It's Unnatural, You and That Monkey

Have you ever seen the movie "Monkey Shines"? The George Romero movie? I don't remember it being any good, but man. I mainly remember the guy sucking on a dry cleaning bag, and the monkey throwing lit matches at the lady. The whole unrequited jealous crazy monkey thing is a hell of a thing.

The Sun is a Horrible Monster

The sun is a horrible monster. I hate it.

I left a message for Bazbo, leaving her the news, but she never called back. I kind of drank a silly amount, waiting. Buncha whiskey. I feel like shit. Work can go to hell.

Best Cat and Pie in Show

Woo hoo, woo hoo, woo hoo hoo hoo hoo! I got a couple more pieces of Chute swag for Bazbo. One of the bags (another zero tag, if that means anything) had enough room by the padlocks for me to sort of get my fingers in there and snag a couple of photos.

One of them is this bunch of rich suits standing out in the woods (trees) with these golden shovels with yellow ribbons tied around the handles. They're all standing in a row and grinning at the camera, wearing these shiny gold hard hats, pretending they're about to dig a big hole.

You know and I know they're not going to dig a hole. Some guy like me is gonna come in afterwards and dig their hole.

The other picture doesn't have any trees in it, so maybe Bazbo will let me keep this one because it cracks me up: It's this well-to-do looking couple in front of a big velvet curtain. The woman is holding this big orange housecat, and the man is holding a pie. The big orange cat and the pie both have blue ribbons on them. The man and the woman are standing there wearing fancy evening clothes with this blue ribbon cat and this blue ribbon pie, next to a sign on an easel that says BEST CAT AND PIE IN SHOW. They look pretty happy about the whole thing, about having the best cat and pie in show.

Must've been a State Fair, or something.

We are Making Great Strides for The Cigar Smoking Ape

Go here: The Subservient Chicken. Tell the chicken "And a Chimp Shall Lead Us." You'll see what I mean.

Now, I'm not saying this Corporation knows properly of Ape, no. But there are people within the Corporation who are of Ape. Those of Ape are changing the Corporation, through the medium of a chicken. And if a chicken leads to Ape, there's no telling what marvels we are capable of. Just no telling.

There are many Corporations becoming Ape from within.

We are Winning, Smash by Smash!

Nothing in the freaking Chute Room today, by the way. But still. This made my night, friends.

My Fair Lady

Nothing in the Chute Room today, but that figures. Vanderboom didn't say anything about me calling in sick on Friday. Didn't say anything about my "priorities" or anything like that. Which is good, because I would have smashed him. I'm just biding my time.

Last night I watched My Fair Lady. It's always on, but I hadn't bothered until now. There were just a bunch of torture shows on other channels, so I watched it.

It was great. This old skeeze enslaves this guttertrash chick, then he and his pervy buddy make her put on all these costumes and kinky hats. It's pretty cool.

The chick meets this stalker at a kinky hat show they're having at this horse race, and the stalker falls for her because she goes around talking about ass all the time.

They don't really get into the stalker angle as much as they could have, as much as they would have now, because it was filmed in 1964. It's a musical, so they do give the stalker this big theme song while he's lurking around outside the house where the two old skeezes keep the chick locked up. The stalker creeps around the yard, staring at the front door all bug eyed and singing about how he's never gonna leave the street where she lives so he can grab her when she comes out.

At the end the guttertrash chick escapes and the stalker nearly gets her, but she's got Stockholm Syndrome so she just goes back to the old guy who imprisoned her in the first place and he starts right back in making her fetch things for him while he sits in this big comfortable chair.

I know most people hate old movies, but that one's tripped out.

Pornography and Wisconsin, with Kringle

So I got up this morning and ate a little bit of the kringle. Then I went out to buy some coffee, because I had none.

I passed this little guy on the street carrying a two foot stack of shrink-wrapped pornography. The top one had some big skank on it. There's a magazine store around the corner the direction he was going. So it was a delivery, not a purchase. That'd be a lot of pornography to buy in one go. Unless it was a present or something.

Then I passed this big tattooed hipster guy wearing a T-shirt that said "Freak Out!" He was talking to I guess his wife, because she was pushing a stroller with a little tot in it. As he passed, I heard him saying, "If they're unhappy, they should get their ass to the cheese convention in middle America." Their kid in the stroller was playing with a turkey baster.

