DAILY MONSTER 82
Good morning. and a special welcome to those of you visiting from Core 77, Wooster Collective, Katalyst At Large, and NotCot.
How’s the week treating you so far? I hope things are going well for you. I’m happy to say that my DSL is finally restored! Really this time. Knock on wood! But it looks like the past eight days of tech support woes have somehow left a psychic mark. If you’re watching today’s monster with small children, you might want to be a bit careful. It’s a mean one.
But more of that later. Right now, I invite you to take a look at yesterday’s great collection of stories:
And, if you’re so inclined, please drop by lawrence.com where Chris Tackett conducted a little interview with me about the Daily Monster. Find out about the reasons behind the monsters and about my excellent selection of pens.
Monster 82 is a Slasher. I’ll leave it to you if he’s just acting—looking for a break in the next Wes Craven picture—or if he’s an actual blood-thirsty killing machine. Maybe he’s really very sweet under his gruesome facade. Just in case, though… I’m staying at a safe distance. You know this guy has a story. Will you please fill us in on his police record?
Please stay safe, but if you are ever in danger,
get out the pepper spray and yell
at the top of your lungs: 344 LOVES YOU
Then try to run away while your attacker
looks at you in confusion.
Data is not found.
Monster eighty-two is lost
In Revvers expanse.
Of course, as soon as I post my little Haiku, Monster 82 is up and running.
First it was ketchup as a veggie and pearl tapioca in the lunchroom.
Then it was metal detectors at every door.
Now it’s this need breed of crossing guards.
All the little kiddies having nightmares every nite…..*evil laugh* So much for Dick and Jane.
Benjamin had no problem picking up chicks it was what to do with them afterward that confused him.
Monster nutter with
Flesh cut like butter
I’m all a-flutter.
Gash of my heart!
Not sure if it qualifies as an easter egg, but I noticed the new “post yours at dailymonster.com” speech bubble at the end today.
“Looks kinda like that Frank guy. You know, from Donnie Darko.”
Clancey Verrückt hears it all the time. Quick jab to the jugular shuts ‘em up every time though. He just goes into a zone, loses it a bit. “My name’s not Frank! Stomp! Stomp!”
Steer clear, that mofo’s crazy.
You have the best website I have ever seen, and I love your monsters. I am in awe.
The circular blade pierced through the soft edge and rolled straight across the entire length available. Red covered the silvery surface and seemed to clutch to it rather than slide off with ease. It was stainless steel, but it was heavily stained now. No denial of the visceral slicing it left in its wake.
Kasuchev knew what he was doing. His actions almost medical in their execution. One. Two. Three. Four. The slicing was without pause or remorse as the red adhered to the blade and oozed out over the yellow-white, protective covering. Chunks of sticky meat pushed about if not immediately severed. It was sharp. Far sharper than it likely should have been, but Kasuchev was methodical with his instruments. With their use and their upkeep. His hair stood high; excited with every stroke. Every stroke that produced the color he so loved to see. He kept a rhythm by tapping his back foot, as he sang a little cackle of a song – to accompany every deep slice. He moved in front of an especially thick subject for his blade. Not even bothering to clean his tool before piercing it swiftly. A long glide along the center.
Kasuchev stood in front of the long line of sliced pieces before him. Each one, a work of art to him. He took pride in every thing he saw in that row. All lined up perfectly one next to another. All precisely sliced according to some measurement he held tight in his little brain. He would not be scorned or ridiculed or chastised for the insides spilling out over the shielding layer. Kasuchev was good at what he did, and he knew it. Even if none of his customers did. They just wanted their pizzas. His favorites had the most sauce.
“I demand another quad latte extra sprinkles on top! I am the customer and the customer is always right – I’ve not had too much coffee, man, and if you do not back away from the coffee vault I am prepared to take extreme cutting measures to breach the hull! Now get steaming or get stepping!”
yesss!! most awesome! I forgot – I was going to suggest that for a t-shirt, I would vote for anything with teeth, because I luuurve the way you draw teeths. And here you went and drew ’em!
great stories today, everyone.
I like the new tag-end, too.
doing the DSL happy dance for ya!
And visitors from dooce.com too!
Great blog !
What good are perfect teeth if you have a bad hair day? I ask you: If March doesn’t come soon – this dry weather will completely ruin my look. Pass the static guard, please.
Hi. I like Monsters. Monster 2 is good. Monster 82 is good too. I haven’t seen all of them. I plan to. My story for 82: His name is K-FWAP. K-FWAP is a starving tamborinist. He’s and urban camper, a destitute trying desparately to get back on his feet and re-live his glory days on the road with his bandmates, who died tragically a number of years ago in a freak pyrotechnic accident on stage…
Sie nennen Ihn alle Käpt’n Hoock den Kuchenkiller. Des nachts, wenn die Kuchen der fleissigen Monsterfrauen ruhen, schleicht er sich krümeldrünstig in Küchen, Speisekammern, Keller und Kühlschränke. Er zersägt zähneknirschend die schönsten Gebäckkunstwerke in feinste Krümel. Manch einer wird sich nun fragen…warum? Die Psychologie hilft einem da leider nicht weiter, allerdings ein Sprung an den Anfang seiner Lebensgeschichte. Als Mehlwurm geboren, nun mutiert zum Monster, ist zwar sein Aussehen verändert worden, jedoch nicht seine Vorliebe für Kleinpartikliges.
I am not sure how this blog works but #82 is not a monster, it’s my dental hygeinist.
Hi Lorri, sometimes I’m not sure how this blog works, either, but I’m pretty sure you’re right. Be careful at your next cleaning. Don’t get eaten! (And thank you for the comment, too. :^)