Randy the sea monster likes to show off his colorful collection of sneakers that he has acquired during his underwater forays into the Bermuda Triangle
Randy the green sea monster frequents the briny depths of the Bermuda Triangle searching for lost ships and aircraft so he can devour their hapless crews and add their sneakers to his vast collection which he periodically puts on display at public beaches.
(Kim Harris’ submission to Redbubble’s “Monster Challenge”)
Cruelly abandoned by her hipster master who felt that taking care of her was too much of a burden, Hazel was forced to shed her dignity and was reduced to selling eggs and playing music on the street for strangers in hope of securing her next meal.
It all began several years ago with the troubling news that chickens and roosters were arriving in unprecedented numbers at animal shelters and sanctuaries throughout the United States and Canada. Recently, things reached a point where facility overcrowding is resulting in many of them being turned away due to lack of space. The authorities were puzzled at first as the phenomenon was widespread and largely precluded the possibility of a mass breakout at a local Perdue or Tyson facility. One local reporter even made a phone call to a well-placed retired colonel who is knowledgeable about the poultry industry. Unfortunately, this didn’t shed any further light on the mystery, as the polite southern gentleman pronounced that ”business was as finger-lickin’good as ever” with no reported shortages of raw materials.
A few clues eventually began to surface in the mainstream media. A recent Time Magazine article discussed the roots of the chicken abandonment problem and quoted the owner of The Chicken Run Rescue facility in Minneapolis as stating: “It’s the stupid foodies” and “We’re just sick to death of it.” Another animal rescue group in Seattle, Ducks and Clucks, told The Daily Caller that “hipster urban yuppie types who entertained romanticized notions of raising farm animals” were to blame for the crisis.
This led animal rights activists to proceed to conduct surveillance at several of the more prominent shelters to see if they could identify the method of transportation used to deliver the chickens. Soon, a pattern was revealed in the shadowy arrival of abandoned chickens. As had been suspected earlier by the reporters, they were being dropped off by people who appeared to fit the pattern of hipsterism, either by their garb, hair, demeanor or mode of conveyance. The chickens were seen to arrive transported in Kånken backpacks, in handlebar baskets on single-speed bicycles, in the trunks of flashy hybrids and in one instance, a dilapidated VW bus was observed to disgorge several dozen chickens before speeding down a dimly lit alley into the night.
It was now becoming clear that the unfortunate fowl were casualties of a dysfunctional locavore movement. The thought of stimulating production of healthy organic food in local communities was attractive to hipsters and it was a well-intentioned effort that initially enjoyed success as bumper crops of homegrown tomatoes, lettuce, zucchini, beans and other tasty summer staples flourished. Chicken coops soon followed as the hipsters moved on to focus on fresh egg production.
At first, everything went well for the chickens. During the course of their tenure in their comfortable urban settings, the chickens began to emulate their masters by dressing in ragged retro clothes, donning Kangol berets, wearing lenseless tortoiseshell glasses and surreptitiously learning how to play the hipsters’ musical instruments. They even went as far as sneaking sips from their owners’ unattended cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, all the while secretly cackling out old Pabst marketing slogans, such as “Pabst makes it perfect.” Oblivious to their eventual fate, the flocks reveled in tipple and song with only passing concern regarding what the future might hold for them.
Everything went splendidly for a while as hipsters, enthralled with pets that also produced breakfast, proceeded to purchase wholesale quantities of cute fuzzy little chicks. The fact that some might grow up to be roosters never crossed the hipsters’ minds. But as nature would have it, half of the hatchlings turned out to be roosters that were not only incapable of laying eggs, but also soon became an annoyance to entire neighborhoods with their early morning crowing. The hipster foodies were placed under increasing pressure by the communities to do something about the pre-dawn cacophony. This led some people to suggest that this was a major contributing factor to a spike in the downloading of Julia Child’s iconic recipe for Coq au Vin off the Internet.
