All posts by steve

The dark alleyway was bulging with the blight of the city. Trashcans overflowed with the detritus of civilization. The pale glow of the moon filtered down through the rusted metal of slightly sagging fire escapes. Brick building surfaces that constituted the walls of this urban prison sweated the city?s stench. Not even cats would venture here in search of a meal. It was certainly no place for a young boy.

Billy was trying to get home from school. Doe-eyed innocence prevented him from seeing the mortal danger he was in. Blindly and gaily, he pranced, backpack bouncing endearingly behind him, hoping that this alleyway would funnel him home where a cool glass of milk and a sticky rice-crispy treat waited to greet him. He was moving along at a good clip when he hit something solid that knocked him back onto a rotten banana peel.

“Hold it right there, kid,” rasped a frightening voice.
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I’m a recent convert to the world of diet soda. Either I’ve acquired the taste or aspartame has numbed my taste buds to the point of uselessness (my taste buds recently filed for disability). Any way you slice it, I’m a lover of the diet soda, especially Diet Dr. Pepper.

My love of Diet Dr. Pepper is so great that I’ve given it a playful nickname. In a move that would make Snoop Dogg set down his doobage and exclaim, “DAMN!? I began referring to the Pepper as “Docta Pizzle.” Fo sheezy, Docta Pizzle is definitely off the heezy and up in this hizzle.
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Hello beloved Chimpsahoy readers! I’m sure you have all been able to see that I’ve been conspicuously absent from the Chimpsahoy annals lately. I could make up a multitude of excuses, but mostly I’ve been locked in a brig for the last four months undergoing scourging at the hands of filthy pirates. Yes. Anyway, I escaped and now I have to do stuff like pay back taxes and water my azaleas. To fill in for me while I catch up on my unkempt life, I’ve called in my old friend Carl. He’s a dirty old man, but an experienced man, having been around the block a few hundred times, front ways and back. I thought that Chimpsahoy would be a good place for him to share his musings and un-wisdom with a host of generally young and naive readers. Without further ado…Carl:
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Have you ever sat around eating carrots when suddenly you got to the point where there were too many carrots going in and some of the partially chewed carrots got lodged in your throat? There was some kind of logjam effect and you couldn’t seem to get all the carrots you had put in since the log jam to go down. Panic set in and you wished you hadn’t been eating baby carrots because if you had been eating regular carrots, you could have used a really long one as a sort of broom handle to plunge the carrot mass down your throat. Since you were eating baby carrots, all you could do was sit there and “blorp,” thinking about how to make sure you told everyone important that you loved them and how to make sure all your possessions got properly distributed after your demise. Then the carrot jam righted itself and slipped effortlessly down your esophagus and all was right with the world again. You sat there, thinking about what just happened, and then, like a mindless chimp, you went back to work, forgetting all that you just learned about carrots and mortality.

I have.

With each passing day, I become more painfully aware of an ongoing battle. The battle, unlike most epic struggles, is between two people I know very well. Evil Morning Steve and Vengeful Normal Steve. Evil Morning Steve is devious in his ploys. Some mornings he will play horrible tricks on Normal Steve by shutting off his alarm without telling him so that he’s late for class. Occasionally he’ll betray precious Steve secrets by talking in his sleep. He even says ridiculous things to people on the phone. A conversation one morning between Jessica, Steve’s fianc鬠and Evil Morning Steve:
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Do you ever get the feeling that you’re being condescended to? I go to a major university…heck, I’ve even made it to my senior year with nary a mishap. Sure, I’m not a biology major or master of brain science. I am merely an education major, but still, it’s gotta be harder than getting into a bar before puberty (which even the most modest of simpletons seems capable of in this college town). Long story short, I can generally manage to wipe myself and make it out of the house without anything showing that shouldn’t be. Why do I need a class that endeavors to teach me the intricacies of Powerpoint?
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