Author Archives: Chris B.

A Monkey with no laptop

Big Monkey-1

HELLO: I’m back from my exile. 

Attempt 1

My uncle killed my dad, then sent me off to the neighbouring monkey kingdom to the north of Bali with my best mates as escorts, so the king there would kill me.

But my dad became a ghost and he warned me my friends wanted my new Nintendo when I died. So I took off and when I grew up I returned to my kingdom, and that’s when I found out my uncle married my mum.

So anyway. That’s why I couldn’t talk to you. That’s why I haven’t been updating my blog. I’m sorry, okay.

Alright, you got me, I’m full of lies. I’m just copying the plot of Hamlet Lion King.


Attempt 2

An enemy long banished invaded my peaceful kingdom, so the monkey princess and I went to take him down. Except the enemy nearly killed me. The monkey princess had to put me in a magical spell of recovery, which I remained in for two years. When I woke up the enemy had won, my kingdom in ruins, but at least the nearby resort had wi fi. I’ve tried to tell you as soon as I could.

Alright. I better tell you the truth now.

Attempt 3

My dad had his head chopped off, my brothers were banished and killed, my sisters forced into marriage. I escaped my kingdom in disguise to learn under the Many Faced Monkey God. And I became an assassin monkey. A Monkey With No Name. A Monkey With No Laptop.

Attempt 4

I was locked in a monkey prison which was basically a giant well. It was so dark that I learned to see without the light. And even though it had no roof! The roof wasn’t there so it would torment us by giving us fresh air and blue sky each day. When we got bored of the jail we would just climb out.

I couldn’t climb out because the guards who threw me in the prison broke my back. I stayed until I watched everything on Netflix, and then I fixed my back by tying my body together with rope, and then I got the hell out of there for a pack of smokes.

Attempt 5

Got caught by the Taliban and hidden in their caves so I could make them weapons that have protected my monkey kingdom for centuries. But I wasn’t giving them anything, so to spite them I created an entirely new weapon with my limited resources and while they watched me carefully as their prisoner. I created a friggin giant robot monkey with friggin laser beams.

It took ages to get out but now I’m here and apologetic that I haven’t posted on my blog so long.

Attempt 6 

I’ve been busy at work and I guess I thought this blog topic was dumb. So I ignored it and focused on binge drinking at the local clubs while pretending to work on my book and getting desperate and depressed at the end of each weekend when I somehow came through writing nothing new or creative. Then I got a girlfriend but truth was long before her I forgot that my monkey kingdom existed.

Yeah, sorry, this is total bullcrap. Even less convincing than the previous one. I’ll try again. I’ll give honesty a go.

Attempt 7


Attempt 8

One of the monkeys created the most purest, clearest form of pina colata you’ve ever tried. So we tried selling it to tourists and long story short; the monkey and I made a lot of good mates.

We had a lot of laughs, these mates and us. But after a game of Cards Against Monkeys that went horribly wrong, after a tasteless combo of cards involving the Crocodile Hunter, I decided these mates were total dicks. I tried cutting them out of the pina colata game, but they weren’t having any of it.

Anyway, I know it’s the same long story that should be short but is still kind of rambling and pointless, but cutting a heap more out of it, then I enlisted a neo-Winged Monkeys group to kill my mates who were total dicks. And the Winged Monkeys wanted my pina colatas so chained me up behind their bar in Ubud, and I wasn’t allowed internet.

So one of these attempts is the truth. But you’ll never know which. Sometimes people don’t deserve the boring truth. They are too nice to be pushed that sort of dribble. Sometimes they deserve entertaining plagiarism.


Categories: Humor | Leave a comment

Monkey King’s Click Bait: 6 Habits of Success

I DON’T want to talk about prison. I don’t want to talk about unfair childhoods. I don’t want to talk about drop bears or even boxing monkeys in cage fights. Maybe next time.

This time it is success.

In my duties as a Monkey King I have associated with people I define as successful. And they seem to have these habits in common.

Also. It’s seven habits. The headline lied.

1) Binge video gaming.