Hazel was ultimately dumped on a street corner in a bad part of town and left to fend for herself. Later, she and a handful of surviving friends would recount harrowing tales about the fate of roosters who failed to live up to the foodies’ expectations regarding egg production. Husbands disappeared mysteriously in the middle of the night, and hipsters were said to have persuaded some of the recent arrivals to join a mysterious religious cult they referred to as the “The Order of Young Friars,” after which time they were never seen again.
Hazel was fortunate in that she was able to grab her master’s ukulele as she was about to be spirited away in a rusty Volvo station wagon with a bad muffler. Now, she performs on street corners hoping to entice passersby to toss a little chicken feed her way.
Illustration by Kim Harris
Story by Don Rudisuhle
Scientists have been experimenting with combining genes from a fish and a tomato to create a genetically-modified plant that can thrive even in frigid weather in snowbound northern states.
We just knew all this frankenfood experimentation was not going to be without its consequences. Scientists speculated that a winter harvest of tomatoes would be possible outdoors in Wyoming, Montana, Minnesota and North Dakota, and while results have been less than encouraging they still hold out hope for eventual success.
Several focus groups consisting of families, restaurant owners and food critics were established to investigate the public’s reactions to the aroma, flavor, texture and shelf life of the innovative tomato hybrids. After a three-month period, the researchers compiled their findings:
Illustration by Kim Harris
Story by Don Rudisuhle
For another of our frankenfood stories, please go to:
Ginny accepts a lollipop from a Frankenfish
The animals were fortunate to be well-prepared for the unanticipated cold snap
Earth Day activities are presently in full swing and people all around the globe are posting their images and stories about climate change and the impact of global warming. However, here in southeast Wyoming, this morning we awoke to freezing temperatures and a brutal snowstorm. Even the animals had to don sweaters to warm up. Fortunately, a prolific knitter had prepared for this eventuality even before the winter began.
The handsome, suave Count d’Escargot has slyly seduced yet another glamorous gastropod
It was recently revealed that the National Science Foundation awarded a grant to the University of Iowa for the purpose of conducting research into why New Zealand mud snails go to the trouble of having sex when they are perfectly capable of reproduction by themselves without the need to engage the opposite sex.
The study cost just short of a million dollars, but it produced a startling revelation: The snails do it because it’s a whole lot of fun!
Everybody needs a little romance…
But will the Count call her back in the morning?
Illustration by Kim Harris
Story by Don Rudisuhle
True to President Reagan’s vision of a shining city on the hill, this new Fabergé egg commissioned by Congress celebrates the symbiotic relationship between government and the citizenry, thanks to whose selfless sacrifices this glorious institution has flourished over so many years.
The Shining City on the Hill has never looked so bright
Resplendent in magnificence, brilliance and might
A tall proud city built on rocks stronger than the ocean
Symbolic of our leaders’ noble devotion
I’ve never seen so many tourists gawk in utter awe
At this hallowed monument to our nation’s law
I never saw that wooden suit that you’re wearing
I have been blind
Citizen in the Red
After the fanfare and celebratory atmosphere wound down in the wake of the country’s landmark second inauguration, Congress saw fit to commission a piece of commemorative art that would celebrate their accomplishments and their vision for the future of America.
Although no one conceded much admiration for the Romanovs, several prominent congressional leaders were mesmerized by the elegance and detail of the famed jeweled Fabergé Eggs that were produced for Czar Alexander III and later Czar Nicholas II, as symbols of the power and wealth of imperial Russia. They decided to commission an egg for the government of the United States.
Congressional staffers were instructed to contact the US Embassy in Switzerland to find Deepak Fabergé, one the few remaining descendants of Russian Imperial Jeweler Carl Fabergé who had been rumored to still be producing jeweled eggs in his attic workshop in Lausanne. As soon as he was located, an Air Force C-32 transport plane was dispatched to Geneva in short order to pick up Fabergé and spirit him off to Washington, DC.
