Monday, June 24, 2013

Shoo has a clogged toilet. I figured out how that happened.

I love Monkeys

The pet store was selling them for five cents apiece.  I thought this was odd since they normally sell for a few thousand a piece.  I decided not to look the gift horse in the mouth, so I bought 200 of them.  I love 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.

When I got home, I herded them into my room.  They didn't adapt 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 its third hour.

Two hours later, I found out why the monkeys were so inexpensive.  They all died for no apparent reason.  They all just kinda dropped dead, kinda like when you buy a goldfish and it dies 5 hours later.  Damn cheap monkeys.

I didn't know what to do.  There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room.  They were on the bed, in the dresser; hanging from my book case, etc.  It looked like I had 200 little throw rugs.

I tried to flush one down the toilet.  It didn't work.  It got stuck.  So I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead dry monkeys.  I tried to pretend they were just stuffed animals.  That worked for a while, until they started 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 so embarrassed.  I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them.  Unfortunately there was only room for two at a time, so I had to change them every 30 seconds.  I had to eat all the food in the freezer so It wouldn't go bad.  I tried to burn them but little did I know my bed was flammable.  I had to extinguish the fire.  Then I had 1 dead wet monkey in my toilet, two dead frozen monkeys in my freezer, and 197 dead charred monkeys in a pile on my bed and the odor wasn't improving.

I became so 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 wouldn't take that either.  I didn't bother asking him about the frozen ones.

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

I love Monkeys

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