Pet Monkeys

He had a monkey, and rumor has it, he "beat it."

Here's the thing: I'm tired of rich celebrities with pet monkeys.  They so rarely understand that monkeys aren't supposed to be pets, and they don't take the time to nurture the damn monkeys.  I heard Michael Jackson tormented Bubbles the chimp by poking him with sticks and stuff.  The other day I saw a picture of Beyonce kissing a monkey.  Now that is just wrong.  You know why?

Keep putting the hat back on, and he will just keep lifting it up to look for lice to eat, dumby.

Because I wanna' kiss a monkey, God damn it!  Actually, kissing is a bit much.  I just want to a monkey hug.  Just a few.  I know that a pet monkey is a lot of work, and I'm no less selfish than a celebrity, so just a monkey for a day would be fine.

Bieber just went to jail, and I've been wondering who is going to house his monkey.  I would gladly do the right thing and take in the monkey.  But just for a day.  No, I wouldn't teach him to drink or smoke or anything messed up like that, but I can't promise that he wouldn't try on some super awesome outfits, maybe a few Metallica shirts.

Monkeys are trending.

#Monkey.  #Monkeyforaday.  #Monkeyhugs.

I just set the blog record for use of the word monkey in this post.  I figure if I say monkey enough, the right monkey owner will contact me and let me hang out with their monkey for a day.  You all better say monkey a few times in the comments just for good measure.

She has a damn tiger cub too?  Jesus H. Tap Dancing Christ on a pogo stick, that is cute!

Another Damn Bar Tale?

Last night after watching the Chicago Bears lose in terrible touchdown-less fashion, Oates, HLP, Cliff, and myself went to another bar for a few nightcaps.  We started getting friendly with some girls who were in there, and I remember putting on one girls' sweatshirt that was really snug on me and had glitter.  I like that feeling of tight clothes clinging tightly to me, like I'm getting a prolonged hug, so I just left it on for an hour or so like a total jackass.

For some reason, perhaps because a Michael Jackson song came on, another chick in there said she could do the moonwalk perfectly.  I expressed my doubt that she could, so we agreed that if it was good, I would buy her a drink.  She took her shoes off and did a pretty crappy, white moonwalk for a few of us to see.  I told her I was not that impressed because when Michael did it, it was faster and it looked like he was levitating, and when he did it for the first time at the Grammy's, we all lost our minds.  So, she yelled at me, said I was just some idiot in a girls' sweatshirt, and I'm pretty sure she called me a fag.  So, I just laughed my ass off at how angry she got over a stupid moonwalk, and that just made her more mad.

It should have looked a hell of a lot more like this:

 

Binge Drinking Recap #325

So yesterday I met HLP, his wife, and their baby out at a very hot and humid Chicago street festival nearby.  I'm really happy for him because I can tell he is totally content.  You know why?  He walks around a festival with tons of hot chicks around with a burp cloth on his shoulder, and when I point it out, he just leaves it there.  He had to go home, but luckily I bumped into some other friends, and Oats came out. 

We ended up at a random Lincoln Park bar because we thought they did karaoke.  Turns out they didn't, but everyone was smiling and we had a good vibe, so we just stuck around.  I like those bars where everyone talks to each other.  It didn't have those huge wolf packs of girls that only want to talk to each other.  One woman was there in a toga.  I mean, it was a really fancy toga, but still a toga.  Her friend said she picked her up and was like, "Okay.  A toga."  She was really nutty, so she kind of pulled it off.  She was nice too, but that didn't stop me from calling her the Iron Sheik and quoting Julius Caesar with an over exaggerated Charlton Heston voice. 

I then achieved a level of drunkenness where the Michael Jackson jokes just started flowing out of me.  That's a good level.  For me at least.