DAILY MONSTER 38



Good morning. Thank you for checking in. I hope you're having a day of excellent and uneventful holiday digestion. I hope that wherever you work, you're getting time off between the holidays. I've got two books waiting for me this week and I hope I'll actually get to read them, too. (They are Moab is My Washpot and Don't Get Too Comfortable, in case you're curious.) I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Victoria and first-time contributor/long-time 344 friend Azalea both feel that Monster 37 went so crazy flying around the globe, delivering gifts that he grew two extra eyes. Which is pretty crazy. I've been really stressed at times, but I've never grown more than a few extra fingers and half of an extra spleen. Four eyes? That guy clearly needs a vacation. Azalea ups the stakes, though, and says that 37 started bleeding from his eyes, too. Which is disturbing in a very Catholic Virgin Mary sort of way. Maybe it's the fumes from his tar beard? "More on that later," says Azalea. I should hope so! Talk about a cliffhanger! Thank you for posting, Azalea. I'm looking forward to seeing more stories from you in the days to come.

Stephanie forwarded us words straight from the creature's mouth. (It's always good to get a first-hand account.) Turns out that 37 has powerful laser eyes, but likes to keep that fact hidden. Wise choice, I think. Stephanie's monster also sounds a bit like Ali G., but that might just be my take on his accent. I'm sure his lip fronds must make proper enunciation somewhat difficult.

Schlockading continues his story from yesterday. Apparently, 37 is the post-volcanic radioactive mutation of 36. Which makes perfect sense! It also explains why his hat is so stretched out. After all, this isn't Marvel Comics where David Banner's pants mysteriously grow with him to Hulk size.

Sam B. reports of Quadro, who got LEDs implanted in his eyes to distract himself from his thwarted holiday ambitions. How much do you want to bet, Sam, that somebody's going to come up with that very operation in the next 10 years? It'll be the grillz of 2017.

An extra cheer goes to Schlockading's mom, who put together a Daily Monster Kit (just like this one) as a Christmas gift for the Schlockster. Hats off! Good job, Mom! Schlockading, please send me a link to some of the monsters you cook up and I'll post them here.

Now, on to Monster 38. Something is making all these monster eyes go crazy. Maybe it's something in the water? Or is 38 actually bobbing along on a lake made of some alien liquid? What does it eat? Can it fly? Can it walk? Can it discuss Hegelian philosophy? Or the trade deficit of Zanzibar? What do you think? I'd love to hear your theories!

I'll leave you with this final thought for the day: Studies have shown that nothing you eat between now and the New Year will make you gain weight! Have a great, short week! And remember: 344 LOVES YOU

P.S.: Like ships passing in the night, Crimson posted a continuation of the Tale of the Arctic Shadow Imp while I was writing my nightly story round-up. As it turns out, the pain of Santa's stubbed tow rewired his nerves into making his eyes flash red. Instead of causing Santa pian, that is. Santa doesn't have time for that kind of thing. (He also has moral stereo vision! That's a new feature!)

Also rolling in just now: The return of The Respected Taxonomist Kukuttan! Would you look at that? It's like a present that hid itself all the way by the base of the tree, back there in the shadows. Good to have you back, TRTK! And you come bearing a truly different point of view! 37 isn't a monster, it's a house! A most peculiar house in a most peculiar location. Do check out the story.

TRTK also challenges the recent direction of the monsters, their seeming transition to more and more humanoid forms. Monster 38 should put that worry to rest. Monsters are made of Id Ink. They manifest however they feel like manifesting. I'm just there to film the event.

Oh, lest I forget to mention it: A few of you commented on the P'uh! sound. I'm glad to know I'm not alone in remembering it. TRTK posted a link to a sound file that is not the P'uh sound, but includes something very close. Beyond that, it's very funny in it's own right. It also startled my girlfriend's cat Mavis, who had been and is now once again sleeping next to me. Good night, Mavis! Good night, y'all!

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One more late night addition: I just received a message from monster lurker Victoria, who posted a lovely paragraph on the site at her blog. More importantly, she made an excellent drawing of herself watching the monsters. Thank you, Victoria! Victoria also does some very nifty stop motion animation. Take a look!

