The Casual Squid

Casual Squids are full of tricks.

Namely one—they are never casual about anything.

Especially dinner. 

Tomatoface Killah

I never met a Tomatoface Killah I didn’t like.

EXCEPT FOR THIS ONE.

Ollenulus Peepus

Let’s pretend for a second that it’s Easter—

You’re with your entire family. The Easter Bunny showed up trailing baskets stuffed with decorative grass. Your house reeks of the lamb cooking in the oven that your mom only makes for your dad on special occasions because it smells so strongly.

You are, of course, holding the traditional holiday candy called “Peeps” in your hand which you gobble all of in under 2 minutes.

You feel almost immediately sick.

Want to know why?

“Peeps,” otherwise known as Ollenulus Peepus, are actually an extinct and fossilized species. When you eat “Peeps” you are therefore eating fossils.

Should you eat fossils? I don’t think so; they undoubtedly cause stomachache.

Be safe this Easter holiday; be Peepless.  

Monster Blood

Besides being a Goosebumps book, Monster Blood also courses through monster veins and arteries. It pumps through monster hearts. 

Octoblossoms

Masquerading as harmless seeds in your crooked garden, Octoblossoms are dangerous crooks. They have crooked teeth, a crooked smile, a bunch of little crooked legs, and crooked little cute skirts.

They will destroy you by hook or by crook.

Probably by crook.

Keep an eye out for their crooked little box houses made of sticky tacky. 

Cat Butt-Head

If you give a mouse a cookie, he’ll want a glass of milk.

If you give a cat some sunglasses, he’ll unleash the horrifying snub-nosed creature that lives in his rear.

In Loving Memory of a Very Stupid Cat: Tiger (1996-2010)

Juanitasaurus

In the news today: Juanitasaurus:

The Juanitasaurus, long thought extinct, has resurfaced in the quiet town of Post Mills, Vermont. This town, located five miles past Old City, VT and only 2 miles short of Beanville, VT, is enjoying its newfound sense of worth and glory.

“I’m not dead yet,” a 40 foot-long banner strung out across the town’s one mobile station accurately proclaims, because the strangest part of this story is that the Juanitasaurus is, in fact, alive.

Local 6 year old dinosaur expert John Little had this to say about this dinosaur’s mysterious living presence: 

Well, it’s not dead, but it’s really slow. I think no one knew it was alive because it looks like wood, but if you try really hard and don’t blink for a really long time you can see its eyes moving like when dad pretends he’s sleeping on the couch so he doesn’t have to play outside.

What’s next for this slow and steady dinosaur? Locals seem to think it’s ready for the bigtime. Check out their website, and vote to get this giganta-beast its own reality show. 

Monster Hypnosis

My Old Apartment's Face

Self-Addressing Clip

Manhog Drives a 4-Wheeler

Lakes and Crakes

While many believe in a monster (known colloquially as ‘Champ’) who inhabits Lake Champlain, this photo shows disturbing evidence of another type of monster living in these quiet waters—a giant swan (known colloquially-er as ‘Gilberta’?).

Mountster St. Helens

o

Sometimes monsters get so angry that their heads explode. 

Maman

A giant spider invading The National Gallery of Canada:

Symbols are only empty bottles. They function only through what you put in them -- personal symbols mean personal alphabet, our uniqueness is all we have.

 RIP Louise Bourgeois.

Fieldwork

This image of a Smug-Stone was captured in the field (Nevada) by Julia. She said that it burst into a forced and screeching vibrato slathered rendition of Danny Boy, and then fell silent and proud. 

Horizon

A lovingly captured monster-squid painted with watercolors by Greg Stone.

Dino Brush

Trepidly tiptoe down the road—Dino Brush roars tidings of parties from the country roses. 

Bucket Face

Craftily hiding amongst poolside buckets, ol’ Bucket Face’ll tell ya what’s up. He’ll yell ya what’s up. Get ‘im back with a mondo-super-ultra cannonball ta chill ‘im out, ya know?

Golden Phone

Soundtrack to a happy monster’s favorite dream: 

Micachu and the Shapes—Golden Phone

Soul Purpose

I had worked hard for nearly two years for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body.

From Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, a new breed of literary device– the ironic foreshadowing pun, or i-shadun.

Fire (not) Ice

While some people may not think so, I’m inclined to argue that razing malls to the ground and creating widespread panic across a city with conflagrations is a monstrous thing to do. (((--)))

One of my students in a discussion yesterday (before my School was closed) about the many fires in Bangkok spoke with the Thai-style mentality of let’s-not-get-too-worked-up-over-this-thing:

“This means we can’t go shopping!”