So. I'm gonna look up more about Wisconsin, instead of pornography.

I don't know what the turkey baster means.

Bazbo Drops by with a Kringle

Bazbo rang my buzzer this morning, crazy early for a Saturday, like ten o'clock. She brought over a cranberry kringle. It's this sort of round coffeecake donut thing with a hole in the middle that looks like a small deflated inner tube or slot car race track. She special orders them from Wisconsin, where she's from. We talked about kringles for awhile, she says they're a perfect Ape food, and The Cigar Smoking Ape runs a cooperative in Racine that makes them. It's pretty damn good, tell you what.

It was small talk about kringles and Wisconsin, and all the time I've got the disc and the photo just sitting there on the table. I didn't know how to bring it up, and didn't know why she wasn't bringing it up, since that's why she was here.

She was looking especially fine, by the way. She's blonde, smells good.

I asked her about Ape Camp next weekend, and she said, "Forget about that right now, you don't need to be at Ape Camp, we need you where you are most of all."

I was all crestfallen, and she put her hand on my arm and told me I was further along than most of the people going to Ape Camp anyhow. "And this is proof," she said, and she picked up the photo of trees. "This is perfect," she said, "this is exactly what we need right now."

I started to tell her about the film of Roy Orbison eating dog food off a frisbee with a wooden spoon, and she shrugged. She said, "Orbison's gone, but we're here and growing."

She showed me the photo of the trees, and pointed out that you can sort of see some sort of manhole cover set in the ground. A cistern, she said. I don't know, I guess she can sort of see that, but I couldn't see anything but blurry trees and leaves and stuff. "More like this," she said. "There's lots more of this coming through your job that we don't even know about. Anything with trees, we need." She said The Cigar Smoking Ape needs it above all else now, and I was the only person who could get it for the Ape of Us All.

I quickly figured I wouldn't be quitting my job any time soon. "So I'm not going to be able to quit my job any time soon, am I?" I asked.

She smiled kind of sly and sideways and said she thought she might be able to help me out with that soon. She said she'll get ahold of me by Wednesday, but in the meantime to keep doing what I'm doing, and to watch out for "anything with trees" coming through the Chute Room.

Then she said she had to go. She took the photo and the disc, but left the kringle for me. I'm gonna eat it slow.

When she left she kissed me at the door.

Head Hurts

My head hurts. Called in sick with the brown bottle flu. Don't know where Bazbo is, she still hasn't called me back. Woulda just quit on the phone, told Vanderboom where to go, wanna talk to Bazbo first. Freaking Roy Orbison. Man.

A Little Drunker, Still Weird: Henrietta Pussycat

This Roy Orbison thing is getting me down.

I don't get it. The guy made good money, right? I always liked his songs.

This is kinda shaking up my world. It's like that Mr. Rogers bootleg video some buddies of mine had back in high school, they thought it was hilarious but it just made me sad and anxious and nervous.

That episode where they replaced the Henrietta Pussycat puppet with a mummified human hand. Nobody at PBS noticed at first, and it ran in reruns for awhile until they pulled it and erased all mention of it from the syndication catalogue. It was one of the Purple Planet episodes, with Purple Panda talking to this mummified hand about how lying makes your friends feel bad.

I kind of remembered that episode from when I was little, because I loved Purple Panda and all that. But I remembered Purple Panda talking to Henrietta Pussycat, not a mummified human hand. But there it was on the bootleg--a mummified human hand living in that tree next to X the Owl.

Messed up.

Why was Roy Orbison eating dog food off a frisbee with a wooden spoon?

A Little Drunk, but This is Weird: Roy Orbison

I still haven't heard back from Bazbo. I called her a couple of times tonight.

And now maybe I've had a little whiskey. You wanna make something of it?

The photo I took was just a photo of some trees, all kinda blurry, none too exciting.

It's this disc that's weirded out, man. First I put it in the stereo, and it was just this screechy howly noise. So, okay, I put it in my computer, and it said I didn't have the software to open it. I tried opening it as a text file, but just got a bunch of computer numbery junk.

So then a little bit ago I put it in my DVD player. That did the trick.

