim, though he did his best to foil it, the bottle of booze he guzzled each day would give him the shakes and spoil it. He tried once or twice to widen his stance and hold his dick really tight, but doused his shoes and sprinkled his pants and still couldn’t hit the toilet.
***We’re breaking all the rules this week by posting a political one. Yeah! This one’s political, specially picked for early July. What…you don’t get it? That’s okay, its a tricky one. Leave me an angry comment if you get it. I hope you didn’t blow your friggin’ hands off playing with fireworks. This is an image and poem that didn’t make it into “Bludgeon the Clown”…so this is probably the last time you’ll ever see it. Farewell Bladder. -Marsha