BONUS :: A counter argument from friendly smoke. (((--)))

Monster Mash

Monster party theme music:

Yeasayer:  O.N.E. [Secretly Canadian]

Wiggle Toes

If you don’t dance to this song…

…Monsters will turn your heart into a swarm of bees.

Masked Car-Butt

Making a relationship between two contrasting images or ideas is startling and often results in Shock Monsters. The popular animated series “Happy Tree Friends” which juxtaposes cute cartoon animals, and horrifying displays of murder and blood has the strange effect of making the viewer feel a blend of comfort and disgust; she is disarmed.

This Hello Kitty inspired exhaust pipe left me laughing, repulsed and as confused as a crocodile wearing a dress.

Tickled Fickle-Feet

If you don’t dance to this song…

…Monsters will eat all your second cousins.

Pineapple Surprise

A sidewalk pineapple plant struck me as I walked by it. And it hurt. I turned to catch the smacksome villain who dared smite me and saw nothing. I looked again with my Camera Obscura, and found this treacherous roadside beast, eager to cause strife of all varieties. I threatened to chop off its head and eat it, and it quickly groveled while I walked away. By the time I reached the corner I could already hear it giggling again. Alas that my reprimand was overlooked so quickly, but then again, who would eat an unripe pineapple?

At Rest and Play

Monsters lounging in masks- common disguises employed widely and frequently for a variety of purposes. Used here as recreational devices.

 Photographed by Monster-Spotter-At-Large, Kate Neely.

Miniature Howler

This fine example of a Miniature Howler poked its face out at me on my walk to work from its perch on the back of a truck. These creatures are mostly harmless, though thought by many to be pests, and named after the piercing screams they eternally issue. Some experts think that this Miniature variety came first into existence when a Howler (a much larger, nocturnal creature that has a taste for raw chicken) and a robot squirrel mated. Due to its size and ability to forage, the Miniature Howler has infested much of Northern Thailand. 

To Create

I have spent a year and a half of time pouring and tearing hairs out at my book baby. 191 single-spaced pages and half a bald head later, the first draft is finally done.

This whole book is but a draught—nay, but a draught of a draught. Oh, Time, Strength, Cash, and Patience !

While my book is literally “but a draught,” this quote from Moby Dick reflects the appalling and awesome amount of work that still needs to be done.

But for now: Celebration dance!

Cinaverat Fimos: Vacuum Extraordinaire

Young Cinaverat Fimos1, vacuum extraordinaire, enjoyed eating dirt. He also liked to listen to his owner sing covers of Lady Gaga songs about love2 to him. Cinaverat Fimos often didn’t understand the lyrics, but he tried to enjoy the rhythms and notes.

His life started to suck the day he found himself tasting concrete.

“And STAY out,” his owner screamed. Cinaverat Fimos was optimistic and licked the sand off some little sidewalk pebbles.

“Hey, this isn’t too bad,” he thought to himself, “I could get used to this.” Just then two wicked girls ran by and started pushing him around and spitting on him.

              “You SUCK!” They yelled at him, laughing. He nodded, but grew wary of their attentions. He decided to drink a potion that an ancient and wise ironing board gave him a while ago.

           



               When he swallowed it, everyone fell in love with him and chased him around trying to ogle his trash sack. You see, the ironing board had been ancient and senile and had given Cinaverat Fimos a strong philter. It was so strong, that to escape the throngs of civilians, Cinaverat Fimos gave a mighty bound and leapt into a tree. 

             Unfortunately, Cinaverat Fimos, in all his thundering youth and stupidity, forgot that vacuums can’t climb down from trees so he died. Some people say that they can still see the ghostly remains of his fan belt sucking sadly at Vermont treetops, but some people are liars.

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1 Foreshadowing #1 [(Please forgive my (rusty Latin/ dear Aunt Sally)]

2 Foreshadowing #2

Monolith

Near the monkeys and baboons of the Chiang Mai Zoo, this fearsome monolith eternally mouths his tepid putrescence at the live trees swishing above.

Kate snagged this great shot before we made ourselves scarce.

Animal Collective

Monsters make masterful music.

 Idiomatic tragic, they bend ears to their winsome wills.

Jeannie Tate

This video (esp. between the time 3:36 and 3:41) reveals some disturbing evidence: Jeannie Tate is a hilarious monster capable of eating her own face.

Think Tank (Play in One Act)

(Curtain opens to an empty stage. TT, a large, red, metal box sits exactly Center S. ME enters wearing sunglasses and a contemplative expression)

TT—Hey, girl in the sunglasses, what are you thinking about?

ME—(Stops and looks around in confusion) Hmm? Did you just speak to me large red metal sidewalk box?

TT—Yeah, call me Think Tank. What are you thinking about?

