DAILY MONSTER 170
Good morning. How are you? I hope you made it through April 1st if not entirely un-punk’d, then at least physically and mentally unharmed. I’m happy (and always a little bit relieved) to see how many of you come back after one of the little drawing breaks, and get right back into the writing action when the new monsters appear. It’s also exciting to see new names pop up in the comments. Take a look at the excellent reporting on Monster 169:
Earlier today I finally finished the Monster Video Archive.
If you ever want to refer back to a particular creature,
or if you just feel like going on a massive monster bender,
you know where to turn.
Right now, Monster 170 is waiting for you.
Let’s not keep him waiting:
170 does not appear to be a happy camper. In fact, he seems outright truculent. Cantankerous, even. What’s his beef, do you think? Is it that damn music? Is it tax season? Is it those tight, purple pants? I’m sure you have a theory already, and I hope you’ll not keep it all to yourself. If you can squeeze it into your day, please…
For right now, I hope that your day is going well,
and that good things are coming your way!
Spring is in the air, don’t you think? Maybe that,
or it’s just the fact that 344 LOVES YOU
I’d say that this monster is SpongeBob’s evil twin.
Mr. Gringlestum is feeling blue—you’ve got that right. It’s tax season, and no one likes tax season. To make matters worse, he’s an accountant! All those tax forms for all those monsters; he hasn’t even gotten around to his own taxes, poor thing.
He’s extra grumpy today because he had to miss his aerobics class. He got all suited up in his purple spandex pants and everything, only to be pulled into a 4-hour long morning conference call.
But cheer up Mr. Gringlestum, it’s Hump Day, and a sunny one at that. Go for a jog and enjoy the sunshowers.
Cantankerous? No way! He feels absolutely sick. That’s the reason why he looks so truculent. the pure nature attacked him. crawling spiders, ants and other spooky little creatures wannna live with him, unfourtunately in his tight purple pants. Ouch! Now the only thing he wants to do is, so fast as he can travelling home. And now and forever he deleted the word camper out of his brain.
Poor Drucilla. You really thought that the lavender pants would make a difference, that love dwells in the very fabric. But the boys still laugh and the dogs still run in fright. For beauty can’t be found in trousers, nor in the curve of your massive chin, but in the 13-chambered heart that beats — thump thump! — in the rock cartilage of your hump.
Exclaimed Quasimodo after eating Notre Dame’s biggest bell at a single blow.
“Ding-Dong” it answered from inside.
Hey, I ain’t mad. This is how I look when I’m smilin’. Been singin’ the blues for the last 20 years in the pool hall downtown and finally signed my first recording contract.
It’s a monster that can’t decide what to wear. It’s wearing high heels, purple pants and couldn’t decide or find a suitable shirt to wear so he wore a small baby monster shirt on his hand. He doesn’t blend with the crowd, although that is why this monster gets all the ladies.
I’m not sure how you decide on your youtube links when you say “344 LOVES YOU” but i really enjoy them all. If you’re looking for ideas at all, check this one out: http://youtube.com/watch?v=AHooqncXVJM
Elizabeth could not wait to get to the party! Just hours earlier she’d been agonizing over what to wear. Struggling with pantaloons and bustieres, none of which complimented her shapeless frame – she’d nearly given up – resigned to once again show up in blue jeans and a t-shirt.
However…as fate would have it…she was passing by Sackcloth’s Fourth Avenue when she saw the most fetching lavender spandex leggings in the window! Several minutes later, she was admiring the shiny sausage-casing look on her squat little legs.
On her way out of Sack’s, an opportunistic shoe saleslady convinced her that adding high-heeled boots to her ensemble would further enhance her sexy-reckless monstrous beauty. Never one to disregard blatant flattery, Elizabeth tottered out of the store in electric tape black boots (thank heavens they were all man-made materials – E was a strict vegetarian!)
She made her way down the street, her heart singing and her toes ready to take on the dance floor!
