Thursday, March 02, 2006
The Miraculous Renerating MonkeyButt
First, another round of applause (yes, you, I’m looking at you) for Pea and Sawni, and their amazing technical wizardry, for they have not only created this website out of naked pulses of electrical energy, but they did it from 3000 miles apart from each other, and from me, and none of us have ever met, and they still worked together to fulfill my every bloggish dream. Ladies, I don’t just tip my hat to you, I’m tipping my whole head.
NOW. In honor of Zach’s birthday, which is, metaphorically speaking, a mere butthair away, let’s tell the story of a magical visitor to our household, and a special gift he brought to us.
Who doesn’t love monkeys? (I’m not asking you. It’s rhettorical. That means that, frankly, I don’t give a damn.) The point is, I love monkeys and so do all right-thinking folk. That’s why we were so happy when, for xmas, zach got a lovely set of blocks with clear plastic sides and tiny figures inside.
One was a dragon and one was a zebra and there was a whole mess of them, and many of them had tiny moving parts so they could rattle or rotate or some damn thing inside their little blocks. Zach was getting tired when these were unveiled for him, so we all played with them ourselves. And then someone - it might even have been me but I don’t recall - noticed a special feature at the back of the monkey block, and we were agog and delighted, and I immediately swore to share it with the world for surely it was a lucky sign and good omen.
Do you see it? No? No. Neither do I. For when I got back home from the trip to Maryland where we were awarded this amazing gift, the special portentious sign was nary to be seen. NAIRY. I was frustrated and heartbroken, for I did so want to depict it for all you dear friends of the Chucklehut. But clearly, as clearly as a transparent plastic block, I couldn’t find the special feature any more. And lo, it did bum me seriously out.
And then, a month or so later, we were cleaning up the house (that is to say, cleaning it again, because we clean it all the time, we live in a freaking autoclave it’s so goddamn clean here), and Kelly showed me a special amazing miracle that gladdened my heart right up. WE HAD TWO MONKEYBLOCKS.
I guess we’d gotten some of these same sorts of clear plastic toy blocks before we’d gone to Maryland, and I hadn’t really paid them the necessary quantum of attention, and therefore I overlooked the critical fact that we already had one Monkeyblock when we got the special Monkeyblock while on vacation. You get it? I’d been searching the old one for the special feature, and of course I couldn’t find it, because that new monkeyblock was hiding its bad simian self from me and the special feature was thereby shielded from my eyes. But with the revellation that there were two, I could go and reconfirm that we still had the honor of providing residence for:
MONKEYBUTTHAIR!
Do you see it? Do you see that this sealed children’s toy actually has a single, gracefully curving, jet-black hair sticking right out of its brown plastic butt? CAN’T YOU SEE THAT I AM SERIOUS? Or would you like a close-up?
Well there’s your closeup. A genuine whisker on a plastic apecrapper. I am sure it means something good. I mean, when did a giant hair on a monkey’s butt ever mean anything bad? And with that, I leave you to your weekend. I’ve got a Committee meeting most of Friday and I’ll be busting my shavetail on saturday getting ready for the party on sunday. Send me your monkeybutthair photos, and I may tell you how it went.