Sure, it seems like I’m taking the piss, but there are people who know how to switch off and take a sickie to play the new Batman game.

If you haven’t humiliated your friends in a Mario Kart race, run across Skyrim as a werewolf or possessed a rat in Dishonored, then what are you doing with your life?

2) Being a Yes Man.

People who always agree with what their boss says and then bitch about the decisions later in a bar somewhere are always successful. A boss who has risen to a high position, hardened up, spent their time reading Linked-In articles about truly developing by accepting criticism, growth, guts and commitment always admires a minion.

3) Not even trying to remember names

Ah ha. Now I must be taking the piss. Not really. Why waste time remember names in the age of information when your colleagues all have digital signatures. After all, names belong to faces. Faces change. They age, change their eye color, and it’s hard to identify same faces in new clothing. Why try!

Save your mental energy for remembering the best Game of Thrones characters. May they rest in peace.

4) Travelling

Travel to work. Travel home from work.

Nah. That’s sad. People with successful jobs travel on airplanes on the company dollar and stay in motels for days at a time.

I had eight or nine beers at the races once and ended up driving the boss’s car to take some brewers to a pub. One of the guys told me he used to work for Bacardi. “It was an awesome job, it paid well,” he said. “But I quit because I was sick of travelling overseas. Rio is alright though.”

My point is this man was a success because he resented success. See what I’m saying? I think I might.

5) Having a hobby which everybody in your community knows about.

Bankers and accountants have cycling. The boss has Rotary. The police sergeant has fishing. The lawyer has professional drinking. The teacher has marking tests – because they seem to love doing that at home. The mine’s general manager has steer wrestling. Politicians have discreet nightclubs.

These people would normally be judged for the crappy or mean decisions at work. But because the community knows they have a hobby, they are considered real people.

What do you have? Netflix? Sure, that’s cool, but judgement from your work position is still going to weigh you down.

6) Getting distracted for something more interesting

I was planning on reading The Shining tonight. You’re reading this! See! I’m being productive. We can open this to debate.

7) Taking advice from websites, blogs, anybody really

If advice makes sense, sounds good, you like what you read and it already fits into your original pattern of behavior, then surely it’s going to change your life!

Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , | 2 Comments

The Birthday Dirk

IT’S my birthday so I’m allowed paper and crayon to send one message to the outside world.

I’m in Monkey Prison.

It is horrible here. I wake on my 25th birthday and I’m tied up and hanging upside down as monkeys shriek “it’s your birthday it’s your birthday it’s your birthday! Pinata Pinata Pinata!”

So much different from my 24th birthday bash. Back when I was the Monkey King.

I only get one present today. It’s from my friend Cujo, and he gives me The Birthday Dirk.

“Ooh, what’s this?” I said, groping in the dark for what my monkey friend hands me.

“It’s a dirk.”

It turns out there is a tradition in the Monkey Prison. We have no weapons except the Birthday Dirk. You only are allowed to wield it if it’s your birthday. And on your birthday you can attack anybody you want with it and nobody will stop you. If it’s not your birthday and you hold it, everybody will beat you up. You get to hold it until it’s someone else’s birthday and then you pass it on.

I decide not to stab anybody today.


Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , , , | 1 Comment

Monkey Prison

YOU’VE probably assumed I’m dead in Bali somewhere. Probably when Mojo posted Death to the Monkey King so you’d forget about me.

I have a highlighter and a square of toilet paper, so I’ve little space to write. I’m exiled in Monkey Prison. Yeah, it exists. It’s like Monkey Hell but without the sulfuric acid. We have knife fights and the guards bet on the winner. We live in a pit underneath a tree. There is a window at the top of the pit, between the roots of the tree, and some of the brave monkeys climb up the pit to escape.

“MATI APAAN KEPALA!!!” we scream and chant from the bottom of the pit as we watch the monkey climb. “MATI APAAN KEPALA!”  when the monkey inevitably falls and dies.

Dark Knight Rises

The sunlight shines down. It gives us hope to mess with our minds.

