DAILY MONSTER 181 (of 200)
Good morning. You’re very kind to look in on the monsters
on a Sunday. I appreciate it. Hey, why not start your visit
with some great stories about Monster 180?
Or you might go straight to Monster 181:
Monster 181 appears to be filing some sort of grievance. What do you think he’s complaining about? And to whom is he directing his appeal? Do you think he’ll be heard? Will action be taken? Will somebody cease and/or desist? Will 181 be restored to a state of happiness, or — failing that — to a state of quiet grumbling? What do you think is going on here? If you have a minute, I hope you’ll…
For now, I hope you’re enjoying your Sunday
and that everything is going your way.
Please remember that 344 LOVES YOU
Happiness will be all around him…
His appeal against bureaucracy was heard at last. He will get the new jawcrutch for free from his orthodontist. Walking sticks with integrated little wheels on each side of his enormous monstermouth will help him to get the best balance.
And the greatest thing of this story is, no monstergrumbling and not a to-be-crippled-inside…
He was not someone who asked a great deal of the other monsters in the office. In fact, he asked only one thing–that whoever took the last cup of coffee make a new pot. That was, however, one thing too much.
I think I will call monster 181 Foolas, its just a random name that i could think of.
One day Foolas was walking down Broad Street. Next thing Foolas realized he was soaring through the air. when he managed to turn around he saw his arch enemy Roldford. The next thing Foolas realized he was sitting in an old oak tree. After he climbed down from the tree, he screamed at the top of his lungs,”Nice one, but here’s a hint, Don’t do it again or else!!!!!!!!!!”
This is where we find Monster 181 or foolas.
Hi Stefan. Ich bin gerade ein bisschen deprimiert, nach dem ich dir meine schöne Mail komplett als Youtubecomment gepostet hab (zu Monster 179), spinnt Youtube jetzt, wo ich den entscheidenden Link dazugeben will, rum. Der lautet: http://img388.imageshack.us/img388/8871/tallestmonstertemplatenau7.jpg
Und diesen Post hier kanst du gerne löschen wenn du ihn gelesen hast, ich finde er ist ziemlich fehl am Platz 🙂 Grüße, Niels
This is the monster complainer. He will just complain and complain and complain. Now we find this complainer at the complaint office at, well it doesn’t matter where, he was just complaining kay?
Heres how it went:
“My shoes are too tight.
My brother doesn’t eat right.
My boss is real mean.
I’m so sick i’m turning green.
I feel lonely.
Everyone says I look homely.”
The monster’s head started too grow.
” I hate everyone.
Everyone hates me.”
Now the monster’s head was 5 times the size of his body. He started to float away, complaining still.
” I am late for work.
I was punched by a jerk.”
By now, the monster was too far away to hear what he was saying. His head was still growing and growing. Suddenly there was a pop. The monster’s head had just exploded.
The man at the complaint office sighed with relief.
This monster is named Gresiom. He is so angry because people take all is food away. He has a sword in his shack house. Pena tok away his food because she is the queen and she is so mean to him. He love to play with Stefan Bucher. The evil queen made a spell that turned his head big. Sometimes he cuts the hair on his upper lip off. He can decide whether he wants his small body to be attached to his head or not. erf
This is my math teacher’s pet.
“BUILD THOSE DENDRITES. DO YOUR HOMEWORK.”
Ever since I was just a tiny ink-blot, my dad and I pondered for a long time what my purpose might be. I decided to become a graphic designer like my dad.
Soon I realized that my head was way too big for my eyes to see what my hands were drawing. If God created man in his own image and man went on to create Monsters in his, you don’t have to guess how my dad looks like.
— Simonster
“NO FRIES?” he screamed, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE NO MORE FRIES? I’ve hovered over countless roads and hills and forests and streams to get to this establishment… and I want my burger and fries.”
“What’s that you say? NO BURGERS?…”
Paul’s been in the closet for a long time now, a real, real long time. He’s always wanted to come out of the closet but was scared of how people would react. He didn’t want them judging him without getting to know him. Today he decided to just go ahead and do it — do what he was meant to do. He came out of the closet in full swing.
“RAWR! IMMA EAT CHOO!”
The kids all ran in a hectic uproar screaming things I cannot repeat.
Uggesh once pitched a curveball in the ninth inning to an old gypsy lady who worked at the Department Of Motorized Bureaucracy downtown, and she swung at it.
She struck out that fateful day and his team won the Bleezman Trophy. As she left the batter’s box, she hissed the word
TICKET
at him through her mismanaged dentalwork.
Ever since then.. things have been different for Uggesh. He’s been cursed. Cursed to forever have the last ticket in line at the DMB, to always be turned away from the deli line with order unordered.
It mocks him, the little ‘Now Serving’ box. He checks the red digital numbers on it, and is sure he’s next to be served.
Until he looks down at his ticket, and sees that he still has quite a way to go.
He’s gone three years without pastrami and two without a valid driver’s license. Don’t end up like Uggesh, forever frustrated at his lot in life.
Moral of the story: Pitch slow and underhand to old gypsy women in the playoff games.