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.”

thongs

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.

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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

Tree Force

AFTER spending a few weeks with Dad and six monkeys in a fancy villa for Christmas holidays, I’m finally back in the monkey forest. Dad dropped us off at the forest gates this morning and threw each monkey out individually.

“You have all been horrible,” he said to us as he rubbed Mojo’s bite mark on his forearm. “Good riddance,” he said as he slammed the door. The car screeched away.

Rafiki started crying. This was surprising. He puts on such an arrogant persona, hates everyone, that I hadn’t noticed until then that he almost worshiped my dad. Later, I heard him mutter that my dad should be the king, not me.

I was relaxing in my favourite tree after ordering one of the monkeys to bring me an ice tea, when Gina climbed up the ladder. She didn’t look happy to be in the forest. But her boss had ordered her to come and tell me in person – because I smashed my phone after Gina and I used Bitstrip photos to argue – that the television executives were hoping to use the monkeys for another television show. A BETTER television show than the last one, which is a relief because Big Monkey was a terrible idea.

This show will be called Tree Force.

So right now the monkeys are being taught by professional renovators the basics how to build and renovate. The idea is that the monkeys will work together in pairs to build rooms around the tree while they bicker and squabble and use power tools to hurt each other (which apparently makes good TV).  Supposedly, in four weeks we’ll have a super tree house.

Maybe like this!

images.businessweek.com

images.businessweek.com

But I have my doubts.

Have the producers forgotten these are just damn monkeys? What madness is this? Monkeys can’t build tree houses. I wouldn’t even trust the monkeys with a hammer.

At the moment Mojo is at the foot of the tree, working on the front porch. I just hope he knows what he’s doing with that chainsaw.

Categories: Humor, television shows | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Cooking with MK: Potato chip sandwiches

Cooking is an important art, lost to this day and age. Our parents have had better things to do than teach us to prepare foods. Tragically, much has been lost.

However, cheer up, because today I will teach you how to prepare potato chip sandwiches. Or as is known in okay-Britain…crisp sandwiches. Yummy!

It’s a perfect recipe for beginners.

Chip sandwiches

(serves 2, or one greedy person). You will need:

X4 slices of white bread

X1 tub of margarine (I prefer Nuttalex but it doesn’t really matter)

X1 packet of Pringles chips (it doesn’t matter which flavouring, but I recommend salt and vinegar as it really fuses with the bread and margarine flavours)

Some sweet chilli sauce. OR barbeque sauce. (note: to alter your experience, experience by adding other condiments and dishes)

Taken from wikihow.com

Taken from wikihow.com

Preparation time: 10 minutes. Maybe five, but it does depend on how efficient you are. I have known people complete a sandwich in three minutes but these are expert chefs.

1)      Butter your bread. Spread the margarine on generously

2)      Layer the chips onto the bread. To make it easier in step 4, I suggest you only put the chips on half the slices of bread.

3)      Squirt on the sauce

4)      Combine two pieces of bread together so that the buttered sides are in the middle.

5)      Oh, you probably should put it on a plate. If you’re fancy, you might cut the sandwich in half but it can be difficult as it may scatter the chips.

6)      Enjoy! The most important step of all

 Reviews:

Mojo: “You make it look devilishly simple. Cheers, big ears!” 4 stars

Rafiki: “Cooking with Monkey King? Cooking? You have just taken a simple snack we know of, and then wasted all our time describing how to do it in detail. Consider yourself un-followed.” 1.5 star

Gordon Ramsay: “I wish you’d jump in the oven. That would make my life easier.” No stars provided (I interpret the comment to mean this infamous chef is intimidated that I might be in business).

Anyway, here’s a cute monkey picture I took just to fill up the picture quota.

DSC_0886_edited-web

Categories: Animal photography, Food, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Another stupid D&M post about having a reflective New Years

I haven’t engaged with the blogosphere much in the last two weeks. There are many reasons and excuses, but mainly I didn’t want to write while I’ve been trying to escape a hardcore hangover.