ME—Think Tank? Oh, umm I guess I’m just thinking about life. Life and the tomatoes I’m about to buy.

TT—Oh yeah? Life and tomatoes? That sounds pretty complicated. Take a seat and let’s talk it out.

ME—Okay, I’m not really in a rush to get anywhere. Where should I sit?

TT—Come on in, I’m well air-conditioned.

(TT’s face cracks open slightly. The opening reveals a small padded room. ME looks in, but isn’t convinced)

ME—It looks pretty small in there.

TT—Come on, girl, it’s not small, it’s snug. Don’t you remember comfort? Think about my four precise walls touching each other at exactly 90 degrees. Just imagine the luxuries available when everything is right or wrong.

ME—I don’t know…That seems like an over-simplified way of looking at life and problem solving.

TT—Get in already, girl. Hurry up!

(Smoke curls out of TT’s cracked face. Girl starts backwards in a great hurry.)

ME—I really must be going, those tomatoes might be sold out by now, I’ll see you later TT.

(ME trips as she tries to exit Stage R. She falls to the ground and explodes into a million shards of glass. Orchestra begins slow crescendo of warm-up noises.)

TT—(Barely audible over progressively loud orchestra) Grad school will get you girl, even if didn’t today.

(Curtain.)

Teddy Bears

I wake up every morning. I brush my teeth, get dressed, stare blankly at myself in the mirror, and go to work. Then I do everything again the next morning. And the morning after that.

I thought my life would continue on in this comfortable way until the morning I looked out my window1 and saw that the world was really being run by giant teddy bears continuously crawling out of the ocean and eating people.

That shook things up a bit.

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1 “Window” here rhetorically stands in for Sachar Mathias’ tumblr account.

Wilting Wails

The delicately scented trees towering above--

“Have one on me” dripping into my thirsty ears--

My Costco brand sneakers burning up the fitness park trail--

ceased to be important at the sounding of a small incessant wail that left me shaking.

I searched for the epicenter of this low-coming noise. Its found face paralyzed me with a tripping combination of fear and empathy. Here was a once massive beast imprisoned in the thin shell of a leaf. Whatever mage turned this fearsome hulk into something a few inches long left it with the chilling power of wailing.

It sounded like a warning.

I ran away.

Worrisome Fossil

Fossils sometimes appear in unlikely places. Often when this happens in America, instead of slaps on boney wrists, the powers that be give out medals. These naughty bags of bones become known as “State Fossils.” Disregarding the blatant favoritism involved with getting awards (not punishments) for being in unusual places1, let’s look at an example.

The Vermont State Fossil (Delphinapterus leucas, ‘Dauphin’ for short) was found when some 1849y locals dug it up looking for a railroad. They called it “Burt” but were reportedly disappointed by its dull attitude towards life. Upon giving to the government2 it was renamed with much sciencey thought. In 1993 it was given an award for being so whale-like, dead, and Vermonty3.

However many issues I have with fossils and their privileges, I have no bones to pick with their deadness. That is exactly why this recent fossil find of mine is so terrifying.

I have reason to believe that this orange bone is a fossil of some tall and terrifying beast. A beast which roams the streets of Chiang Mai in odious packs. I have yet to see a living form of this monster, but neither have I seen a bodied one in death. They are alive, or they are fossils. I truly am at a loss. Even as I write this I lock my windows and try not to make eye contact with the faces peeping in. 

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1 “Roofs of academic buildings are for keeping rain and snow out of classrooms, NOT for bawdy children to crawl all over.” –Saint Michael’s Security Guard #3

2 Probably still the Green Mountain Boys at this time, although I make no claims as to being a historian.

3 “That was the worst acceptance speech I’ve ever heard in my whole goddamn life.” –Saint Michael’s Security Guard #3

O-Range Bit

I was sprawled reading on concrete steps when I noticed my toes were being nibbled by a puddle of blossoms at my feet. Closer inspection--the “blossoms” were O-range Bits. Closer still—interspecies war: fire ants versus O-range Bits.

O-range Bits (named thusly for their terrifying and fang-ringed ‘O’ mouths) live in trees until the day they plop down. Once arrayed in a pile upon the ground they roil in a Dionysian frenzy of nectar, biting, and being small[1]. In such a state of active energy they attack anything that gets too close, and bit the hardest at feet and small bugs.  

I got away with only a few of my smaller toes missing, but continued to document the plight of the ants and the desperation of the O-Range Bits from afar.

This photo is from the ranks of the fallen Bits and may be a bit graphic for some audiences.

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[1] Lives which seem simple, but are probably just being over simplified here by me. I found it difficult to study this species closely; language barriers (as well as size differences) prevented both a figurative and a literal foothold in their society.