They're like socks. You think you've lost them, but then they turn up stashed away under your bed. Your idea will be back in it's own good time.

Like jetsam on the beach when high tide returns, they're grasped by time and slipped back into the oceanic pool of ideas to be washed and waved and slushed around some more. It may be that the good idea washes up on your beach again, and you'll find it later. But it may also happen that it's carried alongshore for a distance, until it's found by someone else, or it may spend a long time at sea, just floating and awating its time.

The monster's name is "Uspto".

Fuck! I wanted to come up with a great monstah name, but Smart Dalek (as always) beats me to it.

Fuck! I wanted to come up with a really beautiful image about the passing of time and ideas, but Miko (as always) beats me to it.

Fuck! I don't have any socks and I'm too scaired to look under my bed for them or any ideas. What's under there keeps watch at all hours and smells like damp earth.

At least you have an under the bed. I'm sleeping on the floor.

*looks under the bed* Nope. Nothing but dust there.

I think the god of lost ideas is (or should be) called Err.

Where do all the good ideas go?

They go to Hollywood and to Washington, DC. There they are vivisected, analyzed, processed and re-shaped into bad ideas. These are then sold back to you in the form of Michael Bay movies and flag-burning amendments.