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The fridge Monster Oh I know what you’re thinking, you don’t have a monster living in your fridge. But I can tell you that you have, it just that you perhaps are not magic like I am so you cannot see him. Perhaps you have noticed that you milk goes down a bit, or maybe there is less cheese that you thought you have? Hum yes? I have made friends with my monster, I even know his name. The name of my fridge monster is Henry. Henry likes party food best, pink fluffy icing on birthday cakes is to him the food of Gods. Henry some time ago snuck out of my fridge and made a party hat for himself out of old streamers. As you can see from the image I drew of him he stands twisted with one big furry paw and one which is now just a hook. He has only lived in my fridge for five years, but he tells me his very old. He lived in other fridges before, but I have been then only person to have ever been able to see him. He would not tell me how he lost his paw. But I’m guessing it’s in some fridge related accident. I told Henry that he does not need to live in the fridge, he was welcome to join my family and watch the TV with us. I tempted him out with cake and the promise to watch the super bowl with all the superstars like Aaron Rodgers of the Green Bay Packers. Henry tried it for a day, and then he began to complain he was to hot and feign his death from overheating. So I scooped him up and lay him back in the fridge on the shelf between a mullet, perch. And he soon recovered again.

morel story

Along the coastlines of a faraway land lives a monster mosquito who lived in an old stone tomb called a cairn. The monster would sleep all day in the shade of the cairn, but in the blackness of the night, he rose from his slumber to strike fear into the villagers who lived along the coastline. All the villages would hide inside their houses at night and board up the windows. Apart from one very old sailor who had the audacious to walk around when the monster mosquito was in biting mode. The mosquito saw the old sailor and jumped on him, biting him hard in the neck and sucking his blood. However the old sailor did not die, he just got up and staggered about, however the monster keeled over and dropped dead, as the alcohol in the old sailor’s blood was too much for him. So the morel of this story is, always stay safe at home when large mosquitos are about or if you have to go out send an old sailor out as bate first. The end.

day 15 snail monster

Was she stalking me? Was she stalking me? The snail was clearly a she, wasn’t she? I looked around at the soft silky tail that the snail had left behind it. I stopped and glared at it. The snail stopped also. An awkward minute passed ere we glared at each other, before I walked off, quicker this time. I did not look back, a mean how fast can a snail walk anyhow? Plus do snails even walk? No they slither along on a line of slime. Yuk, who would want to be a snail not me! Oh now I have guilt, so I stop and stand still and turn on the spot. And there, there is the snail. What time of monster is this? I say that out loud as the snail has now grown in size to be as big as a cat! Golly and gosh. Glaring back at the snail, I quicken my pace. Passed the post box, the red telephone box and the old church yard, faster and faster I run. Then I pause for a bit to look back over my shoulder. And there, THERE! Behind me is the snail, but now it’s the size of a car. A car I say! Yes really. Its long pink and purple eye lashes flustering in the summer breeze. No, I shout, go away stop following me. And turn and run as fast as I can. Although it’s hard going as I had reached the bottom of the hill and as not as young as I used to be, no, and maybe a bit over weight to if I am honest. Anyway, I make it up the hill and then stop to catch my breath, but there it is again, but this time as big as a house. Yes that’s right, a house I say. It was a snail with a pink shell as big as a house. I can hardly believe it myself. So I ran down the hill and over to the lake, and stood staring into the water dreading the site of the refection that could creep up behind me at any point. And I was not alarmed when it did, there in the water next to my refection was the snail who was as large as a sky scrapper now. As I stood still I looked at are reflections, we were the same in every way. Except she was a girl snail and I a boy snail. Guess that’s it for me then now, as I have heard that when a snail monster choices a mate, there is no escape. So I guess she was stalking me?

monster day 14

This monster, was once normal. However after waiting in endless bus queue. turned eveil and mad.

day 13 or 14, maybe 13

Monster day the lady This is a monster that’s is a lady who has one large eye to the side of her face. She has a large body, and one back foot, she shuffles along. She likes to grant wishes, although she gets real stressed and often turns people into frogs. She likes loads of feathers in her hair and smells out adventures with her big nose. She has a name , but im not brave enough to ask it, so call her lady.

monster day 13

i am feeling stressed today, so story to go with this monster

Monster day 12 cont.;

The mating dance of the kindred spirt monster This is a site to see and as most of you will never get the chance to see it, I shall describe in all its glory’s splendour here. This is the mating dance of the kindred spirt monster. As you can see this monster is brightly coloured in this drawing I have made for you. Unlike most monsters and animals for that matter. When the kindred spirt monsters are ready to mate both the male and the female are brightly coloured. This is the female depicted here. If you were lucky enough to see the courtship dance you would she that she Flails her beautiful fragile wings. She thrashes them about, while the male whirls and flaps about her. However this is not the happy event it appears to be for on lookers, both monsters are sombre serious and cheerless as they dance about each other. This is because of the ceremonies its self, the act of love making of exchanging rites and sacraments. Also in the turmoil that commences in the love making part of ritual, fur and feathers can fly at quite an alarming rate. So you see love does not come easy.