Good morning. How are you? I hope the week has been treating you well so far. Something’s definitely working for you, because you seem to be getting funnier every day. Take a look:


Now, let’s meet Monster 153:

What’s 153’s favorite movie, do you think? How much does he bench? Or is 153 a thespian? He seems a bit distraught. Or just confused? And what’s with the neck? ANd the wedge-shaped jaw? Is there a sound evolutionary reason for that? I hope you’ll let me know. If you would, will you please…


It’s another long night — I’m preparing a monster mural, don’t you know, and the creatures are being quite uncooperative. But I know they love you, and I also know that 344 LOVES YOU


  • Andu
    20 February 2008 11:12 am

    Al enjoyed the warmth of the bonfire in front of the benches. They were filled with monsters, happily talking about all and nothing while eating dinosaur barbecue. The meat was followed by a big gulp of snail beer. Al took a sip of his and enjoyed the tickling, but slimy sensation in his mouth.
    This very nice barbecue was an annual event of the Anonymous Trailer Fans of the big town where they actually lived. Al, for example, was actually a successful lawyer with a good reputation. But sometimes, at least once a year, he needed the change in clothing, society and lifestyle. He patted his stained undershirt and grinned contentedly.

  • 20 February 2008 2:46 pm

    Part of 153’s problem is his overbite. He’s currently going to an orthodontist to see if they can do anything about it, but the problem is they want him to pay $6500. And he just doesn’t have the money.
    Luckily he does floss with the use of his tail.

  • 20 February 2008 2:54 pm

    This is a picture of the never-before-seen Dick Tracy nemeses Hatchet-face Horace. Gould scrapped the character when it was realized Flattop Jones was a bit easier to draw.

  • James Hardaker
    20 February 2008 3:53 pm

    This chap is from a parallel universe – he is a distant relative of the swan, and represents what the swan species would have turned out like had evolution taken a different course on planet Earth.
    It’s interesting to note, also, that this fellow is rather annoyed because he was right in the middle of watching Futurama when there was a power cut and he missed the rest of the episode.

  • 20 February 2008 4:35 pm

    In fourth period (Art History), Mr. Dunfry casually mentions that an X-ray of a 16th century Italian painting of Jesus revealed a man dressed in Renaissance clothing painted underneath. This gets our attention; we ask, “Does that mean that Jesus was, at heart, un uomo universale?” Dunfry says, “I don’t speak Spanish.”
    “Have other paintings been X-rayed?” we ask. Dunfry shrugs and says, sure, some have; it wasn’t all that uncommon for painters to paint over old canvases, and now restorers sometimes notice that blah blah blah. Is it any wonder we don’t pay attention to him? So we interrupt: “Why has no one told us this before?” we all cry. Dunfry tells us another example: the Arnolfini wedding portrait that we went over last week was also X-rayed, and the scan showed the subjects’ feet were sketched in one position, painted in a second position, and then this was painted over in a third position. “Show us!” we demand. He finds it on the computer, and we are startled to see that when all three sets of feet are looped, the Arnolfinis are doing the Foxtrot. “Was Jan Van Eyck the palimpsest for Arthur Murray?” we want to know. “OK, that’s enough,” Dunfry says, alarmed by our shouting. But this is pretty much how it starts. We all become obsessed with Pentimento.
    By happy accident, Andrew Hunt has gotten second place at the science fair for a working infra-red spectrometer and we commandeer this (over his protests), head to the school’s library, find a big reference book of famous paintings and put it to work. We scan a print of Picasso’s “Old Guitarist” and find the image of a woman behind him. Is it supposed to be Melpomene? Or is it just the person the song that the guitarist is singing is about? Did they break up? Is this the guy who wrote “I Know It’s Over” for The Smiths? That song is SAD. (And he kind of looks like Morrissey.)
    Further scans reveal: (1) Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers” originally depicted just one sunflower and a lot of baby’s breath; (2) The guy in Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” originally had glasses, a pitchfork and was standing next to the “American Gothic” lady (who was also screaming); (3) “Whistler’s Mother” started off life as “Whistler’s Father” (if you get what I’m saying). Mr. Dunfry finally tracks us down and threatens us all with Saturday detention if we don’t give the spectrometer back. “Please,” we tell him, “One more!” and we hold up a picture of Monster 153. He reluctantly agrees.
    The scan shows beneath the drawing of Monster 153, the paper once had older illustrations, each painted over: a 1950s medical text book illustration of malocclusion; deeper down, some Rose Period acrobat from 1905; further down, a presidential portrait of Martin Van Buren, the sideburns being the most prominent (Dunfry guesses Henry Inman from around 1840); and at the bottom, a first draft of Parmigianino’s “Madonna of the Long Neck” from 1540. Dunfry is quiet for a second as he contemplates this: as the artist drew the monster, each of those underpaintings influenced the way the drawing went, nudging the ink one way or another. Dunfry is about to say something about what the implications of this might be, but then the bell rings, and we all scream and run into the cafeteria.
    Today is pizza day.