After a few formalities and several bottles of scotch, a select Congressional subcommittee instructed Fabergé to produce an egg for display in the Capitol rotunda that would glorify the seat of power that has made so much progress possible and also convey the nation’s appreciation for all the support and sacrifice on the part of the citizenry. They told Fabergé that money was not a concern and to produce as elegant a piece as he could conceive.
It was a tradition in the Fabergé family of jewelers that each egg would contain a surprise inside, and not even the recipient, however prominent an individual, was to know the contents of the egg in advance of its delivery.
After Fabergé returned to his atelier in Lausanne to begin work, the committee members waited in anxious anticipation of the delivery of the egg. What surprise might this new egg contain? Jobs? Health Care? A balanced budget?
A tiny alien luxuriates in my bowl of chicken vegetable soup. He even brought his own towel.
For years, reports of sightings of tiny aliens have been trickling in from all around the globe. Mysterious little creatures, some only a few inches tall, have been turning up in Russia, Mexico, Peru, Chile and other countries. Their appearance varies considerably, from rubbery doll-like figures with a vague resemblance to Sesame Street characters all the way to shriveled, desiccated husks that look like some sort of stale cosmic kippers.
I had left the kitchen window open one balmy afternoon when suddenly a small spaceship hovered into the room and gently settled on a shelf next to the dining room table. A hatch opened and a tiny being scaled down the ladder and addressed me quite straightforwardly. “You wouldn’t happen to have any soup, would you?”
Well it just so happened that I had just prepared a bowl of chicken vegetable soup and was getting ready to sit down to enjoy it. Before I could even get to my chair, the little alien shimmied up the table leg and quickly removed his spacesuit and boots, draped his towel over one of the handles on the bowl and jumped into the steaming liquid.
A mutant giant goldfish is seen enjoying his favorite winter sport, snowboarding at a ski resort at Lake Tahoe in California.
Just recently it was reported that biologists from the University of Nevada at Reno have been routinely observing unusually large goldfish in the pristine waters of Lake Tahoe in Northern California. This phenomenon has caught the attention of the California State Fish and Game Department who have instituted routine patrols to seek out what they consider to be a dangerous invasive species.
The scientists speculate that the giant goldfish were introduced in the Lake Tahoe by so-called “aquarium dumpers,” well-meaning people who when they were no longer able to care for their pet fish, decided to abandon them in Lake Tahoe where they believed they would live out their lives in a safe and pleasant environment in the company of many other species of fish and crustaceans.
Some experts questioned whether a goldfish could survive the frigid winters that characterize this deep, high-mountain lake. However, reality proved to be stranger than fiction when the goldfish not only survived, but thrived in the harsh Alpine climate. Thanks to the nutrient-rich effluent making its way into Lake Tahoe, the goldfish not only thrived but were also genetically transformed as a consequence of the metabolites of psychotropic pharmaceuticals that were present in the sewage emanating from affluent neighborhoods along the lakeshore. They adapted splendidly and in no time at all they quickly blended into the local culture and adopted the habits and customs of the local residents. Now the goldfish are regularly seen enjoying the recreational facilities throughout the area, although they curiously prefer to avoid being seen at restaurants and tackle shops.
A giant goldfish caught by Raphaël Biagini, the renowned French “Carpiste” or “Catcher of Carp”
This is not by any means the first time giant goldfish have been seen in freshwater lakes. This trophy giant goldfish was caught by Raphaël Biagini, a legendary French “Carpiste,” who reeled in the monster “poisson rouge” from the waters of Lac de St. Cassien, a man-made reservoir in southern France. This is the same lake where a 75-pound world record carp was caught some 25 years ago. It is not clear how a tiny fish that normally graces home aquariums grew to such gargantuan size. Some locals familiar with the story attribute the fish’s extraordinary size with an incident that occurred a few years back when a barge laden with Camembert cheese capsized during a squall and sank with its cargo into the depths of Lake St. Cassien. The nutrient-rich cheese provided a source of food for several stray goldfish that, like Nemo, had been flushed down the toilet and somehow survived their transit through the sewage treatment plant. The discarded goldfish soon happened upon the sunken cache of cheese and began to feed on it. It appears that the Camembert rind that they devoured is coated with Penicillium candidum mold, which had the effect of strengthening their natural immunity and allowed them to grow to a colossal size that rendered them invulnerable to natural predators (except M. Biagini).
