The monkeys did it

I did get your email.

Yes I did.

See, here is what you may not understand. It's not always about you. I know, I get it. You have expectations. I understand. Yes. Let me sit down. The thing is, right now, it can not be about you.

As I'm sure you've heard, and since the vast majority of the people who read this blog do so in foreign countries, I will remind those who may not follow American news or Fox News as much as we do here in the states, what you have probably heard is that a group of fairly sophisticated monkeys, 17 of them, escaped from the local zoo and have just been running roughshod over the region.

It's true, that is all true, it's in all the papers. I'm serious.

Last week, I think a week ago today, no, make it two weeks ago, the plan fell into place. Now, the amazing thing, at least for me, some people have differing opinions, but for me, the most amazing thing is the relentless planning the 17 monkeys have been going through to not only escape all at once, but to also have created fake identities, rented a car from Admiral and even started running a card game in the Strip District. Many people, mostly the people I have been hearing calling conservative talk radio shows, have expressed the opinion that this is exactly what happens when you have a muslin liberal communist Kenyan running everything, or something like that.

My friend Becky called from the Space Station Felix to ask about the monkeys. Her first question? Tell me about the poo. That's the other thing, aside from the daring daylight escape, the rental car, the late night card club and bordello, oh shit, I forgot about the bordello, yeah, the monkeys are running a hugely successful bordello, brought in a lot of real good looking women from Cleveland. Again, that is just what I have heard on the local Public Radio station, which for the most part has terrible news coverage, but even a blind and deaf man could make an interesting story of 17 brilliant monkeys running roughshod over a city, taking up in the strip district of all colorful places. My lord, the story seems to write itself. The bordello was apparently incredibly successful and even more beauties from surrounding communities are right now on buses on their way here.

That's what I hear, any way.

A few of you might remember the story from a couple of years ago, the anti-gay right crazies were all over it. Seems that two monkeys at the zoo had been friends, then became friends with benefits and over time developed what was pretty obviously a relationship. The problem for some people was that the monkeys were named Bruce and Eric. I think it was Erick with a K, but I can't bring myself to spell it that way. Sue me.

Anyway, for a couple of weeks, there was all this talk from intellectuals, using Eric and Bruce as an obvious example that not only is homosexuality something that occurs naturally in nature (everyone then said, gross), but that long term committed love is possible in any relationship, or something like that. I found the story adorable because Eric had a belly. He looked like a middled aged bald man with a belly and I thought he was just adorable and if Bruce could find such a specimen attractive, then I say, more power to them. Of course they could not marry, not because they were gay, that was the least of the issues, I think the biggest problem was they were monkeys. Yeah, that was the real problem.

The city had a terrible debate about whether the zoo should have a wedding for Bruce and Eric. In the end, fall came and we all seemed to forget about it. Fall is not a good time for any sort of wedding, much less a gay monkey wedding. I would have gone though, just for the spectacle, because we can all agree the gays know how to do the wedding thing, one can only imagine the crazy shit in store for you at a monkey gay wedding.

No wedding ever happened and at some point, Eric and Bruce just kind of faded into some hidden area of the monkey pen. No one really talks of them, I can not remember the last thing I heard about them, until the escape, of course.

For the last two years, the long term, committed lovers have been creating all sorts of documents for the post escape life. They would need some sort of wallet, and inside would need to be some sort of drivers license, just in case. Credit cards were stolen from unsuspecting zoo watchers. The lovers spent months creating auto insurance forms, credit history for a created monkey person named Jupiter Meesvian. They were even able to get a credit card in Mr. Meesvians name sent to the zoo. Late one night they broke into the main zoo office and took it off a desk. That was 18 months ago. So think about that, over 2 years ago, these two brilliant gay monkeys were planning the details of life after escaping the confines of the zoo.

Of course, once people realized that 17 angry and bitter mistreated monkeys would be shitting any where they damn well pleased, the excitement of monkeys running freely around society became a distant memory, replaced instead with armed mobs of people wearing plastic suits and carriyng shot guns and other weaponry.

The first battle was all monkey shit. There were about 7 men in plastic suits, the had formed a line, probably not a wise thing to do. While they had cut holes in industrial trach bags, and wore these as ponchos covering their upper bodies, for the most part, their heads were open targets. Looking back, most people had not really expected the monkeys to have prepared with shit slinging devices of such accuracy and velocity that the hunters, in a matter of seconds, retreated, screaming, rubbing the shit off their faces and out of their eyes, shooting their guns in the air in a futile attempt to regain just a sliver of their manhood. Complete failures have more pride.

After that first encounter, the posses grew larger and better prepared. Which was wise, because the monkeys had made it quite clear, this particular battle was being played on completely different terms. One night, a band of monkeys broke into the most popular Starbucks in the city and spent the night urinating and defacating into the coffee machines. About 100 people were happily served their morning coffee before someone noticed the monkey turd in his latte.

The mayor gave a late night speech and said any monkey could be shot on sight. He even said people could keep the dead monkey as a prize. It was a weird speech really. I mean, looking back, it was hard to stomach, the mayor, asking his citizens to take up arms against 17 smart assed monkeys. Two of whom were out homosexuals. It all seemed so tragic.

And then they were gone. Over the weeks there were monkey shit storms that closed bridges. The postal service found mail boxes filled to the brim with monkey poop. Starbucks was not the only fast food restaurant that found monkey droppings mixed with the food, but as I write this a federal judge who was nominated to the bench by George Bush, has issued an injunction that will not allow me to mention the burgers at Wendys, McDonalds, Burger King, Sandys Shack, Colonel Flemmer and Maxines Hair Pie. Not one of them was mentioned. Although most people suspect each and every one of those restaurants has served and may continue to serve burgers filled in part with monkey poop.

The posse finally figured out that the monkeys had taken over a building near downtown. They set about mounting a 100 man contingent of drunks, crazies and right wing whackos with weapons to turn the place into a shooting range. They showed up at 9 at night and no one was there. The 100 men kicked in the door and rampaged the entire building, firing shots just to do it and making a complete mess. Since that night, there has been no sign of any of the monkeys. Investigators estimate that in the 2 weeks of freedom, from gambling, bank robbing, prostitution and meth making, they probably made close to 10 million dollars, and the mayor is always quick to remind people that the monkeys did at least that much in damage to the city, to personal and public property and to the entire image of the region.

It's really kind of sad. I was at the zoo this morning and the monkey cage is empty. There is a sense that one of those once in a lifetime moments has just passed. Then, while cruising the internet, I saw this. Wedding