Apparently that’s what it does, but actually, I appreciate the sunlight. Every little thing is a blessing.

I have become a new person. A little more spiritual, a little more humble. When I was Monkey King I wanted something every day. It was a new throne room, a slippery slide down the tree, monkeys to die for my amusement, Bitey the white tiger to stop biting. And when they exiled me by throwing me in a hole in a Borneo rainforest, all I wanted was freedom.

But now I’m not bothered. What would I do with freedom? I would waste it. Now I wait in this slag heap in the bottom pit of the tunnel.

The entrance into the prison. They throw you in and leave you to die.

The entrance into the prison. They throw you in and leave you to die.


The first few months the monkeys beat and broke me. I crawled down in the far caverns to hide where the worst of the chimps stayed, because most of the monkeys avoided the place. It was dark and muddy, but I healed from my injuries.

Last week one of the larger chimps we avoided came to me. I thought it was going to stab me with the knife it was holding. “Are you the Monkey King?” it asked, and before I said yes it handed me the muddy piece of toilet paper. “Your manifesto changed my life. I was full of resentment for the humans – and my hate led me in here – but your 300 page essay changed my life, it taught me to transcend beyond hate. I owe you everything I became.”

The chimpanzee’s name is Cujo, and he has promised a way to get my message of hope to the outside world.

I promise to escape this prison, defeat the monkey who stripped me from the throne, and regain my title of Monkey King. Don’t delete this blog just yet.

Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

(part 2) Six ways to reject an infatuated monkey

IN THE previous post I mentioned that a monkey called Scar-Face proposed to me, and is expecting me to give my answer this week. She has threatened me with physical abuse if I break her heart.


You know, this whole thing is absurd. I don’t want to marry her. Even though she is sort of nice. Look at her! But I also don’t want to get beaten up. So, I have six ways to tell a crazy monkey that I’m just not into her, with estimated percentages of success :

1)      It’s not you. It’s me!  44%

How you would probably go about it: “You’re a beautiful monkey, with a scar that has disfigured your face so that you have three nostrils, but it’s just not the right time for me! Even though my advisor wants me to get married, and even though I have no heirs… Please, stop stabbing me!”

2)      We’re not the same species!  78% before Avatar came out, currently 34%

An obvious but popular favourite. The problem is, is that I’m king of the monkeys. I’ve sort of been adopted into the tribe, and I can’t use “I’m a different species” to escape the advances of suitors. Also, I complained to Abu that I couldn’t date a monkey. And he said; “Haven’t you seen Avatar? Where Sam Worthington becomes a big blue alien and gets to have a hot blue chick princess if he so wishes?”

Damn you Hollywood! You’ve made it socially acceptable to marry a monkey. Don’t you have any morals whatsoever?

3)      I’m scared of intimacy!  12%

Oh yeah? And what if she says, “I’m sorry  I’m so insensitive,” and cracks onto me even worse! The last thing anyone needs to see is a sleazy monkey in lingerie touching people in inappropriate places, like on the knee! No. NO! NOOOOOOO! I won’t even chance it.

4)      You deserve so much better! 65%

How you would probably go about it: “I don’t know your real name, so I call you “Scar Face.” So I think I’d make a bad husband. But I’ll still make a good king – ruling over hundreds of your fellow monkeys.”

5)      I’m just not attracted to you. 80%

How you would probably go about it: “You’re ugly. Really ugly. Your face looks like a Mr Potato Head. You have so much fur I don’t even know if you have a belly button. You need to lose weight. You need to be a lot taller. I’m pleased you wear make-up, but it’s the same lot dabbed on from that visit to the animal testing facility. I might get over these issues if you were from Texas. I’ve always wanted to go out with a girl from Texas.  Are you from Texas? Didn’t think so.”

6)      I’m saving myself for someone from Texas 0.5%

No offence.

What would YOU choose?

Categories: Humor, Romance | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Six ways to reject someone who is in love with you

So let me just write a few lines on here so that the “good stuff” isn’t shown on my Twitter and Facebook links. Blah blah blah.

Blah blah blah.