Illustration by Kim Harris
Story by Don Rudisuhle
Senator Robert Menéndez and Doctor Delray prepare to board a private jet to fly to the Dominican Republic so the senator can undergo Bunga-Bunga therapy to treat his acute case of Pon Farr.
Senator Robert Menendez has been keeping a secret. Although it has been widely suspected among congressional circles for some years, it is only now coming to the awareness of the public as a result of the attention being focused on Senator Menendez by the media over his mysterious trips to the Dominican Republic. The press has been exploring allegations that the Senator has been traveling frequently to that resort island for purposes of enjoying the companionship of young women.
These claims came as a total surprise to many people given that the senator had recently attended “Women for Menendez,” a campaign event hosted by a political committee designed to raise money for his reelection last November. The event touted the senator’s record of success as a champion of women’s issues and his commitment to make sure young people are empowered to reach their full potential.
In view of his stellar record as a champion for women’s rights, these allegations of philandering could not possibly be true. Or could they? Is it possible that Senator Menendez could have been influenced by factors beyond his control? The answer lies in his closely guarded family secret.
It appears that sometime in the very distant past during a time when a Vulcan starship was visiting Earth on a scientific mission, its crew was allowed to disembark on shore leave to explore this unusual planet about which little was known at the time. During that short excursion, the ship’s legal counselor experienced an acute episode of Pon Farr, which as all Star Trek fans know, is an affliction unique to Vulcans whereby they undergo an irresistible urge to mate. Vulcans will die if they fail to identify and mate with a compatible partner within a short window of time.
It just so happened that the Vulcan legal counselor strayed into a nearby village and immediately established empathy with an attractive young Earth maiden whom he had quickly befriended (and seduced with the help of a tankard of Romulan ale.) He hastily satisfied his Pon Farr urges and headed back to the rendezvous point to be beamed back aboard his ship. Just as he was dissolving into an effervescent fog, he waved his universal translator and yelled out “I’ll call you!” to the girl.
The child that resulted from that union grew up to be a revered member of the community due to his unique pointed ears. He was considered to be a sage among his people and was responsible for many innovations that improved everyone’s quality of life. Untold generations later, Robert Menéndez was born of that lineage that carried the Vulcan DNA.
So that was the Senator’s secret. He was part Vulcan. His slightly elongated ears did not particularly betray him, but even back in grade school he irritated his classmates with his logical interpretations of everyday events and he was a hit with the girls when he demonstrated his ability to make a greeting gesture by forming a V with his fingers spread apart between his middle finger and his ring finger while quipping “live long and ace the social studies quiz.“ He was also popular with the nerdy intellectual kids because he could drive the meanest playground bullies into submission by simply applying the Vulcan Nerve Pinch to their necks.
So fast forward to 2013, where Bob Menendez is now a US Senator and Chairman of the powerful Senate Foreign Relations Committee. Since late last year, he has suffered repeated assaults in the media regarding extra-official trips to the Dominican Republic on private jets for the purpose of engaging in sexual trysts with young women. Then, as the newspapers and political bloggers began to suggest that the Chairman Menendez was giving a new interpretation to the term “foreign relations,” his staffers rushed to exercise damage control. “It wasn’t his fault,” they asserted in chorus as an increasing number of women began to come forward with lurid accounts of boozy evenings spent in the company of the senator at elegant private villas in Santo Domingo.
