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01.23.04
Funky Monkey Love
I was just sitting here at my desk, minding my own beeswax, when BAM! I got hit with two things.

1. Exhaustion.

I heard Shawn and her boyfriend come home last night. It was liquor-soaked and not pretty. I’m usually pretty much un-wake-able once I’m out, and they woke me. This is a testament to the intensity of their argument. Drama, drama, drama.

Tears. Shouting. Phone calls to taxi companies. Threats. Tears. The sound of a fresh St. Pauli Girl being cracked open, because THAT’S what they needed. A nightcap.

So much drama I felt like I should have handed out Emmys or Soapies or something when I woke up this morning.

2. Pain.

We sparred yesterday. I fought a 12-year-old girl who is also a black belt. This is interesting, because I had about a foot and 50 pounds on her – she was more experienced than me, but I only had to nail a half assed kick to send her flying a few feet backwards.

And I ain’t bad, so I was able to do that a few times.

But that little bitch has a right jab from hell, and she nailed me in the bicep with it not once, but twice.

I have not only a bruise, but a freaking LUMP on my ARM.

***

I’ve been meaning to tell you guys what I did a few Sundays ago for a long time now.

Beaker took me to The Monkey Jungle.

Could also be called The 12% Beer wet dream.

I’d wanted to go there a long time, and he needed to make something up to me, so viola! Trip to The Monkey Jungle.

I love the Monkey Jungle with an unholy passion. I haven’t loved a place like that in a long, long time. Beaker practically had to drag me out.

They web site is right – the people are in cages, and the monkeys run free. Well, pretty much. Hanging from the ceiling of the people cages were chains with little bowls attached. You’d put some monkey munchies in the bowl, and the monkeys would reach through these holes in the top of the cage and pull that chain up, hand over hand… they looked like little sailors, pulling up the anchor.

I had three favorite monkey moments.

1. The spider monkeys. They are just so cool, the way they move – hands, feet, tails, swing, whee! They hypnotized me for a LONG time, until Beaker started pulling on my shirtsleeve and whining.

2. This mommy monkey with her baby monkey in her lap! The baby was playing with this hanging branch nearby, and the mommy kept picking at her baby’s hair, and swatting her kid’s hand away from the branch, and holding her monkey kid just like people moms hold people kids. It killed me.

3. These two teeny tiny little baby monkeys – one had somehow gotten a hold of a red bottle cap, and was holding it between its teeth. His other little baby monkey friend was chasing him, and they were essentially playing a complicated and goofy game of keepaway. This all happened about 1 foot from me, while I squatted right by the fence, enthralled, watching little baby monkeys chase each other around this tree.

Oh, I forgot one.

4. Beaker and I found this kind of off-the-beaten-path place. I don’t think it was Not Allowed, but it was this stone wall, and while we were leaning on it, about a jillion monkeys entered this clearing in front of us. I don’t know if they were on their way to a board meeting or a monkey freedom protest or what, but all of a sudden, there were half the monkeys in the joint, playing and sitting and eating and goofing off right in front of us and only us.

Despite the monkeyhumping stereotypes, this also marks the only time all day we saw monkeys HAVING SEX. A boy monkey perched on top of a girl monkey and humped away for about 20 seconds while I poked Beaker, pointed, and giggled. I think the boy monkey has blue balls, because they weren’t going at it for very long before the girl monkey let out this barbaric screech, then literally ran out from under the boy monkey’s monkey penis.

Thus ended my adventure at The Monkey Jungle. God, I love that place. Everyone in America should be required to take a trip there. Except for maybe George W. Bush, because he kind of looks like a monkey and maybe when he was hanging out with the monkeys he’d start to blend in, and no one would recognize him, and then maybe his advisors would just shrug their shoulders and leave him in the jungle.

I can’t wait to go back.

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