Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Outing Grumpus

(Part one of a 51-part series)

Little is known about the mysterious blogger who calls itself Grumpus.

I have long been suspicious that it is not of our planet, even. Investigation and careful examination of the evidence leads one to the conclusion that Grumpus is from the planet Saturn, and I have stated this on several occasions.

Like the Coneheads of Saturday NIght Live fame, who always quickly stated that they were from France, whenever pressed, Grumpus always substitutes "British Columbia" for France. More often than not, people will accept that statement as truth. Grumpus depends on this acceptance for it's very survival.

Posing as a harmless snail, the entity known as Grumpus is, in real life, quite large indeed. I have seen it's shadow myself, and I can state with certainty that Grumpus is no snail.

Investigation and careful examination of small facts that the often careless creature leaves behind, gives even more insight into the extraterrestrial's habits. First, it is known to feed on a bland, green diet of unknown origin, looking much like the disgusting British dish called "Mushy Peas." Of course it is not Mushy Peas at all, but a life-sustaining protein found only in the caves under the surface of Saturn.

When not in its natural nocturnal habitat, Grumpus takes the form of a human female. I have carefully followed Grumpus for several weeks now, and have noticed its ability to change form at will, but always the form will be a human female of perhaps 25 to 35 years of age. I have even been successful in photographing the results of the transmorgrification of the Saturn creature (known more correctly as a "Santurian") several times, and I will be showing some of these actual photographs throughout this series. You should be aware that the Grumpus has the ability to take more than one female form at will, and does not have the need to look the same at any given time. Below is Grumpus #24. Note, as always, that the Saturian Command Module (SCM) is never far away. I have come to believe that this is somehow essential to Grumpus' very survival, as well as being needed, of course, to direct the bodily movements and thought processes of the human forms it inhabits.
To be continued...


  1. The green shit looks vile, and are you sure you do not mean to say "Succubus?"

  2. So that is why you're always blathering about snails. That shell, damn it, is a nautilus. From the sea. Jaysus!

    For the record, I have eyebrows, unlike Miss #24 here.

    Ready the command module and on to the next topic!

  3. For a long time, I believed you as you wove your spell. Nautilus. Not snail. Like a fool, I just took your word for it like everyone else. Then one day I saw a real Nautilus. Oh, my. No. Not even close. Here is a picture of one. You ain't it. You're a snail, luv. Oh, you've bleached your shell and turned your back to the camera, true enough. But let me tell you like it is: long on about episode 32, you will crack wide open and bring me oodles and oodles of pictures. Some fake, some real, some merely of the lengthy sunset on your planet.

    But by then it will be too late. And the National Enquirer is just waiting in the wings for me to produce your likeness.

    Rich! Rich, I tell you! Bwahahahahahahah!!!!!

  4. No, Petra. Not a ghostly visitation. Grumpus is the real thing. An actual interplanetary strandee that I intend to make hay with while the sun shines.

    I'll have her unearthly goddess-like face (oh, she is a female, mark my words) plastered all over the Enquirer faster than a fish-menu change at Red Lobster.

    Yes, indeed! Max's ship has come in!

    Goodbye Chica (for now), hello Grumpus. Onward and upward.


  5. Turn that shit around!:

    I think I'm right, therefore I am.

    Isn't Georgia O'Keefe from your neck of the woods? There ain't no ocean there!! No wonder she's confusing me.

  6. Once again, Grumpus' pathetic attempt at misdirection has been foiled by the master. I deciphered her dead-end link and now offer it for the world to see and judge: HERE IS GRUMPUS' LINK THAT SHE CLAIMS SHOWS PROOF OF NAUTILUSISITY. Ha! Not even close!

    No one will ever believe you again!

  7. Yes, Georgia O'Keefe lived and did art in New Mexico for many years. A total loon. Had no clue what things REALLY looked like. Painted imaginary flowers and bleached cattle skulls. Once claimed if she painted one mountain enough times, God had promised to give it to her. Blasted through the desert on a 1947 Indian motorcycle. This is your reference? Sheesh! This is the lady who painted your snail shell and called it a nautilus? Just because New Yorkers were dumb enough to pay millions for her paintings! How about R.C. Gorman? He painted in Santa Fe, too. Dead now, but you can still hear him laughing at the rich tourists from under 6 feet of dirt. What's your point?

    Oh! For shame, Grumpus! Holy Mackeral, Grumpus - the loon drew for three whole years with nothing but a blue crayon. Said when she had mastered that she would move on. Even Kelly the Irish goddess Aerten would agree with me, that Georgia and Gorman were frauds - and she knows her shit!

    I rest my case.

    Too easy, Drill Sergeant! Hoooah.


  8. Mushy peas, with a little worcestershire sauce, mmmmmm. Lovely. And of course, with a good pork-pie or two....
    Not at all a sign of an alien, but of an über-being.

    Mind you, Max, you're from a nation that thinks 'grits' is food.

    And worcestershire sauce is our secret alien detector. Americans trip over their tongues trying to speak its sublime name.

  9. Snails, is it? Nautilus? I though Grumpus was clearly a clever new name for Robbie the Robot-I do like that image with the shoe fetish theme.

  10. @Soubriqut - Uberbeing indeed. That she is. And the man from the land of gruel is putting down grits, is he? Well, at least allow me to explain the origin of the word Worcestershire to you. The name actually originated in Brooklyn in 1897, when a deli owner who had been cleaning his stove put the brown drippings in a jar for a moment, just long enough for a passing streetsweeper to pick it up, smell it, and ask, "What's this here sauce?" And the name just sort of stuck, along with the stove drippings-like taste. Or so I've heard. Welcome back, and hello. I've missed you. I must try harder to make up some posts that amuse you.

    By the way, may I tell you that I am STILL working on your last post on the other blog, about Ireland. I haven't commented yet because I am on now just beginning the third stanza. I will say one thing for you: leave a very daunting trail behind you, sir. But I refuse to gloss over your intriguing stuff, and make some inane comment back at you. Instead, I am determined to understand - and that make take some doing with your Sean O'Farrell. But I shall. Don't give up on me yet, my friend. :)

  11. Descartes, welcome! Thank you for stopping by. I have visited your (many) blogs, at least looked them over. Ha! Two definitely caught my eye. Good work! (No, it wasn't the one about Texas, although that was good to.)

    Grumpus? Ah, yes. Grumpus. No, I don't think it is a new name for Robbie. She's pretty much like the name implies. More so, lately, if I may say so. I personally think the world of her. But, then, I enjoy sticking sharp sticks in my eye also. So.


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