Twinkies: A WARNING!

I only reblog the very best posts from other blogs. Like this one by me!

Twinkies? Mention the word and shudder! This evil of evils – fanciest delight of all the demons in Heaven – is the delicious, addictive, succulent, lengthy treat of all of the evil seven dwarves (Scratchy, Itchy, Sneezy, Poochie, Ginger, Gimli and Papa Dwarf), and Geraldo! Once you eat’em, you can’t leave ’em and they will have you under their spell, bringing you closer and closer to FAT and (later) to FAT INDUCED DEATH, known as OBESENESS and/or BIG-BONEDNEDEDNESS!!!

TWIIINKIIIIEEEESSSS!!!!!!! I AM WARNING YOU ALL! STEER CLEAR AND EAT NOT OF THIS SEXY BOUNTY!

Curses to Hostess, the maker of this, the sweetest of “foods.”

Curse be to he who invented it – General Henry Twinkie!

Curse be to he who gave birth to him and all his descendants!

And even curse be to she who typed his letters – Miss Prue Sharpe!*

Curse be to his horse who gave…

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What is a long awkward pause?

1) My life has just been one long awkward pause. I am forever waiting for the big event or announcement to come on down from the golden sunshine skies saying, “Congratulations, you’re not an idiot.” I am still waiting.

2) When I was a wee chimp (5 years old – that’s 4 years, 11 months old in monkey years) I was in a car accident. An old man was driving his car and not paying attention. He shot through a red light (red means “Stop”) and smashed into me, sitting on the left side back seat of our car. I woke on the side of the road, coughing up blood, my face cut open. The next few weeks were like a long awkward pause as my life settled down again and normalcy returned. Or did it?

3) A month or two later I got encephalytis (that may not be how you spell it but I’m too lazy to look these things up.) If you have never felt as sick as I did then, then you don’t know what it’s like to have all the monkey devil’s play things prick and prod at you with their molten bananas. Lucky you! It was terrible. I don’t want to talk about it. But I will talk about it a little bit. I was vomiting constantly (Martha Stewart may have been on in the background in the hospital). Once my body ran out of stomach contents to purge, it began vomiting bodily fluids. The important ones. Was that how I lost the hearing in my right ear? Or was it the car accident? Who knows but I am deaf in my right ear. The right one, not the left one. It’s deaf. Yell into it if you like. My childhood was filled with long awkward pauses as I missed conversations or comments or requests. People turned on me, thinking I was ignoring them or hated them. I became socially inadequate very quickly and hated talking to people. I still hate haircuts and now Mrs Monkey cuts my hair.*  My social life became and remains a long awkward pause as I wait for the phone to ring or the party invitations to come in the mail. They never come/came/comb. My parents got me hearing aids but I refused to wear them as they make everything you hear sound electronic and I was deathly afraid of being teased.

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4) You know how when you say something funny but no one else thinks it’s funny and there is a long awkward pause? (Sometimes this pause is filled with a wolf howl in the distance – even in Antarctica.) Well I am now one of the handsome and regular (we eat prunes) contributors to the brand spanking new blog Long Awkward Pause!!! (www.longawkwardpause.wordpress.com) CHECK IT OUT!

5) I have long, awkward paws. That must be why bangles look so silly on me.

Amen.

* Note to hairdressers: If you talk to me about stupid things while filling the air with snip-snip noises or clipper whirrs, I WILL NOT HEAR YOU! Don’t hate me, just shaddup!

What if I was you and yous was me?

Okay, so what if I was you and you were me (through some magical transformation a la Freaky Friday) and I learned what it was like – not only to live your life but to have your body (oh baby), and you likewise mine (oooohhhh baby) – would you please remember to put dirty clothes in the laundry basket, not on the floor. There is NO way I am coming back to my body and house and have to clean up after you, ok? Gee!*

*The comments and opinions shared by Monk Monkey do not reflect the opinions or beliefs of Monk Monkey as he is being posessed by a rather anal and pretty annoying bullfrog. Monk Monkey’s soul is currently residing in the back end of a costume horse in a storage facility in Delaware.

Long Awkward Pause – A New Adventure In Blogging

Get on board now because you might forget your ticket at home later and then you will miss out. OK?!

Christopher De Voss

In lieu of reblog Thursday, I have some exciting news.

I’m announcing the birth of a new, exciting, epic, original, ingenious, bold, spicy, operatic, collaborative masterpiece:

Long Awkward Pause!

What is Long Awkward Pause you may ask…and even if you didn’t ask, you may ask after you recover from your excitement over this announcement.

(I will wait until you pick yourself up off the floor, dust your pants off, and compose yourself thus-ly.)

Long Awkward Pause is a humor magazine collaboration between myself, Blurt, B.L.O.G., Monk Monkey, and Ramblings Of An Apathetic Adult Baby. We will take reader submitted topics  and write about them either once or twice a month depending on schedule, earth rotation, Chick-fil-a openings, births, deaths, oil changes, and other such hazards of the blog world.

