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Archive for February, 2010

February the Twentyfourth

Today Monkey went out to get a piping hot pizza.  Sadly for Monkey at 4am the options for pie are limited to your dirty hole of a shop.  Which, in itself, would not have been a problem only for some, no doubt grand reason, you have stopped delivering after 2am.  This makes you a jackwad and due for a full share of recompense as Monkey did not, in fact, want to venture into the frigid dark.  So, in a foul mood, and trudging though the snow what does Monkey find upon entering your, ever so well plowed and salted, parking lot?  That’s right, the Hound Dog mobile, your pride and joy.  The options for life lessons are almost limitless.  But don’t fret over the lost sales due to a lack of operable vehicle.  Instead think how much better the Earth will feel with you not driving that gas hog for a few days… or weeks.  Or, now that I think about it, ever.

Monkey is saving the planet, one jackwad’s limo at a time.

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February the Nineteenth

Today Monkey put you in your place.  Normally Monkey takes his time playing pool, enjoying the camaraderie of friends and a few pints of bitter.  Things however, when a little differently with you.  This is of course, all your fault, for you see, Monkey heard you say to your little lackey, “I’m going to own these choads tonight”.  Are you now?  Well Monkey hopes you are keen enough to understand that he missed on the 8, after running the table from the break, just to screw with you.  Let you hold out just a glimmer of hope before ending your evening at a less than impressive 0-1.  Go for the win or play defensive, just be sure to leaving as the 8 enters the pocket.  This is Monkey’s table, he may as well have pissed on it.

After all, he did piss on you.

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February the Tenth

Today Monkey ran out to get a couple of bottles of PlumpJack’s ’06 Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon.  While on his little trip Monkey had the sorry misfortune to pass by none other than you.  Monkey does appreciate the time and effort you have spent on your lumpy, drab dress that would no doubt have hidden you like a ghillie suit had you not been standing in front of a red box.  Your attempt to go unnoticed, while a complete failure, is welcome.  However, having noticed, Monkey would like to make you aware of several things.  First, that machine does not, in fact, dispense husbands so you might as well just head into the grocery store to try to fill the emptiness in your soul.  Also, you should consider trying Netflix.  You can pass away the dry hours of your life on Hollywood drivel without even having to leave the comfort of your windowless basement flat.  This will help ensure Monkey never lay eyes on you again. In fact…

Monkey is signing you up.

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February the Sixth

Today Monkey went to the bank.  What’s that?  Oh don’t worry, you’ll never need to know what a bank is.  And along that note Monkey would like you to know that he sees you out there.  Out there struggling to get on your feet, shivering in the bitter cold, awaiting the brief paradise that is the tepid stale warmth of the city bus.  Sure, comfortable self-righteous, well-educated nouveaux citadins have a tendency to cast a noble light on bus, but you know better.  The city bus is your constant companion as you move about a grey existence that is punctuated only, by the thought, “Is today the day a bum vomits on me…  again”.  Monkey sees you, and takes a moment from adjusting the heated seat to give you a nod and a smile.  A smile that seems to say, “Buck up friend, while the cold stings the bus will surely be along soon”.

Unless you need the #6.  Monkey ran that one, off the road a few blocks back.

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