Okay, now I can tell you I sort of lied. This is titled Six Ways to Reject Someone Who Is In Love With You. And while that’s true, I’m talking specifically about a sleazy monkey I call Scar-Face.

Wait! Don’t go. The six ways can apply to humans too! Let me just pop on the music for the atmosphere.

See, I’m the Monkey King. I’m kinda a big deal in the monkey forest. Some monkey ladies are attracted to my glamour or title or charisma or whatever the hell this is.


Damn. Wrong picture. Disregard it.

This was the one I meant to post.

Monkey king animation pic

Now where was I? Oh yeah, monkey ladies.

See, the most aggressive monkey who competes for my affections is a monkey I call “Scar-Face.” She has probably been on steroids and resembles a Mr Potato Head. What you assume to be her eye is actually an ear.

Anyway, on Friday morning she arrived at my throne room, delivering 12 roses before she kissed my feet. “Happy Valentines Day, M’ Lord. Will you marry me?” she asked.

“I thought you were already married to Rafiki?” I said.

“You’re thinking of Rhonda. My sister. I still available though. Give answer next week. Rude to keep a lady waiting.”

So anyway,  I have to tell Scar Face she’s ugly without hurting her feelings. If I hurt her feelings in any way, she will kick me out the tree, tie me upside down from a power line, and whack me with sticks. Well, that’s what she told me she would do.

So I have six suggestions of how I can tell a crazy monkey lady that I’m just not into her, with an estimated percentage of success.

And that will be on the next post (sorry!).

Categories: Humor, Romance | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Rabies from Scar-face

I’M SICK of being propositioned by suitors. In an effort to get me hitched, Jo-Jo (my Monkey’s Paw) has been encouraging  the many suitors to advance upon me. They would try to get to me at night if I hadn’t thought of fixing the walls and padlocking the doors of a local trader’s back shed in which I am currently residing in.

The most aggressive of them is a woman monkey I call “Scar-face”. She’s a bit suggestive.

"Hey beautiful"

“Hey beautiful”

I’m too scared to talk to her, and it’s not because I care what she thinks. Yesterday, Scar-face told me she had rabies, bit me on the neck, and offered out some sort of syringe which she said I needed to take as soon as possible if I didn’t want to die a most painful death.

“I’ll give it to you,” she tittered. “But you have to put a ring on it first.”

“I think we’re done here,” I said, climbing to the top of a tree and waiting for the first signs of madness. Or whatever symptoms humans get for rabies.

I’m not mad yet! And maybe I can fight the madness away by shrieking at the top of my lungs.

“Hey beautiful”
Categories: Animation, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Where I lay myself to sleep

WE ARE still building a throne room, and a slide, and a tree house. I have explained this here. What I haven’t told you is what I do to go to sleep at night.

Sometimes I sleep at the top of the tree. I huddle in a group of monkeys when they are feeling sweet and not particularly violent. But a few days ago a local vendor offered me his old shed at the edge of the forest.

DSC_0268 (2)


I stay in there and sleep on a little mattress. I haven’t told the monkeys where I go to sleep because sometimes you just need a nice nap without your hair being ransacked for bugs.

It does get lonely sometimes. There is a torch I use if I can’t sleep. I read a book  and then I think about how lonely I am. Then I promise myself to cut down on the alcohol because it makes me feel sad.

But the next morning I’m back with the monkeys and I’m happy again and we party on.



Categories: Humor, Renovations | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Celebrating International Mate Day

YESTERDAY Garrett the drop bear started crying while singing a variety of songs like Walzing Matilda and Down Under.

“What’s wrong Garrett?” I asked.

“It’s Australia Day, and I’m not there for it!” he said. Too right! How could I have forgotten!

My exaggerated accent returned. “Fair dinkum,” I said, “Too right ay?” and Mojo asked me why my voice went nasally. He handed me some cold and flu tablets.

That might help your blocked nose, Mojo said.

You beauty, Mojo!

