Monkeys

Attendees
meter@bmerhbfc
Colin Kemp 7K76 BNR
Author
Colin Kemp 7K76 BNR
Summary
For your information:


---forwarded-message---->


 May 03 16:15:00 1996

 To:          Seyma (S.)  Atik                   (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY
              James (J.L.)  Beuerman             (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY
              Brett (R.B.)  Buckingham           (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY
              Wee-Lin (W.L.)  Chew               (BNR)      Dept 7K76-M SKY
              Paul (P.J.)  Demers                (BNR)      Dept 7K76-M SKY
              Daniel (D.G.)  Doliska             (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY
              Colin (C.W.)  Kemp                 (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY
              John (J.A.)  Posavad               (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY
              Rajeev (R.)  Rajagopal             (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY
              Cameron (C.W.)  Turner             (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY
              Xinxin (X.)  Wang                  (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY

 Copy to:     Peter (P.J.)  Frellick             (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY

 From:        Holly (H.A.)  Armstrong            (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY

 Subject:     fw:Monkeys

Now *this* is humour. Unless you're normal. 
(obviously Peter thinks it's funny)

 hol


---forwarded-message---->


 Mar 04 08:19:00 1996

 To:          Peter (P.J.)  Frellick             (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY
              Bryan (B.J.)  Miller               (BNR)      Dept 7K62   SKY
              Donna (D.)  Tam                    (BNR)      Dept 7C76   SKY
              Holly (H.A.)  Armstrong            (BNR)      Dept 7K76   SKY
              Scott (S.)  Appleby                (BNR)      Dept 7C73   SKY

 From:        Kerry (K.)  Yackoboski             (BNR)      Dept 7C73   SKY

 Subject:     Monkeys

A friend culled this from some random newsgroup and sent it to me
because he thought I would find it funny.

--------->

I like monkeys.

The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece.  I thought that
odd since they were normally a couple thousand.  I decided not to look a
gift horse in the mouth.  I bought 200.  I like monkeys.

I took my 200 monkeys home.  I have a big car.  I let one drive.  His
name was Sigmund.  He was retarded.  In fact, none of them were really
bright.  They kept punching themselves in their genitals.  I laughed.
Then they punched my genitals.  I stopped laughing.

I herded them into my room.  They didn't adapt very well to their new
environment.  They would screech, hurl themselves off of 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 all the monkeys were so inexpensive:
they all died.  No apparent reason.  They all just sorta' dropped dead.
Kinda' like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later.  Damn
cheap monkeys.

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

I tried to flush one down the toilet.  It didn't work.  It got stuck.
Then I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead, dry monkeys.  I tried
pretending that they were just stuffed animals.  That worked for a
while, that is until they began to decompose.  It started to smell real
bad.

I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in the toilet and I didn't want
to call the plumber.  I was embarrassed.  I tried to slow down the
decomposition by freezing them.  Unfortunately, there was only enough
room for two monkeys at a time so I had to change them every 30 seconds.
I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn't all go bad.

I tried burning them.  Little did I know my bed was flammable.  I had to
extinguish the fire.  Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two
dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and 197 dead, charred monkeys in a
pile on my bed.  The odor wasn't improving.

I became agitated at my inability to dispose of my monkeys and to use
the bathroom.  I severely beat one of my monkeys.  I felt better.  I
tried throwing them away but the garbage man said that the city was not
allowed to dispose of charred primates.  I told him that I had a wet
one.  He couldn't take that one either.  I didn't bother asking 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 that they like
them, but I could tell they were lying.  Ingrates.  So I punched them in
the genitals.

I like monkeys.


Christian Vandendorpe
[email protected]