Archive for March, 2010

March the Twentyseventh

Today Monkey went to the opening match.  This year the opening was played against the strong Toronto FC side.  Of course by strong Monkey means pathetic, a disgrace, black stain on the already foul milquetoast image that Ontario infects on the rest of the world.  One wonders why anyone would use a Toronto FC kit for anything other than it’s intended purpose, wiping the oily sludge out from under the fingernails of ex-con quickie lube workers.  Yet lo, and be hold Monkey sees you people over in the corner and sure enough, you are wearing the damn things.  Have you escaped a mental institution?  Lose a bet that would have seen you gain peerage had you won?  It can’t be that actually are a Toronto FC supporter.  Does such a thing exist?  Yet, here you are, sullying Monkey’s fine day with your blithering idiocy.  So, go on, cheer for your doomed boys and be sure to enjoy that long dark bus ride home where you will have plenty of time to contemplate yet another lose to the Crew.

Monkey is waiting for you in the parking lot.


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March the Twelfth

Today Monkey got you in ever so much trouble.  After weeks of chiding you finally begged the wife for “permission” to go out for, just a few, after work with the boys.  The plan would have worked to, if not for Monkey’s arrival.  When someone of his stature starts buying it’s hard to say no.  And when it’s high end Scotch it’s niegh on impossible.  But, after a few fine wee drams you started to get into the well hootch all by yourself.  11 O’clock rolled up and you called the wife, begged forgiveness and promised to be home by midnight.  Monkey waited until 1am to point out the time and your broken vow.  You however had hit the tipping point, just letting it roll off your drunken back.  “Can’t call now” you said, “she’ll be asleep.”  Next came last call, then a bit of a lock in finishing with you drinking the foulest chocolate stout Monkey keeps for his very best friends.  And what time is it?  4:30am?  Nice.  Good luck with that.  See you next year when you are allowed out again, dog house boy.

Monkey has a honey/lavender porter waiting for you.

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