Garrett was right. It was Australia Day, and it seems wrong for both Garrett and I that our feet aren’t on the rich red soil of our land, eating sausages and drinking beers and painting our faces and waving Aussie flags with kangaroos wearing punching gloves.

kangaroo flag

Or getting into a punch up at the beach after debating whether we call particular footwear “thongs” or “pluggers.”


Mojo laughed when Garrett and I told the others how to celebrate. “But thongs are ladies underwear.”

Shut your bloody mouth, Mojo!

So we decided to make a day of it to cheer up Garrett. But instead of making it exclusive by calling it Australia Day, we decided to share our love to all the Balinese by substituting it to International Mate Day. Sometimes our politicians between the countries fight and squabble with their little power trips and ego. And maybe we need to use our national holidays to embrace our similarities than to use it to encourage xenophobia. The Monkey King has spoken!

All the monkeys ran around trying to get everything ready for International Mate Day. Garrett stopped crying. He started singing a song I’d never heard of before, by an Australian band named Gyroscope. Chompy heard him and joined in, with his acoustic guitar. 

Some of the little monkeys found some paint and drew on our white tiger, Bitey. They painted his whiskers gold and splattered stars all over his body. He kept trying to lick the paint off and then they would draw them on again.

Mojo went to the shops and came back with some shrimp. “Now lets put these shrimp on the barbie!” he said with a wide grin.

Don’t worry, I made him take the shrimp back. He returned with a box of sausages. “Snags,” I reminded him. “We call them snags” And my little disciple said “you beaut! Mate, lets eat these snags!”

I told him we didn’t eat snags when they were raw. Fortunately, Abu and Timmy had been working on making some sort of barbecue (“barbie”) from all the spare scraps of tin they could find across town. Jo-Jo cleaned the grill and then we lit the fire and put the “snags” on.  The other monkeys, led by Benji, went to the nearby safari zone to borrow some kangaroos.

They had to drag a pair of kangaroos back in dog collars but when the kangaroos saw what we were trying to do, they were delighted to get involved. We couldn’t find some gloves but they had an exhibition match anyway in the middle of the courtyard. The monkeys and the local Balinese men – who raced down when they learnt what was happening – took bets on the winner. As the “barbie” caught on fire,  I wondered what sort of monstrosity we had turned Australia Day into.

“Yeah, I don’t feel it either,” Garrett said. “I think the secret to Australia Day is not giving a damn about it. And we tried too hard.” Then he handed me a pair of thongs. “Happy Australia Day, mate.” I put them  on my feet and I thanked him for the thongs.

“Thongs! They are pluggers!” he said, and he tackled me in the creek when I argued with him. “They are thongs!” I screamed, and the kangaroos jumped into the water.

“Ay, break it up!” the kangaroos said, holding both of us back from each other. “It’s not worth it, ay.”

“Snags are ready, get em while they’re greasy,” Mojo shouted.

Categories: holiday, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Magic faraway lands

THE monkeys have lately been preparing for Tree Force, a renovation show in which the monkeys must build us a tree house.

They’ve been showing me the plans.

My throne room will be inside the trunk of the tree. I will sit my arse on the finest red cushions. Some of the fools brought up maroon ones, and so they lost points at the end of the episode. The video camera even showed me with a frowning face to prove I was unhappy.

The throne will have lots of swords sticking out of it, so that it’s spiky. I’ve been told by the King’s hand, Jo-Jo, that swords decorating a throne is the in thing this season. But we’ll soften the ends by sticking on marshmellows and bananas.

This will serve two reasons. First, being king is hungry work. And second, sharp edges and monkeys will cause the workplace health and safety lady to faint out of the tree and onto the concrete path below (oh, what’s that? The concrete is a hazard?! We’ll have to move the trees away from the path? Damn you. Has this world of workplace health gone completely mad?).

There will be a slide, spiralling down the inside of the tree. I am insistent on this. The monkeys are working on the tunnel now, but seem to be using the pickaxes on each other more than on the wood. I am also making the monkeys build a giant ladder that will stretch above the clouds, which every dumb monkey knows summons magic faraway lands.

tree house drawing

Categories: Renovations, television shows | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

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