Renowned gastrointestinal sculptress, Ileum McManus, has once again rocked the craft world and we at the MOKS are proud to be able to show you the latest work to emerge from her ground-breaking movement.

Poopy Dog is a study in the delicate balance of color, texture, and digestive prowess. Her liberal use of fiber, both acrylic and dietary, have secured her place in the annals of the art history and kept her regular for years.

What’s next for McManus? She wouldn’t say, but we did notice some prunes and alpaca in her tote bag. We’re hoping she took our hint about needing a draft stopper for the front door of the Mueum’s lobby.

After many long years of waiting, survivors from the wreckage of the Good Ship Lollipop have been found and rescued!

What started as a sweet trip to a candy shop ended in tragedy as the G.S. Lollipop went down in flames on a sunny beach somewhere in the Peppermint Bay area of the West Indies. There would be no happy landing on a chocolate bar for them, no bon-bons would play on that fateful day. Rescue teams failed to find the caramelized fuselage and gave up the search after two weeks.

When survivors were interviewed, they told fantastic tales of lemonade stands everywhere, crackerjack bands filling the air, and sugar bowls doing the tootsie roll. Blood tests revealed that the water they’d been drinking was tainted with hallucinogenic fungus residue. Claims that some crew members had been overtaken by a big bad devil’s food cake remain under investigation and a team of physicians are looking into complaints of people waking with tummy aches. No one wants to invoke the “C” word, but rumors of rampant cannibalism on the island are swirling.

Due to their steady diet of sugary treats, the survivors were amazingly hyper when they were found. They greeted rescuers with a choreographed dance routine that employed not only jazz hands, but jazz feet. The buzzing castaways made due with what they had and with ingenuity that could only be inspired by eating entire fistfuls if Pixie Stix dust, they spun and knitted yarn using crates of cotton candy from the cargo hold. Their encampment resembled a  nudist colony during the rainy season, but their resolve to remain clothed never wavered and they continued to fashion more candy clothing as the weather allowed.

I have crust pictuuuures!

You guys are nuts. I accept that I may be a little bent for posting those photos of my severed thumb tip, but you. You loved it! And now you’ve really gone and done it. You encouraged my behavior. So now, I will follow through with the narrative that I have begun.

Once again, the photos are in order of grossness. And these are way grosser than the disembodied lump of flesh from the last batch, so think before you click. Are you really up for the glistening, bloody mess? Can you handle the crust? If not, you can scroll directly to the end of this post for the palette-cleansing cuteness that is Dot and her toes.

Before I continue, I’ll admit that I was a little disappointed in the crust. I guess I imagined that I would be able to thunk on it like a melon. Or a delicious salt crust like I saw on the cooking channel once. I’ll spare you the details, but I lost most of it when I had my dressing changed for the first time. I’ll just leave it at “Holy crap, owww ow owwwww!” But it did its job. Now, prepare yourself and . . .

Behold my crust!!

This first batch of photos is from about 4 or 5 days after the incident.

For starters, here is a blurry photo. It’s a close-up, so it’s like watching a horror movie through your fingers. You get the idea without the crystalline splash of blood and guts. Thumb guts. Still, it’s pretty nasty. The rest of the pictures a crisp and clear.

Here’s one that shows a view from my thumbnail so you can see where the chopping happened.

Here it is from the side. I had just gotten out of the shower when I took these, so the crust was wet and had returned to its somewhat gel-like fabric form. It hardened up when it was dry, though. You can also see that by this time, it wasn’t doing much in the way of covering things up.

Here it is in all its glory. Nothing pithy to say about this, really.

A few days later, things got a little . . . odd. You may or may not be familiar with a website called The Sneeze. If you aren’t, you should be. Anyway, Steve at The Sneeze has been documenting a natural oddity in his front yard for a few years now and I do believe I may be experiencing it on my person. You see, Steve has got himself a Tree Brain. A weird growth springs from a tree in his yard every year. You can read all about it here.

And now? Well, I think I’m getting a Thumb Brain!! What else can it possibly be?? These photos are from a couple of days ago.

Thumb Brain

The Thumb Brain Strikes Back

Return of the Thumb Brain

Man, I hope Steve’s neighbor/interloper doesn’t come over while I’m sleeping . . .

If I start extolling the virtues of all things thumby and trying to convince you that the pinky finger is a useless freeloader and the ring finger is only good for one thing, well, you’ll know the Thumb Brain has finally taken over it’s unwilling host. Someone please come over to check on my husband from time to time.

And now, as promised, a little wire brush for the soul. If this doesn’t scrape those ghastly images from your mind, well, I’m afraid you’re stuck with them for the rest of your life. My bad.

*the mouse is one of Mel’s handmade, felted creations. It’s a household favorite and so far, indestructible! Yay Mel!