IGX

seeahill wrote:Can't say why, but this story makes me smile in a sentimental sort of way.

Dr. Agkistrodon wrote:Bud you posted that so quickly after I hit submit that I have to scratch my head and wonder how long you've had that particular trump card up your sleeve, waiting to play it.

Kazuya Mishima wrote:You're up late at night drinking pretentious beer and reading abused monkey testimonies? Meanwhile, your promises of delivering a healing salve to remedy the blight of small dickness have all come to nothing...NOTHING!!!

Good God man, where's your dedication to science? Where's your commitment to hang big long ugly dangling trouser snakes on all of mankind (or, at least those of us who can afford the goods...no freebies to welfare niggers and pensioners like that goddamned Andy93 or whatever the fuck he's up to).

I can understand if you were up all night drinking your over-priced swill from some est. 2008 microbrewery, and putting on airs like a man who thinks he's too good to drink Budweiser or Coors Light like a real working stiff if only you were trolling chat rooms for a cyber partner (read: a guy willing to pretend he's a woman until after you finish) or searching for that PERFECT nugget of "European mature takes on an 18 year old boy after catching him wanking to a well worn issue of Swank" from some godforsaken Russian pr0n tube poster site. That...THAT...I can forgive. We've all got to kick back with the devil's ball sweat every once in a while to drown away the existential meaninglessness of this life...we've all got to grease our palm from time-to-time and jack away the sorrow of "no pussy tonight" to the shocking image of three hung niggers from darkest Africa grudge fucking the chafed orifices of some dumb blonde from the valley.

But...monkeys...really?

syaigh wrote:Yeah, well, I think I can empathize with this a great deal. Almost adopted a dog (for real) one night. Thank god I have this, "wait a minute, you're drunk, knock it off" instinct that kicks in about 33% of the time.

syaigh wrote: kicks in about 33% of the time.

I like Monkeys

The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece. I thought this was odd since they were normally a couple thousand dollars. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth so I bought 200 of them. I like monkeys.

I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one of them drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright. They kept punching themselves in the genitals. I laughed. They punched me in the genitals. I stopped laughing.

I herded them into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their new environment. They would screech and hurl themselves off the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the spectacle lost its novelty halfway into it's third hour.

Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive; they all died. No apparent reason. They all just sort of dropped dead. Kinda like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. God damn cheap monkeys.

I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room; on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw rugs. I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and one hundred ninety-nine dead, dry monkeys.

I tried to pretend that they were just stuffed animals. That worked for awhile, that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell real bad.

I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in my toilet and I didn't want to call a plumber. I was embarrassed.

I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately there was only enough room for two at a time, so I had to change them every 30 seconds.

I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn't go bad.

I tried to burn them, but little did I know that my bed was flammable. I had to extinguish the fire.

Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and one hundred ninety-seven dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed. The odour wasn't improving.

I became agitated at my inability to dispose of the dead monkeys and I really had to use the bathroom. So I went and severely beat one of the monkeys. I felt better.

I tried throwing them away but the garbage man said the city was not allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him I had a wet one. He couldn't take it either. I didn't bother asking about the frozen ones.

I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My friends didn't quite know what to say. They pretended to like them, but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them in the genitals.

I like monkeys.

syaigh wrote:Yeah, well, I think I can empathize with this a great deal. Almost adopted a dog (for real) one night. Thank god I have this, "wait a minute, you're drunk, knock it off" instinct that kicks in about 33% of the time.

Bud Charniga's gaping asshole wrote:Considering that you got drunk while listening to the fucking Smiths, any night that didn't end with you staring down an anonymous dick and weeping softly should be considered a triumph.

Blaidd Drwg wrote:

Bud Charniga's gaping asshole wrote:Considering that you got drunk while listening to the fucking Smiths, any night that didn't end with you staring down an anonymous dick and weeping softly should be considered a triumph.

That's a takedown. 2 points