170 is indeed, not a happy camper. First of all, everyone keeps calling him “170” (his name is Earnie). Secondly, his parents just sent him to Hockey Camp – even though he only plays the eukelele. As if that wasn’t enough, his mom only packed him tight purple pants for the entire camping trip. With hockey players. He’s going to to get beat up for sure. Poor Earnie.
Poor Ernie, indeed. :^D Now… would his instrument of choice actually be the eeeeeeewh-kulele?
Dressed in his finest lilac slacks, Gordon was ready. Two slips of paper were fighting for air in his skin tight back pocket—front row seats to Miley Cyrus. Time to pick up Delilah and off to the show. Sweeeet.
Old Montgomery was in the pleasantest of moods on his way home from work; he had just landed a giant contract with his strict, hard-nosed boss and had recieved some hard-to-come-by compliments on his work and dedication.
Montgomery had decided to surprise his wife with a single daffodil and an already-made dinner. He spent a fortune on transportation home (he usually took the bus but was in the mood for spoiling himself). The evening was looking good and Montgomery was hoping that work tomorrow would yield a promotion, or a raise at least.
When Montgomery got home, he found his wife, Priscilla, already in a good mood. She welcomed the take-home food because it meant she wouldn’t have to prepare the same old thing (of which she and Montgomery were getting tired of). Montgomery told Priscilla his wonderful news and they ate their dinner happily.
After dinner, Montgomery learned of the source of Priscilla’s good mood before he got home: she went ahead and bought tickets and made reservations for a vacation at a spa resort when he had already told her that he didn’t want to go (they had already discussed their vacation plans. She wanted to go to the spa resort and he wanted to take a ski vacation.) Montgomery was in a sour mood the rest of the night, imagining himself with cucumber scrub all over his face.
Orange, glowing heat crawled across the surface as Dalton took a long pull on his cigarette. Despite wearing his favorite light pinkish-purple pants, the cherry embers of his hourly smoke were the only clue to his presence in the alley.
Jeremy came around the corner of 23rd and Bolden passing the entrance to the dark crevices of the city without incident. Stepping up to the door, Jeremy quietly entered his home. Dalton squelched the cigarette under his foot and cracked his knuckles. Just as he stepped forward, a figure leaped over the back wall and landed stealthily in front of him. “What ‘ave we ‘ere? Bit of ah gnat, ya?”
Dalton raised a beefy fist and swung surprisingly quick at the unknown individual. After the daze of striking nothing but air, Dalton spun where he stood to try to find his target. Just as he spied the potential recipient of a classic hammering, he felt a sharp sting at his temple. He stood motionless for a moment before falling hard. The shadows swallowed his corpse as well as the figure who unwittingly spared Mr. Stenson’s life.
I’ve met this broad once before; and trust me, you DO NOT want to run into her in the alley behind Smokey’s after she has had her fill of Birch Beer Floats. It is NOT a pretty sight… just… trust me on this one 🙁
poor poor aldo, he couldn’t draw or play the banjo because he had one fat finger with two opposable thumbs, this made him truculently tetchy, particularly at tax time, for you see he could only sign his name with an X and only on wednesdays
Wow! … I am spellbound – speechless.
Your blog looks awesome -it is the best of bests I ever saw. Thank you.
I would be happy to see you on my blog Candleday (and all my other locations on a web too, of course)I hope you will enjoy my pictures and I will get some feedback. Thank you once again.
Till meeting on http://candleday.wordpress.com
“Sackcloth’s Fourth Avenue”
Mr. Botham is currently frustrated, yet slightly pleased. His roommate did the laundry again and put his purple sock in with Mr. Botham’s favorite white pants. Completely ruined! But then Mr. Botham remembered these shoes which go fabulously with the shade of purple. Tonight he plans to wear them out to a dinner party with his friends: Mrs. Deno, Mr. Hawtha, and Mr. Patana.