It's this little movie that looks like old surveillance video. The time sig tag in the corner says "Jul 7 1979" and it's just Roy Orbison sitting at a table in a kitchen, eating dog food off a frisbee with a wooden spoon. This big Alpo can is on the table next to the frisbee. I can't tell what flavor it is. The footage is all black and white and smudgy, but sure enough that's Roy Orbison, with those glasses and that hair.

Why was Roy Orbison eating dog food off a frisbee with a wooden spoon? Why was it videotaped? Why's that coming through the Chute Room?

Where's Bazbo?

In the Chute Room: The Chute Room Comes Through!

I'm singing. I'm running around my place singing here. Today was the day! Today the Chute Room came through!

So like I said, I've been toiling away there in the Chute Room like a crazy person. Then this bag comes down the upper middle chute with a zero tag on it, so I'm supposed to stuff it down the middle bottom chute.

Except, like I said, lately I've been none too gentle with the bags when they come down. I notice this one's straps are a little frayed up where the padlock is, so I toss it around the room a bit. I was banging it against the sides of the bottom chutes, looking over my shoulder to make sure Vanderboom isn't standing there.

The bag has all kinds of junk in it, I can tell. I can hear hard things clanking against hard things, feel soft things shifting around, and it's heavy like it is when there's also stacks and stacks of paper. Your typical Chute Room bag.

I'm banging it around, then BLAMMO! A couple of the padlock straps snap and I'm spinning around spraying the contents all over the place. And yeah, it's documents and paperweights and CD-ROMs and old overalls and sports cleats and dried roses and photographs . . . a fine cross section of Chute Room swag.

Bazbo said it really didn't matter what I swiped, and I didn't have any time to be choosy. I grabbed a CD and a photograph and stuffed them down my pants. Then I hit the button on the wall and turned my back while Vanderboom and his jokers came in with the cart to spirit the mess away.

I was terrified that the jig was up, but the jig wasn't up. They just treated it normal.

I worked the rest of the day all sweaty in the crotch, with the CD and photo pinching my nether regions. I didn't dare mess with them, didn't want to get caught with 'em in my hands. I just checked in the bathroom to see if you could notice anything up and sweated out the day.

I called Bazbo's line and left her a message. I still haven't heard back. Where's she at?

Man, oh, man, oh, man, oh, man. I am absolutely singing over here. Guess who's gonna call in sick tomorrow? I'm gonna call in sick tomorrow! I may never have to go to the Chute Room again. Bang ZOOM!

Elaine Stritch at Liberty

I was flipping channels last night and saw the end of something called Elaine Stritch at Liberty.

It was this old lady in tights who screamed at an audience, then danced with a python. After awhile she brought out this container full of crickets and grubs and ate them while everybody howled.

Trippy stuff. No wonder this place is going to the dogs. Instead of the Apes.

And yeah, yeah: Chute Room update equals nada. I say tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

There's another Ape Camp coming up soon. I don't think I'll get to go if something doesn't turn up. If something doesn't turn up I'm going to go Ape ballistic.

Zombie in the Chute Room

I'm going completely out of it. Smash it. Smash it all.

I Am Going to Smash Everyone

Nothing! Nothing again today! And I wasn't gentle with the bags in the chute room, no, not at all. The bags would come down, and I'd fling them around, whacking them against the sides of the chutes, trying to get one of them to split open.

One of them has got to split open. If I can't get inside these bags, I can't talk to Bazbo again. If I can't talk to Bazbo again, I'm going to smash everyone.

I feel like an Ape. I feel like a raging, insane Ape. I'm Kongstyle, I'm Berzerker Ape, I'm all aroar.

Vanderboom came by the chute room today. I was standing there covered in sweat and breathing hard. He started to say something, but I just looked at him. I looked at him like I wanted to eat him. He just backed right on out of there. Keep back, Fool! Keep back or I'll tear you, I'll rend you! I'll crack the marrow from your bones. Don't mess with me at work, not now.

I've gotta get inside those bags.

Since We Quit Being Apes

Nobody's gotten any smarter, or funnier, or prettier since we quit being apes.

We've got to become Ape again or we are lost.

If I don't discover something at work tomorrow, I am lost.

It's been a lost weekend. But here's something I was thinking about: If you put an angel in a blender on frappe, caramel comes out.