Monkey Hate

I’ve made an odd discovery today. Apparently, I have something against monkeys. I’m almost disturbed by this revelation, but not really. I’m thinking that possibly I’m just full of hate towards a couple of specific monkeys but ya never know, I think I’ll might want to just avoid the monkey house at the zoo from now on. I know, you are wondering exactly which monkeys have pissed me off (or possibly, you are actually wondering if I’ve finally taken that leap off the edge of sanity and am sinking into the abyss of lunacy) and why I have such homicidal rage toward them.

Dora the Explorer’s stupid monkey friend Boots the Monkey. He’s an idiotic purplish monkey who wears bright red boots and always shouts when he talks (I’ll cut him some slack on that last part since everyone in Dora land speaks several decibels louder than any normal person and in both English and Spanish! Although maybe that’s just how you have to live in Dora land, where just about every animal and half of the inanimate objects can talk and everyone sings idiotic songs when they have to make a decision about anything. Still I’d pay money for a singing dancing baseball bat to shut that fucking monkey up.

The other primate in question is Curious George. I hate that fucking monkey and would call animal control to pick him up if I lived next door to him. That monkey causes so much trouble I’m SHOCKED that no one in that town has decided to put out a special plate of poison cookies for him. At least he doesn’t sing. However, he fucks up everything he comes in contact with. Someone please put that damn monkey in a cage and take him to a medical lab for testing!

WOW! I certainly have a lot of irrational rage focused on cartoon characters! WHEN WILL SUMMER BE OVER?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!

Ahem… I’m back now. Moving on.

Rising To The Occasion

Yesterday as the family and I drove to Wally World, we saw a mini van near the park with a shit load of balloons tied to the top. As I noticed it at the red light, I thought, “Why would anyone tie balloons to the top of their car?” The van drove under the bridge then turned onto the road ahead of us. As it got to the top of the hill balloons started flying off the van. K and I started laughing because we had a very vivid mental picture of what must be happening inside the van as more and more balloons escaped their binds and floated off to the heavens. By the time the van had driven half a mile more than half of the balloons on the van were gone. We had this conversation:

K: I bet it’s a man driving.
Me: and a woman in the passenger seat saying, “I told you not to tie those balloons on the van!”
K: and him saying, “It seemed like a good idea, it’s not like I could see out the back window if they were in here!”
Me: and a little kid in the back screaming “My balloons! My balloons! Whaaaa! My balloons!”

I almost wish we had followed the fan to see what happened when those doors opened.