Monkey: Part 2

Don't think that I dont now how high expectations I have set myself up for because I have titled this "Monkey: Part 2" I know that by now I have a large following of loyal readers, but the biggest reason for the largenitude of this great scale is that I mostly appeal to idiots. Your an idiot for reading this, your an idiot for knowing me, and your definitely an idiot if you are my friend. And because all of you are idiots your faces should be shitted on accordingly, but, as Homer would say, "I'm only one man Marge." Ill get to you all though, have little fear of that. This sequel will not be a piece of shit sequel like so many other people have produced. It wont be like Peter Frampton's "Frampton Comes Alive 2" which was a cheap rip off combining such music forms as blues, reggae, salsa, pasta, and Swedish blonde. It will not be like a super senior that goes around and drinks again with everyone that is a year younger over and over again, until his eventual and inevitable crack cocaine bust. Granted I've never, "Fucked on Coke" as so many bathroom wall scrawls encourage me to do. Generally I am against phrases on bathroom walls, although I do leave phone numbers of my friend Kevin telling to "ask for Sandy," his mom, as well as mikes phone number telling them to ask for "Mike's Mom" and once, I even left my Grandma's phone number, "Evelyn." Also in bathrooms I always pee on the toilet seats. I see it as a form of capitalism, but instead of propelling myself above the rest, I bring them down by making them sit on my urine.

Anyway, back to monkey's. Monkeys are good people. One time I was talking to this monkey and he said to me, "Yo dude, I'll bet you 50 bucks that I can give you the best foot job of your life." And then I said, "Shut up you damn monkey, you can't eve talk you idiot!" Then he said back to me, "Ok, I'll bet you a hundred bucks." This got me really mad, because I believe that I have a bright future, and I didn't want 'Soliciting foot sex from a primate" to hang around on my criminal record. I went on to tell him what a jackass he was and that he was nasty and I didnt want a foot job at all, I went on and on explaining that to him, and in the end he was right, it was the best foot job I ever had. It was those foot thumbs that he had, to put it mildly, he had a very good grip. I also met another monkey. He was a special monkey though, because he was bald and pink. I met him at the St. Louis zoo. He was pretty wise, he became my mentor, and I his protege. We would stroll the grounds of the zoo at nite and he would tell me ways I should change my life. He would say things like, "never scratch the back lightly of a green toad muffin." I didnt know what he meant by that, but I never have and everything has been ok I guess. Also, I started a midnite basketball league with some of his monkey friends. Boy, those were some good times. We got into some really intense games, some which involved poo fights in the end, I always won those though cause my poo was bigger and I could throw harder. On one occasion I threw a poo so hard it knocked a monkeys head off. We were all shocked at first, but then we played kickball with his head, which was fun, but it was hard to kick REALLY far. I could only usually kick it far enough to get a double. In addition, it got kind of soggy after a while. After those games we would go out with all the monkeys and wash our legs and feet off. Those shower scenes had the naked commrodarie of a lesbian porno video, but only with out any touching or sex or lesbians, and quite ironically, it wasn't even taped! To this day I still keep his head around under my pillow. Mostly cause I'm into really grossing out myself. I'll take a good smell of his rotten head and gain a new respect for the pleasant odor of farts, but then again, I never really hated the smell of farts either. Safety.