  • bbibo
    20 February 2008 7:24 pm

    The Senate hearing was a sham. Arnie knew they were just out to get him, to make an example of him, to make him the face of the scandal of the week, to make everyone hate him so that no real work in the Senate would have to be done.
    The photographers crowded the corridors making it difficult to reach the doors of the hearing chamber. Arnie pushed his way through, knocking more than one photog to the ground.
    “You’ll hear from my lawyers!” shouted a fat man with a brownie instamatic, the lens cap still on.
    Arnie laughed. Was it at the fat man’s incompetence or his own, he didn’t know.
    Two men in suits so black that they absorbed all light and hope on Arnie’s part, pushed wide the doors and ushered him. They seated him alone at a long table facing the Senate committee. A gavel rapped.
    “Mr. Arnold, first, I’d like to thank you for appearing before this committee without a warrant,” said Marlin Spectre, the committee chair.
    “Thank you for hearing me, Senator,” Arnie said.
    “Fine, fine,” said Mr Spectre. “Let’s just cut the chase and get right to the point. Have you ever used, with or without your knowledge MGH, or Monster Growth Hormone?”
    Arnie sat quietly. The only sound in the chamber was the click of the photogs’ camera shutters.
    At first Arnie was going to fight the Senate Committee, but then it was explained to him that even if he won, he would lose. A long fight would do terrible damage to his reputation and a mussel wrestler, the premier mussel wrestler this side of Muscle Shoals, AL. Why should he stick his neck out for someone who was just out to humiliate him?
    Arnie cleared his throat. More cameras clicked through a rapid series in anticipation of his answer.
    “Well, duh,” he said and sat back in his chair, his hands clasped on his lap.

  • GristleBean
    20 February 2008 8:16 pm

    11 in the morning on a Wednesday.
    Bank lines move slower once you are actually stuck in one. Once the realization creeps in, molasses-subtle, you’re a permanent member of the LaBrea Team of Fossils-To-Be. You start resenting the guy in front of you, time-blessed, angel-noogied. He’s got his stuff together. Jerk.
    Looking up at the giant mirrored security lens that distorts, on purpose, to take in from exactly where you are to the horizon, you’ll notice the slight physical changes that time is doing to you.
    My god, has my thumb-sucking really screwed my front teeth up that bad?, you wonder.
    Housepants? Where’s my self-shame to keep me in check? Did I leave it with my comb, in the bottom of a well somewhere?
    And the sleeveless shirt/boots thing is a bit too Lou Ferrigno… too Lou Ferrigno…
    You’ve hypnotized yourself with this partially-obscured giant gazing ball like some Escher or dithering midnight moth against an Arkansas back porch light. You pry your cheek off of (holy CRAP my pores) it to find that:
    …you’ve stepped out of the bank teller line.
    The guy that was in front of you walks past, smirking smugly and stuffing cash into his wallet. It would have been your turn in line. There’s an actual blue-haired fossil where you were standing who’s wanting to deposit a very large sack of mixed coins. The price of vanity is steep. You sign your defeat by sighing and stepping back into cue.
    Almost noon on a Wednesday.

  • Sue Bebie
    16 August 2008 4:58 am

    Spyros ein Anhänger des altgriechischen Poeten, steht, obwohl er ein begnadeter Schauspieler ist, nicht auf dem Thespiskarren. Nein, ihm sind Soloauftritte auf freiem Feld lieber. Per Pedes durch die Gegend zu tingeln hält ihn fit. Gestählt wie ein Olympionike, frönt er den Schönen Künsten und schlingt seinen Hals auch gerne mal um dorische (oder sind es jonische) Säulen, um sich für seine Fans in heldenhafte Pose zu werfen.

  • Nadia Hansen
    3 February 2009 4:44 pm

    Sheldon was confused.Should he go left?Should he go right?Should he go to the Starbucks?He tried to figure out were he was going again by stopping at a bus stop.He rubbed he neck to remember(which was one of his weird habits he tried to stop.)”Now I remember!”He said gleefully and skipped to the groccery store to buy some chips for Super bowl Saturday.He got the chips when suddenly he stopped in the middle of the cross walk to tie his shoes when a little kid with a foot ball decided to throw the ball at Sheldon to see if he wanted to play with him.So the little kid threw the foot ball but the foot ball hit his head and made his neck all swirly like it is now.

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