I’m really excited to work with these guys, and I hope you’ll be just as excited to…

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Boo-hoo wah-wah kiss-kiss hug

It’s been a tough time at the Monkestry, dearest chimps. I go through these valleys and troughs every now and then…actually, pretty regularly…my life stinks, chimps… 😦

There are many reasons why I get down. Most of it can’t really be gone into here and now as it will take another twenty posts to unpack.

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I carry a lot of baggage around with me and have done my entire life, and in the lowest moments I actually feel ready and unafraid of the end (but not wanting to do it myself, don’t worry) I just imagine all my loved ones crying over me and it keeps me going. Why do I feel down so much? Lots of reasons and no reasons, but here are some of the symptoms:
– I’m never happy. Nothing excites me or thrills me. I’m always looking at the bad side. I’m a steady, monotone blah.
– I’m always stressed. I get up at 6, walk to the train, work on the train, work hard all day at at a job that I HATE with people that BOTHER me, before working on the train, walk home, have dinner and bath time with my family (not in unison!) go running, study my online uni course and then go to bed.
– I hate myself. You know, that ugly monkey guy with a face not even a gibbon could love.
– I have no prospects. My job (that I HATE) has no pay rises without a promotion. With my wife Cheetah’s part time wage + my full time one we can’t afford more than one car or to get a mortgage. Cheetah could work more but then Potsie and Bong-Bong would have to do more day care and Cheetah’s wage only covers day care anyway so she might as well stay home and spend time with the boys. This job I have took me two degrees to get and it is making me do another by correspondance for no extra pay and I HATE it and I feel so underpaid! We buy most of our boys’ toys and dvds at charity shops and I haven’t bought new clothes in two years except for one t-shirt and I now have my hair cut at home.
– And I feel lonely. Yes, I have a loving family but we have no friends. No one knocks on the door or calls the phone (except my mum monkey). No one invites us over for dinner or offers to go out with us. Day to day it’s fine but we are all so bored and my poor boys don’t know how to make friends coz I don’t know how to show them. I don’t think I’ve ever been invited to a NYE party or know how to get drunk with the boy monkeys. At work I stay alone and don’t talk to the middle aged ladies I work with (or Desmond). I have no one to debrief with or load stuff onto except for Cheetah who got sick of my sick ages ago.

But then something brightened my day!

One of my very best favourite bloggers named Jen and Tonic wrote this great post. About her current struggles. It made me want to share too (this is what I am doing now) and… To shake off my down-ness and turn that frown upside down!

Let’s get proactive!!!

Monk Monkey’s Eight Step Footpath to Fantasticness!

1) Do your work, get through it, go home, and forget about it! There, you focus on what you love! YOUR FAMILY!

2) If anyone at work pushes your buttons, or angers you, or wants you to raise above your pay level or joy of work quotient, smile, nod, and get home as quick as you can. (see 1) This also applies for family members who criticise your children.

3) If you ever miss those people who have died, hug Cheetah (your wife, not a wild cheetah).

4) Do your best with uni and at the end of the year, put all your notes etc in the bin.

5) Don’t go on Facebook very often. It is full of people being happy and showing their weddings and babies and drunk friends who they love and it depresses you because you aren’t like them.

6) Write a poem, story, etc everyday as you may strike it lucky and get out of your career and make it as an author. Don’t listen to the voices in your head right now that are saying that’s crazy.

7) Don’t listen to the nagging voices in your head.

8) If you ever feel sad, try looking at photos of your family, especially the ones where Potsie and Bong-Bong are smiling.

Very rarely does a human-type person teach the teacher – a monk who is a monkey-person (me)! God bless you Jen (and Tonic) and I hereby award you my inaugural Seal of Approval award!!! Thanks so much!!!!

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I hope I have a good week and you all do too!
Amen.

What happens to all the tweets after you #die?

What will happen
To all the tweets you have
tweeted
After you die?
Will they float or fly
Or just die
Too?
By then you may have tweeted
Six billion times, or more!
Or less, of course,
It depends on how much you have to say.
And some may never tweet again,
For this is their last day.
But whether you will tweet
A lot
Or a little,
Where will all those characters go
Once you go too?

One day,
I hope to return
As a butterfly,
Or stag beetle,
And say to the tweets,
“Where did your authors go?
The ones that once had so much to say?”
And the tweets will reply,
“They all gone. #death”
(They aren’t very good at the English.)
And I will weep and cry,
By and by,
For those poor little tweets
Floating somewhere in the sky.
#Amen

Untitled Magic

Floating on the wind, wind, wind,
Life can be a grind, grind, grind,
Then quicker than the wind, wind, wind,
I realise that I’ve grinned, grinned, grinned.

Everytime I read, read, read,
Getting my brain fed, fed, fed,
I wonder if I read, read, read,
More often than I feed, feed, feed.

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You see what I did there?
LIVE AND LEARN FROM MONK MONKEY!