Congratulations on Adopting a Monkey!

After watching the film The Hangover 2 (the predecessor of which was mentioned yesterday in a completely unrelated context) you had a bunch of ideas about zany antics that you could have with your estranged college friends and that one guy at work who acts a lot like Zack Gallifiankis’ character in the films but looks a lot more like character actor Richard Jenkins. Then you thought a little bit harder about it and realized that all of your friends are accountants or insurance assessors or middle managers and that they probably wouldn’t be terribly interested in fun or antics unrelated to ice cream.

So you opted to take matters into your own hands. You adopted a monkey.

The paperwork for the process was obtuse, shipping fees were insanely expensive and it’s taken a lot of time for everything to resolve in a legal sense. But today you’re going to get a crate from Thailand. Inside that crate there’s going to be a monkey. A few sad monkey with a very unusual facial growth.

This monkey is going to have a tiny moustache. Just like Hitler.

Just so we’re being totally clear: he’s not going to have a discolored area of fur that looks like a moustache. He’s going to have a full on Hitler stash.

You’ll unpack him and fix him a big old bowl of monkey chow, which he’ll devour ravenously. Then you’ll stuff the box and its monkey restraints into a closet, forgetting about it immediately. You’ll be excited at how much happier your monkey/surrogate child looks outside of his tiny cardboard prison. Your head will be filled with joyous thoughts of opportunity and potential in your relationship for the first hour. After that first hour he’ll finish devouring the foul monkey food you bought him, and then the trouble will start.

First you’ll emerge from the bathroom and catch him writing, in grammatically incorrect German, racist screeds against Jews. You’ll use a spray bottle to discipline him but an hour later you’ll find him at it again, this time writing about Jews, gays, and people who fit your general description.

After you discipline him again you’ll go to bed. Tomorrow the trouble will really start, when he attempts to take over your apartment in a sudden and violent paramilitary campaign that primarily relies on his feces. We don’t want to spoil it too hard, but we do want to say that if you don’t kill that monkey the world is going to be in deep trouble.

Just sayin’.

Congratulations on Adopting a Monkey!

Congratulations Thousands of Monkeys!

This one is actually directed to the thousands of monkeys who will eat you tomorrow after you topple into their enclosure, having spent the last week at the zoo harassing them with your ample food and freedom ceaselessly. They’ll tear you limb from limb and swallow your flesh chunks at a time, hooking at one another and masturbating the whole time. You’d be upset about it all, but you’ll be dead so you won’t really get a say.

We’d like to talk to the monkeys now.

Hey, monkeys. Thanks for killing that asshole.

Congratulations Thousands of Monkeys!