14 Comments

  • 26 December 2006 5:22 am

    I got YOUR book for christmas. which is quite ironic, as I got it for my BIRTHDAY 3 months ago. anyway, I will pass it on to someone worthy 🙂
    i love this monster. his eyes are crazy…
    i will stop by later to see what’s brewing

  • 26 December 2006 7:49 am

    You need to see my qualifications? I’ll tell you: I’m a showgirl by trade, an entertainer at heart. I’ve got my own costume and everything, but you’ll need to build me a pool to perform in. What? No, I wouldn’t rather go “see if” those freaks over at Cirque du Soleil have an opening, thank you very much! Yes, yes, I know everything in that show “O” is done is water–but I don’t speak no freakin’ Canadian. What? Oh, thank you. You know, if you hadn’t given me the job just now I’d have had to beat you severely about the groin with my wading appendages.

  • 26 December 2006 8:58 am

    C.E.P.W.A. (Cracky-eyed pelicanic waterfowl anonymous)
    —Hi, my name is Geert.
    —Hi Geert. (The crowd responds languidly)
    This was the fifth meeting they had all attended together. Fear of cracky-eyed pelicanic waterfowl is as rare as the birds themselves. But those tormented by the little buggers live their days in fright.
    —(Geert) Every night, I feel my chest tighten. I hate going to sleep. They’re in my dreams, the little floating bastards. I’ve had the same nightmare for the past six years. It always starts out in a deep, black darkness. I’m standing on a pier. The salt water is so potent; I can almost taste it in my sleep. A heavy sea fog rolls over the ancient wood planks beneath my feet. It can’t be but three feet wide, black water licking up through the slats. It doesn’t feel like I’m walking on the wood at all, but on the surface of the water. The fog makes it impossible to see the shore. I’m out in the middle of the ocean for all I know. I can sense something out in the water, somewhere close. Looking at me. Waiting for me. I don’t have anything to protect myself from it though, and feel completely vulnerable. I always drop something, my wedding ring, cell phone, or watch. Something important to me, something I need to find. When I lean down, my only thought is that I hope it hasn’t fallen into the water. As I feel for the object, with my hands outstretched, the fog begins to lift. Suddenly, before my eyes, I see its hypnotic stare meet mine. It’s followed me the entire time. Waiting for the right moment. It’s only about a foot away from my face. I can’t move from my spot. I feel like my body is glued to the planks. Just before the monster lunges for my face, I wake up in a cold sweat. I usually can’t get back to sleep afterward.
    —(Group leader) Thanks for sharing Geert.
    —(Crowd) Thanks Geert.
    The meetings were going well so far. They all had hopes and dreams their fear would soon dissipate. But discussion on carnivorous waterfowl will always be fodder for fearful folk.
    Attendance at C.E.P.W.A. has grown strong after the first few meetings. It seems the problem is not as rare as once believed. Luckily for folks like Geert, there are people out there who share his fear, and are willing to talk to him about it.

  • 26 December 2006 10:57 am

    Well, it looks like old Blork the Water Guard is up to something yet again. He was hired several years ago to watch guard over Lake Abcdefghijklnopqrstuvwxyz (that’s pronounced ab-kuh-def-gidge-klum-nop-kwer-stuv-wux-iz). Wow, what a tongue-twister! Anyway, he’s zapped a good deal of intruders in his day, although his vision has been failing ever since he had to move his optic nerves out of the nutrient-rich water and into his head. That was a painful experience, and he didn’t even hire a surgeon! Now, he looks out to the south in case a stray ship sailed by a Giop alien comes within a mile of his firing range. What else do you think he has that red tongue for? To eat? Oh, come on.

