Happy Floating Head Day!


This poor decapitated creature is the beginning of a Top Secret Project that will hopefully be done by the end of the week. So stay tuned for that. Hint: it will solve global warming.


Happy Crank it to Eleven Day!


My elementary school music teacher was a shrewish woman, about 4’8″ and with eyes that bugged clear out of her head, who wore high heels every day, scooted around on them with a vengeance, ruled the music room with an iron fist, and screeched in a voice that should never have been allowed to touch the ears of children. Despite all of this and my constant hatred of her (bolstered by the fact that she always gave the singing solos to precious teacher’s pet BRENNA and not me), I still developed a zen for music and have loved it ever since. Even though I can’t ever hear “God Bless America” without being reminded her standing at the front of the room and teaching it in sign language for some reason, always squealing on the “WHITE WITH FOOOOAAAAAM!!”

Anyway, today’s monster is a request from a musical genius friend of mine. He asked if I could make a monster out of music, to which I replied, “I can make a monster out of anything.” Hopefully this will not result in a barrage of requests to make a monster out of irony or dignity or the taste of strawberries.

PS. I originally typed the first sentence of this with the typo “ruled the music room with an iron fish.” How awesome would that be?

Happy Leave a Train of Slime Day!


I had some Brazilian food over the weekend, and in the process rediscovered my love for the yuca, a long, brown tuber that, let’s face it, looks kind of like a turd BUT tastes like the potato of the gods. If gods ate potatoes. Which they don’t, because we all know the gods eat nothing but massive quantities of Doritos.

Anyway, this little mouseslug is kind of shaped like a yuca, except for the giant ears. Ironically, the yuca I ate DID happen to have giant ears, but that’s only because I live in a radioactive waste dump.

Happy Up and Atom Day!


I’m pretty much a hot mess. I can’t eat or drink a single molecule of food or drink without spilling it all over my clothes. Most of my wardrobe has been rendered unwearable, though this hasn’t seemed to stop me from wearing said splotchy clothes out in public, much to the dismay of my friends and loved ones.

So imagine my lack of surprise when I ruined yet another outfit this weekend – both shirt and pants all at once, a new record. I win. After a fruitless trip to the laundromat, I once again sighed in resignation and tossed the now useless rags atop the heap of victims before them.

But wait! an inner voice yelled inside my head. BUT WAIT! it kept repeating, over and over. It sounded vaguely familiar…urgent, deafening, and oh so persuasive at five in the morning…

As you have immediately guessed, it was the ghost of Billy Mays. So the next day I arrived home with a renewed spirit and a giant tub of OxiClean. And I have this to say: OXICLEAN IS SENT FROM THE ANGELS ABOVE, ONE OF WHICH POSSESSES A LARGE, DISTURBINGLY ROBUST BEARD.

I’m normally not one for product endorsement, but holy crap. Soak for a few hours, wash, rinse, no stains to speak of. As soon as I can scrape enough quarters out of the local wishing wells to do laundry, I plan to pour all contents of the Miracle Bucket into the bathtub, followed by my entire closet, and soak the everliving crap out of my soon-to-be-reborn clothes.

So I made this monster that sort of resembles an atom, in honor of the scientific breakthrough that is OxiClean, which, for those of you who are not chemists such as myself, is made from OXYGEN. It’s SCIENCE, people.

Happy Inevitable Failure Day!


Well, this was bound to happen. I missed a day. I had somewhat anticipated this, though Human Monster insists that he had foreseen it with far more clarity (I believe the words “you’ll quit as usual” were involved). But what with my exhaustive plans for world domination, training for the Iditarod, and my burgeoning stamp collecting career, there are only enough hours in the day.

However, this doesn’t mean the monsters will stop. I’ll do my best, even at the risk of Sean Connery popping up out of nowhere to tell me that only losers whine about their best (see: The Rock). (No really, see it. It’s always awesome to watch Nicholas Cage save the world from annihilation, despite the fervent desire to punch him repeatedly in the face.)

Today’s monster, appropriately, came out of another failure. I was going for different sort of design, but it crashed and burned and looked pretty terrible. So I tore it apart and put it back together in a completely different way instead, laughing maniacally in my bell tower amidst a storm of lightning. Now I think he looks sort of like the Tivo guy, which is fine with me, since DVRs are the best thing ever invented. Where else could I possibly store an entire year’s worth of Lifetime movies? IN MY SHAMEFUL CLOSET?

Happy Fishbomb Day!


I have christened this guy Fishbomb, because he looks like a bomb with eyes, and also sort of resembles a fish. Though if you happen to catch something like this on one of your many fly fishing expeditions (I watch you every weekend), you might want to throw it back, because it bites. Also, it has eye stalks, which are inherently creepy. Just say it. Eye stalks. Ugh.

Happy Be Mad At The World Day!


Maybe this guy’s angry because he burned his waffles this morning. Or because he fell out of bed. Or because he lost his favorite comb (just a guess). Then again, it’s just as likely that he’s irked that he’s got a bunch of mumps all over him and slightly resembles a Katamari.

But the point is, it doesn’t matter. Everyone, even monsters, are allowed to be completely bitter at the universe for no reason at all every once in a while. So seethe on, little bumpy thing. We know how you feel.