DAILY MONSTER 179
Good morning. Happy Friday to you! I hope you had a great week,
and that you’re all set for a lovely, mellow weekend.
Why not ease into it with yesterday’s great tales of Monster 178:
Gesundheit, everybody!
And Hello from Monster 179:
179 seems happy. I like that. Why do you think he’s in such fine spirits?
And what glorious teeth he’s got! Is that the result of good dental hygiene,
or did his agent tell him to get his real teeth capped?
I hope you’ll share your theories and…
Have a marvelous, mellifluous model
of a modern major weekend, safe
in the knowledge that 344 LOVES YOU
Monsters 180 and 181 will be waiting for you
Saturday and Sunday respectively.
Harrison loved the weekly disco party at his neighborhood’s recreation center. He was no John Travolta, that was true–but when he put on his white pants and platform shoes and the multicolored light from the ancient disco ball hit his pearly whites, he was *something*.
The question was, what…
Wonky the donkey is in such a good mood, because he’s got glowing in the dark jelly.
He painted all his teeth with it. And now and forever he will never need any light in the night.
So I was in a bar the the other night when a monster with the biggest beard and mouth in the world came to me. “Hay man, got any food man. Man, I’m like..really jonesin’ for some food, some real food man. Strawberries. Man! I want some strawberries….and a BANANA! MIXED TOGETHER! CAN’T YOU SEE THE MADNESS? AWWW MAN!” and he went and on like that, just chatting away about the food. Though sometimes he’d bring a line or two about car his mom back in the 80s, some minivan or something. “Oh MAN! I smelled horrible! Like god took a crap in it MAN…and like…could I have some Strawberries man… and a BANANA! Mixed together…THE MADNESS MAN!” and he just went on like that for hours, never stopping. So finally, after what seemed like years has passed, he stopped talking and sat down. I thought he was tired, because by then he looked like it, but the more I looked at him the more he seemed to grow…and grow, until he was a huge black balloon. I stood amazed, and then suddenly. POP! his body blew away into little tiny bits leaving a Strawberry, a Banana, mixed together in a small blue minivan that sat on the stool. It tasted like peas.
I’ve been riding thru the desert on a horse with no name……it felt good to be out of the rain.
Here’s the horse without a body either. At least he has teeth.
what..what are you lookin at?…yup, that’s what they call me..I am the famous Shiny Mc Headoverheels…at your service? Yes, yes…I am that fast..Oh, you saw me jump?….let me tell you, I can do anything…well just you wait…what?..you don’t believe me….well…come here…let me show you how I can kick you into the nickel seats…the nerve…they just don’t know how famous I am….
Midnight in Chihuahua was not a friendly sight. Deviants around here like to feed off the intensity in the air. Maybe it’s because this is also the same time Queso Fresco and Menudo is being made for all those hungover droogs that have been swimming in bottles of cheap Pancho Villa tequila that comes in a plastic container and sells for 4 pesos a pop.
Not me though friends. I had to remain alert. I was wearing my finest three piece suit with rhinestones. I like to jog at night time, so the rhinestones help drivers see me as they pass by. That’s my excuse. I walked down Ave. Porfidio Diaz where all the action was. Small bordellos, shiny boots, little boys and girls selling gum, and taco stands in every corner waiting for the man to ask for a double sudado special which consist of two tacos soaked in oil and stuffed with refried beans. Delicious. I had to order some for myself. “Pedro, gib mi tu tacos.”
-Pssst.
-” Yu want to see the nicest mamacitas? I have them here, for yu.”
I took a deep swallow from my tacos and gently rolled my eyes towards the side trying to figure out who was talking to me without being so obvious. It was a Peludo! I knew it would be without having to fully turn around. The smell of cheap Don Huevos Cologne gave him away. These type of Peludos like to come out at night. They try to blend in with the crowd by wearing their finest 5 inch gold disco souls and casting a perpetual smile at any costs. I didn’t buy it.
I gently put down my now transparent paper plate that had been soaked with grease and with the other hand, try to reach inside my pocket for my camera. I turned around as fast as I could. ” I got yu hombre!!” ……nothing. Damn. Pedro, the taco stand gentleman started to chuckle louder and louder.
There are some things I know these town people keep under the rug. I added this sighting to my notebook. This one I named “Botitas DeOro”.
His face was long as usual, though a grin appeared for the first time in ages. New shoes seem to have that affect on Tim, especially those new roller Heely’s. Down the hill he goes. Wheeeeee!
Luke is truly the grooviest, coolest monster here. What makes him so cool? you ask. Why his totally awesome bell bottoms, DUH! Every monster around wants them, but they can’t have them. He needs them for doing the hokey pokey. Right now he’s at the “You put your head in” part.
“117392.”
Meticulous in his findings, but always so sterile when recording to whom those findings belonged. Edgar rather enjoyed this part. It almost seemed like a hobby. A gleeful past time jotting down all the tiny little details. Each bit of information in its correct column and row. They were all just numbers to him. And a lot of numbers they were.
“117393.”
He’d crack a smile on that last one. Took him months to reconcile that particular project. There were several issues preventing him from adding that one to the “Done” pile. Always managing to elude his clever, exacting plans. His methodic mind had to work overtime to acquire this one.
“117394.”
He drew open the cold, steel drawer to slide in the first of this latest batch. The ball bearings sliding across the all but frozen guides gave an eerie screech. He shoved the first one in with care, so as not to scuff or mar the pristine nature of it all. The drawer clicked shut allowing another to be pulled open. Edgar didn’t mind the icy touch of the handle as he inserted the second into its forever home. Just as he grabbed for the third drawer, Patricia rounded the corner.
“Edgar, here’s the new set of accounts for the audit. You’ve really been cranking these out – you might make Accounting Manager yet! We really do need to ask Facilities to do something about the temperature in here, though. It’s like a morgue.”
Feem pressed his face against the invisible force field a little bit more. The buzzing tickled the heck out of his nosehair.
‘Man, I wish someone would take a picture of this. This is so brilliant! Leaning your face up against an invisible force field! I bet it’s never been done before!’
The reverberation hid the microscopic hordes of bacterium that disproved Feem’s guess.
He went and got invisible face-cooties, but giggled as he got them.