Indeed, it was not his fault. He could not help himself and cannot really be held accountable for his actions. The senator had inherited a recessive gene from his Vulcan ancestor that left him vulnerable to progressively more severe episodes of Pon Farr whereby he had to immediately seek out intimate female companionship in order to avoid succumbing to the condition’s potentially fatal consequences. As it turned out , his closest aides had been aware of the senator’s affliction for some time and had become concerned about the possibility of an embarrassing incident on the Senate floor should Senator Menendez lose all control and attempt to satisfy his uncontrollable urges with, heaven forbid, a female colleague like California Senator Diane Feinstein.
Menendez’s staffers had quietly enlisted the aid of a respected Florida physician who has extensive experience treating this physical and psychological disorder and who has worked with other high profile politicians in developing a remedy for those afflicted. Several years ago, the physician, who prefers to go by the moniker “Dr. Delray.” worked with Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi to develop a highly effective course of therapy which was rolled into a ritual that they called “Bunga-Bunga,” that emulates an ancient Vulcan tradition.
Since Pon Farr is a very private matter for Vulcans, Dr. Delray arranged to quietly spirit the senator off to the Dominican Republic where he could discreetly undergo Pon Farr at secretive Bunga-Bunga ceremonies at the doctor’s villa. It was necessary to transport Senator Menendez in the Doctor’s private jet because his staffers felt that it could be a public embarrassment if he suddenly could not control his Pon Farr urges aboard a commercial airliner. (even if the flight attendants were not as youthful and attractive as they were back when he was a young man.)
Because Pon Farr’s effects are difficult to predict and could erupt at any moment without warning, Doctor Delray engaged a renown Romulan therapist with a Eastern European ties to watch over the Senator during his flight and take care of him should he experience a sudden surge of Pon Farr energy while airborne.
The news media is correct in stating that the senator cannot really be held accountable for actions because he is undergoing Pon Farr, a medical and psychological phenomenon that is unique to Vulcans. Furthermore, the senator himself is cautioning any potential political critics that he will consider any negative comments about his activities to be evidence of discrimination against him based on his Vulcan heritage.
The Krampus and President Obama are on the beach at Hanauma Bay discussing a contract to punish the members of Congress who have been so naughty in the previous year.
December 5 was Krampus Day in a number of European countries with Teutonic roots. As many of you know, the fierce horned Krampus figures prominently in the folklore of Germany and Austria, and also in the traditions of Hungary and the countries of former Yugoslavia. The role of the Krampus is complementary to that of the benevolent bearded old man who distributes presents to nice children far and wide on Christmas. The Krampus rounds up the naughty children that Santa has passed by and proceeds to whip them with a switch of birch branches. Those who have been exceptionally bad are stuffed into a sack and taken to a remote location in the woods to be devoured by the Krampus.
This year saw an unusually large contingent of naughty children who disobeyed their parents, failed to do their household chores, talked back to their elders, refused to eat their vegetables and got into fights at school. Disciplining the lot of them kept the Krampus very busy and by the time all of the punishment had been meted out, the Krampus was exhausted.
President Obama was likewise very tired from fighting with the Republicans over raising taxes for the rich, saving entitlement programs and avoiding the looming fiscal cliff. The president had just wrapped up a brief chat with the Chancellor of Germany, Andrea Merkel, regarding the debt crisis in Southern Europe when the Chancellor suggested that Mr. Obama invite Krampus to visit him in Hawaii so that they could both unwind on the beach together. Krampus immediately sparked to the idea of escaping the cold German winter and promptly booked a Lufthansa flight from Frankfurt to Honolulu.
Soon after arrival the pair proceeded to Hanauma Bay where they were served heady tropical beverages while being entertained by an exotic dance troupe recruited by the Secret Service. When the show was over, President Obama approached Krampus concerning a possible future contract with the US Department of Justice to castigate all those individuals appearing on the list of naughty legislators that the president has been compiling. Mr. Obama emphasized to Krampus that certain members of Congress had been very, very naughty.
Illustration by Kim Harris
Story by Don Rudisuhle
FullFrogMoon
FullFrogMoon: The Blog of the Frog 