Confessions of A Naughty Girl

I Blew A Monkey, and Other Tales of Mammalia

I am trying out a new writing style tonight, where everything is logical and tied together. I don't know how successful I will be, considering that I tried to change my annoying laugh senior year of high school and that lasted only three weeks before I reverted back to old ways.

Monkeys.

Aside from being scientifically classified in the Chordata phylum (are you impressed? thank Google), they are absolutely the greatest animals on earth. I have always thought that if I were an animal, I would be a monkey, because not only is my personality monkey-like, and not only was I born in the year of the monkey, but I love bananas and eating that shit and swinging from trees all day is right up my alley.

I blew a monkey today. A vinyl one. We had a going-away party for one of my co-workers, who is admirably and bravely joining the Navy. He leaves in a month to go to flight school in Pensacola to become a fighter pilot, a la Maverick and Goose. The theme of his farewell party was "fighting in the jungle" (which has little relevance to his circumstances, but apparently there was a crapload of jungle-themed paraphernalia at Party City today), and one of the toys was a a large, inflatable vinyl monkey, so naturally, instead of being chosen to decorate, or to play DJ with the CD clock radio, I am given the task of blowing up the monkey. Figures.

The conference room was still being used by some hotshots in account management, so another girl and I stood outside the room, and I started blowing up the monkey. I was hoping to finish before the meeting inside the room adjourned, but lo and behold - as I am grabbing this giant vinyl monkey - one hand on its neck, the other on its ass - with my mouth all over it, a group of executive hotshots walk out of the room. I can only imagine what was going through their hands. No, wait - I don't even want to know.

I listened to iTunes at work today. It was already downloaded onto my computer, and in yet another sweet move on the part of my employer, some of my co-workers have uploaded their libraries onto the network so we can share. I can get into an insane number of personal playlists and just play whoever's music all day long on my computer, which gives me probably access to a lot of music that I don't deserve. So everyday I try someone else's playlist, and some goofy bastard art director had Peter Gabriel's "Shock the Monkey" on their playlist. Has anyone heard this song? It's great. I have always loved this song, but I have no idea what the hell it's about, and I will cut a check to anyone who is willing to explain, but please, check it out. You have to love a song with the lyrics: "Cover me when I run/Cover me through the fire/Something knocked me out' the trees/Now I'm on my knees/Cover me, darling please/Monkey, monkey, monkey/Don't you know when you're going to shock the monkey..."

My new trainer, Barry, looks just like a monkey. He has the big eyes, the scruffy face, and the shorn locks of a true primate. As he was making me do my lunges from one side of the gym to another, I could help but pretend that we were in a jungle and I was lunging from tree to tree. Ass lunges are the equivalent of a trip to the female doctor, so I had to think of something - anything - to take my mind off of it. It certainly helped that Barry, aka Curious George, was there to put me at ease in my fantasy setting.

And to wrap this up, check out this link, which will be sure to shock your monkey by either creeping you out or making you laugh. Seacrest out.

posted by KA @ 11:23 PM