Good morning. How are you? I hope you had a lovely extended weekend, if indeed you were granted one. It was a working weekend here that continues into the sunrise, as you can see from the time stamp. Sometimes it happens. Luckily, I had your excellent stories to keep me company. There is always funny stuff going on, but you definitely outdid yourself yesterday. Take a look:


Now, let’s meet Monster 152?

He seems to be an older gentleman. How do you think he gets by without a lower jaw? What’s that oozing from his tongue? Why the cane? And the funky horizontally striped pants? Are we dealing with an aging monster celebrity? An anonymous curmudgeon? If answers are coming to you, I hope that you’ll…


I’ve got a bit more work to do before I get to go to sleep, so I have to keep it short — but please don’t let that cause you any doubt that 344 LOVES YOU


  • 19 February 2008 7:14 am

    Vicious D. Loco looked sadly at his faded, purple, leopard-print fedora and matching velvet suit, now covered with a thick layer of dust. He sighed as he recalled all the fond memories from his youth. Ah, but these new, elastic striped pants were much roomier (and still stylish), he thought to himself. And even though Vicious D. was a long-retired pimp, he would not give up his gold shoes and cane. Represent!

  • 19 February 2008 10:02 am

    There is MY idea of the perfect sugar daddy.
    All I need to do is check out his bank account, and I’m HIS! Not only a great body but he drools too. What could be sexier?
    The sound of his cane tapping across the bedroom floor…….oh yea……I’m in love.
    (This is one of the most adorable monsters ever.)

  • Andu
    19 February 2008 10:47 am

    All those Elvis fanatics had known the truth, secretly. Elvis lived. But where? That was the thing that could never be proven. And slowly, one by one tried to accept that he was dead – some never did, but most of them.
    But there was this other world. A world which is almost like a carbon copy of ours, but nevertheless different. And there, in a small town in rural America, there lives Elvis. He is quite old now, but still wears his old clothes. His physique has adapted to the other monsters living there. Also, he is walking with a cane. With a weight like his and in his age, it’s a normal thing to do.
    He can’t sing that well anymore. Sometimes he doesn’t even know where he lives and his neighbors have to save him out of the forests or take him home when he fell asleep beside the road. But he remembers his past very well. Right before he goes to bed, he swings his cane and sings his old songs until his false teeth fall out and he gets tired. Yep, Elvis is an old man, but will always stay Elvis.
    (and before you ask – I don’t like Elvis’ music, but it was the thing I thought of spontaneously 🙂 )

  • 19 February 2008 1:19 pm

    In the negative space under it’s neck… I think I see a teddy bear. :/

  • GristleBean
    19 February 2008 7:32 pm

    The doorman of the Murky Dungeon Nightclub, Cafeteria, and Post Office is one fellow known as Grolley. He manns the portcullis-lever, sells stamps, and calls maintenance for any flossing injuries that occur for that night. He is the smiling face you see as you come into the establishment, setting you up with a mint mouthwash appertif, or perhaps starching your sweater while you decide between sending packages seamail or airmail.
    When on duty, he dresses to the nines: spats, tophat, and a balmy attitude.
    When off work, or when the Dungeon is closed, he just sits there.
    The owner or the place has told him to go home, but his intellect seizes up right when he clocks out. Several bouncers have offered to set him out by the dumpster until his next shift, but the owner can understand his plight. He’s seen his condition before.
    The Seizing Stupids is an unfortunate condition affecting anyone at any time. It can be reoccurring like clockwork, or, for the fortunate, rare and sporadic.
    Please help us help them by donating random objects to your local bakery.

  • JAK
    20 February 2008 5:30 am

    Anton braced himself against the wind. It was only a breeze, feathering his unkempt mane behind him. But, he thought, when you’re four hundred and fifty, in human years, you have a right to brace yourself.
    Ahead of him, three chilopods were skipping rope. Tastier when they’re newborn, he mumbled to himself, drooling. And, a lot slower, he reminded himself. His knarled digits squeezed the knob of his cane. He tottered past the delectable treats, visions of flossing threadlike legs from between his teeth.
    The good old days, he shook his head. The wad of drool that hung from his tongue plopped onto his good pants. Eh! Forgot my false mandible, again, he muttered. Wasn’t hungry anyway.

  • JAK
    20 February 2008 8:02 am

    those should be “gnarled” digits (above) – duh!

  • 20 February 2008 10:14 am

    Oh man, do I ever know about the Seizing Stupids…*L*
    Just never knew what to call that condition.

  • 20 February 2008 10:27 am

    A monster, whom we shall call K–,
    Was Thebes-bound, and heard a sphinx say,
    “Can you name the guy
    Who’s a quadruped, bi-
    ped, and tri-ped, and all in one day?”
    K– said that the answer is “Man”,
    For he crawls on four legs; then he stands,
    And then when he’s older
    He is a cane-holder.
    (The ‘day’ thing’s a figurative span.)
    The sphinx told him that this was right. It
    Said, “I’ll grant your wish, then. Please cite it.”
    “Transmute stuff to bullion,”
    K– said, “But one rule: on
    Condition,” he said, “That I bite it.”
    The first thing K– changed to gold hues
    Was his footwear, which one can excuse
    As an homage and thanks
    To director Les Blank’s
    Movie, “Werner Herzog Eats His Shoes”.
    But late that night, post-counting sheep,
    As into all parables creep
    Comeuppance, desserts,
    Retribution asserts
    Itself: K– bit his tongue in his sleep.
    The golden tongue’s weight on his beak
    Soon rendered his posture oblique.
    He was forced to maintain
    Himself up with a cane.
    And his mandible gave in a week.
    The moral, Monster 1-5-2
    (Also known as “K–”) might construe,
    Is this: “Chrysopoeia?
    I don’t want to be ya.”
    And: “All that glitter’s not AU.”

  • GristleBean
    20 February 2008 7:03 pm

    That Patrick’s vernacular wit
    bakes flimsy newbs at the spit
    with ‘K–‘s Alchemy Lament’
    so this round, I relent
    for you’ve proven that you are the SH(**more formidable storyteller than I.)

  • Sue Bebie
    16 August 2008 5:09 am

    I want to be forever young!!! Das ist sein Credo. Frankling Freewheeling der Uralt-68iger kleidet sich gerne jugendlich. Der Geist noch jung, die Glieder klapperig, so kennt ihn jeder im Quartier.
    Er ist auf dem Weg den Jungbrunnen zu suchen. Denn wenn nicht jetzt, wann dann?…
    Ja, ja, Time is not on your side lieber Franklin, Beeilung ist also angesagt…

  • Nadia Hansen
    19 December 2008 3:15 pm

    This is Arnold Mcsexy pants(AMSP for short.)The pimp cane is part of his style.The drool is ’cause his has overactive drool glands.
    Ps:I bought the monster sweatshirt and it was awsome!!!! :^D

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