  • Stephanie
    26 December 2006 5:03 pm

    It was a cool autumn afternoon at the Gatekeeper pond. Franklin enjoyed his after lunch swim this day, like he did everyday. The wind was mild and the water was just perfect. He smiled to himself as he paddled around, admiring all the changing leaves, basking in the sunlight.
    BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
    Suddenly the warning beeps from his battery pack went off. Realizing that he only had 16 seconds until his Auto Legs lost power, he began to panic. I will be stuck in the middle of the pond FOREVER!! he silently screamed in his head. WHAT WILL I DO THEN!?
    Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a shiny cylindrical object in the grasses on the shore. A Battery!! Go Auto Legs! Go, go, go! he demanded of his mechanical legs. With only seconds to go before he lost the use of his legs, he got to the shore and swallowed the battery. Oh, if only Franklin could read.
    Franklin now sits, dead in the water, unable to swim or paddle. He tells stories to passers by; tales of Auto Legs and afternoon swims. He reminds himself of the good old days when he could move about freely. Poor Franklin, unable to move, for what he thought was a battery, was a can of Bud Light. And now, he sits in the middle of Gatekeeper pond, with a that can lodged in his throat, and no power to move his Auto Legs. Poor, poor Franklin.

  • 26 December 2006 9:42 pm

    Ok, when did X-acto knives become a legal tool?? I protest.

  • 26 December 2006 11:41 pm

    Hi Dave. Excellent! You’re the first official Monster Purist! I merely channel the monsters. This one demanded pre-sliced eyeballs. Who am I to refuse?

  • 27 December 2006 12:37 am

    Hi Amy! Thank you to the two cool people who have given you copies of my book, and to you for being nice enough to re-gift it! That’s mighty decent of you. I hope 2007 will bring you lots of success!

  • Amy
    27 December 2006 1:45 pm

    my pleasure. loved the book… i read it often for inspiration.
    really enjoyed your presentation at the How Conference last year… the four designers at my company attended, and we all enjoy your blog 🙂 they are too lazy to post though!!

  • 27 December 2006 8:12 pm

    Wow….what fun. Glad I found your site.
    Wow….what talent !! Really.
    And your camera makes a clear, crisp video.
    Thanks from Dixie

  • 29 December 2006 6:37 pm

    You got Moab? Woo! *loves Stephen Fry* The website I created before my current one was about him.

  • Keisha, 5th grade
    30 April 2007 1:25 pm

    Monster #38
    Looks like he’s beat up
    But drinks from a sippy cup.
    He’s nice from 100 years ago,
    but he’d rather sit in a boat and row.
    Even though his eyes are cool,
    He’s got to take a dip in the pool.
    He thinks the class can’t see him,
    But he really just needs his hair trimmed.
    Can we end the story right here?
    ‘Cuz if we don’t he’s going to get near.

  • sue bebie
    15 April 2008 3:57 am

    Traurig dümpelt das verschüchterte Monstertier im Trüben. Klare Gewässer meidet es aus Angst seinem Spiegelbild begegnen zu müssen. Für seine Mitmonster eine Genfehlerfigur zum Witzereissen, für seinen Schöpfer???
    Monsterzeichener mit harten Stiften aber weichem Herzen haben einen weltweiten Spendenaufruf gestartet, der die Anschaffung eines monstertauglichen Retouchierstifts zum Ziel haben soll.
    Um das Leid der armen, kleinen, piepsenden Kreatur sofort etwas zu lindern, ist kluger Rat gar nicht so teuer.
    Sich an die Worte des Liedes aus dem alten Kinderliederschatz zu halten, würde vorerst Abhilfe schaffen. Dies bedingt allerdings den Kauf eines ententauglichen Schnorchels, da das “Schwänzlein in die Höh..” über einen längeren Zeitraum zu erheblichen gesundheitlichen Problemen führen würde.
    Es wäre durchaus auch noch die Möglichkeit in Betracht zu ziehen, mit dem Inhalt der kleinsten Tippex-Flasche die monsterlichen Verunstaltungen ein wenig zu kaschieren. Ein Tropfen auf den heissen Stein,…deshalb ein letzter Spendenaufruf der Erzählerin.
    Weiiiissss an 344!!!

  • 25 October 2008 11:30 am

    Oh, my God! You are so amazing! I’m pretty good at drawing myself and my role model used to be Skottie Young. I don’t know if you have heard of him but forget him. You are awesome! Jeez! I love your ideas and technique. Please visit my site and MAYBE tell me if I can improve on anything… Thank you!
    – Dan

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