DAILY MONSTER 78
Good morning. Thank you for visiting the monsters on a Saturday. I hope the weekend is starting on a good note for you. Please take a minute to check out yesterday’s excellent tales of monstrosity:
Monster 78 is a graceful thing. Or, at the very least, it attempts to be. It certainly does the best it can and seems happy to be out and about. Is this a creature of the air? Or of the sea? How does it communicate? Who does it communicate with? Where is it off to? Is it microscopic in scale? Or a gigantic beast that could eat your fridge in one gulp and not even burp? I know you have a theory already. I hope you’ll let us in on it:
Have a great, weightless Saturday and if you think you’ll forget this later,
please premember: 344 LOVES YOU
The thermal currents were strong today. Hermie was very happy. He would glide for miles, dive low, swoop the top of buildings. He narrowly missed a satellite dish he hadn’t seen until almost too late. He curved wide and high, returning to the spot the thermal currents were strongest.
Dare he try it today? It had been years since he had performed the Filbert Manuever. Today conditions were perfect. Go for it, he thought.
He gathered up speed and shot for the perfect draft of hot air. POW! Straight up he flew, higher and higher and higher still. He curved, he flipped, he somersaulted over a flock of startled geese.
Exhausted he landed on a nearby rooftop. Yes, flying conditions were perfect and they should remain so for quite some time. There seemed to be an endless supply of warm currents drifting up. Hermie knew he would love living in Washington DC.
[Maybe I shouldn’t have CSPAN on when I stop by your site. Love the monsters. Thanks for the inspiration.]
You know that little humming sound that’s always in your ears? Now we know why. It’s the sound of the Flying Dust Mite Brothers, moving all around you, everywhere.
Just imagine if we could actually SEE them too. What a sight that would be. As many flying mites as the national debt gathered all around you, no matter where you go.
Occasionally, you can feel one near your ear, or your nose, or your eyelash. Try to keep from scratching; it would be a shame to kill them.
Most people would feel lucky to see such a gorgeous spectacle floating gracefully through the night air. Johnathan felt very lucky indeed. He was taking his usual evening walk down Fulsam Street when he noticed shadows flying across the sidewalk. Looking up, nothing was there to be seen. Nothing of any size to cause the shadows he witnessed just moments ago. And it happened again. His gaze dashed about in all directions trying to catch the creator of the darkened gossimer image. He stopped walking.
It lazily flapped its enormous, manta-ray style wings to float on non-existent currents of air. It was the most beautiful site Johnathan had ever seen. How was he so lucky to spy such a wonderous beast?
“He is quite the site to see, isn’t he?” came a question from Johnathan’s right, startling him to make a sudden jump.
The man was wearing a full length black trench coat and it seemed to make no sound as he walked around Johnathan. His footsteps also made no audible que to his presence. “Who are you?”
The man stood in front of Johnathan staring at the odd bird-like creature, then turned his head down to look behind him at Johnathan. “Does it matter? You’ve seen the Elrical. A mythical beast that accompanies death for all that gaze upon it. You, Johnathan Filten, are being collected tonight. You had a chance, but it appears your time is up as you were able to see the Elrical. I don’t really matter, merely the messenger. The Elrical, however, will show me where your next journey lies.”
With that he returned his stare back on the Elrical as its wings began to wave into the air. It’s head waved from side to side and then it spoke.
“It is not the time for the human. The messenger sees me too. The messenger’s time has come. The human replaces the messenger.”
The coat fell to the ground almost immediately as the messenger faded quickly into nothing. Johnathan looked at the coat and without questioning, picked it up and put it on. Instantly, the Elrical turned into a thing of black and poison. Whispy hairs lined its wings and they grew thick with sludge and sloth. It rose into the air, calling back to the new messenger.
“Your time is started. Follow me to the end of your days.”
High flying smile,
He looks like Lovett, Lyle.
Blues For Dixie rocks.
The inspiration for Tom Petty’s Free Falling! Oh no wait. It’s actually Lenny Kravitz’ Fly Away. Definitely less falling and more flying.
It’s the monster mantis of the air!
No really though, you must know that before Magritte, there was Pierre Le Rouette’s ‘ceci n’est pas une monster’.
lovely lyrics, everyone!
Monster rocks! I just heard the droning sounds of Nickelback in my earphones. This site is one of the best I’ve visited so far.
By the way, I’m wondering if you could also drop by my site and check out my myspace song code generator (http://www.profilepitstop.com/generators/song_code/index.php). Let me know what you think. Thanks.
Der Fransenrochen gehört zur Art der Tiefseerochen. Mit seiner riesigen Flossenspannweite fegt er über den Grund. Er gehört zu den grössten Sammlern der Monstermeere. Seinen mit Klebhärchen ausgestatteten Fransen entgeht nichts. Vom Kleinstlebewesen bis zu Monsterschnecken bleibt alles an den Fransen hängen. Und was mal dran ist, bleibt auch dran, und das ist gut so. Ablösen lassen sich seine gesammelten Kostbarkeiten nur mit der vollautomatischen Fransenputz-und Stutzmaschine die er in seiner riesigen Lagerhalle stehen hat.