ChimpsAhoy

So sometime when you’re home alone and you don’t have anything to do (and let’s be honest, if you’re reading a blog called Chimpsahoy…it’s a regular occurrence), here’s something neat you can try. It’s right up there with creating a salt-crystal garden or raising sea monkeys. It’s an old writer’s exercise called ABC stories. Here’s how it works:

1) Each letter of the alphabet starts a sentence.
2) It has to be a cohesive story with a beginning, middle and end.
3) You have to use all the letters.

Give it a try. Post your experiments to the comments section. After the leap, you’ll find one of mine, a rip-roaring yarn about a pirate. I’m so alone.
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Tonight I had my first blind date. I’ve always wanted to go on a blind date for the two possible outcomes. One, if it goes really well, that is a good thing for obvious reasons. Two, if it is disastrous, this is also a good thing. Sometimes a horrific and embarrassing story you can retell later on is just as good as true love. Mine fell somewhere in the middle. It wasn’t bad, and it wasn’t necessarily good.

I want to be very clear that I am not disrespecting the date I took out. Sometimes people just don’t mesh. This should be expected. I think we both recognized this, but unfortunately, neither of us had enough gauze to stop the hemorrhaging wounds.
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Another Friday nite spent doing my homework. The only highlight of my evening was playing with my monkey:

Bungee monkey does the dew.

This whacked out chimp has elastic arms that can fire the primate over 30 feet. But, our apartment isn’t that long, so we just shoot the monkey into the wall most of the time. But, I think the monkey has seen it’s last day.

Let me explain: we’ve developed a sick game around here. See, the monkey makes a wild jungle ape sound when it hits something, so if it hits the wall and then the ground it screams two times. Well, the game we play involves trying to get the monkey to scream the most times.

Anyway, I was working on a five-screamer (for a new apartment record). I skipped bungee monkey off of the cabinets, into the ceiling, off of a double corner wall, and I was well on my way when the monkey stopped screaming. It was weird. We stopped laughing, and I swear this is exactly how the monkey landed:

Needless to say, life hasn’t been the same since the monkey stopped screaming. He only makes retard jungle sounds now: mostly slurring his words and not completing sentences. I have to balance his checkbook now too.

I think he has severe head damage. I’m hoping he’ll still be able to function in life. Maybe he’ll get a real job at Taco Bell or as a pro wrestler.