I’m sort of seeing the light of day now. I’m leaving the bedroom before 4pm now.

Fake drunk Chris

Also, I’ve set a goal to finish the first draft of my novel by New Years Eve. It’s achievable, but time consuming. I’ve been working on it since last October. 14 months and I’ve just hit 120,000 words. I don’t brag about word length anymore. It’s juvenile and who gives when most of it isn’t a good combination of words. Word length says absolutely nothing about word quality. It just means more to edit, and I don’t look forward to doing the rewrite.

How come you’ve never heard about my novel before? I’ve been embarrassed to talk about it. The monkeys laugh at me and I didn’t want humans to do the same thing.

What do Monkey Kings write books about? Well, I don’t know about other monkey kings, but the novel is a supernatural murder mystery, drama, and school yard romance. There are no monkeys in it, but in the first draft the main character might release a poisonous snake in his English class to get out of his oral presentation. I’m still tweaking the label but I have plenty of time before I’m ready for an agent.

But I didn’t really write this post to talk about my book. I came on here to procrastinate writing the last scene. It’s a scene set years later from the rest of the book. All grown up, like in Harry Potter. It’s necessary to have this scene because without it, the ending is too savage, abrupt and dark to be popular. Now it will be a wistful and bittersweet ending.

Actually, I want to write about what New Years means to me and maybe even to you. For sure, the meanings of holidays have changed. Christmas has shifted from celebrating the birth of Jesus to simply enjoying life with friends and family (debatable) and if you listen to the monkeys opinions, living the teachings of the Black Eyed Peas.

The meanings for New Years Eve and Day have also changed.

Because really, it’s a time to reflect what we want out of the next year, and to evaluate whether we need to change our plans from the following year. In this fast paced time of consumerism, it has become harder to take time to be still. To pause and to reflect. One of the only times we really do this naturally is during these two days.

I want to quote part of Queen Elizabeth’s 2013 Christmas speech.

“We all need to get the balance right between action and reflection. With so many distractions, it is easy to forget to pause and take stock. Be it through contemplation, prayer, or even keeping a diary, many have found the practice of quiet personal reflection surprisingly rewarding, even discovering greater spiritual depth to their lives.”

At the risk of having already sounded a little preachy and a little pro-establishment, the Monkey King thinks she has got it right. Hear, hear, Queen Elizabeth! We Monarchs sometimes say some wise things.

While at some point I want to make a more elaborate list of New Years resolutions filled with silliness and good humour, I want to give you some earnest and genuine points I wish to achieve in this post, especially relating to All Hail the Monkey King.

We reached about 2000 views and 130 followers in the seven months since this blog began. We could have had more but I didn’t want to follow a heap of blogs and then not read them. I wanted to read all the blogs I followed, get used to doing so, and then add some more blogs to actively engage with. It’s proving to be a challenge.

Three blog posts a week has also been difficult, and disheartening. Certainly, I have had a small group of loyal and engaged readers who understand what I am trying to do. And this is to make a unique, fun and creative fictional blog that almost takes the piss of the current main blog genres. Commentators, you are the reason I am continuing to write this. However, I haven’t had as much time to spend on each blog post, and the quality of grammar has dropped.

While I listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Tuesday’s Gone” on Spotify in a Starbucks café overlooking a temple lilypond, I am promising you (the reader) that I will be cutting down to one post a week. I will also be focusing on other aspects in my life, such as seeking employment in Bali, and at least dating a few times without being stupid about it.

The Monkey King isn’t saying that he’s going to go tame, not at all, but he does need to spend less time obsessing on the internet.

Now with the risk of getting a bit soppy and awkward, I love you all, especially my engaged readers. This isn’t a goodbye, only a written renewal of some form of friendship we have made the last seven months.

Here’s to sharing our lives with complete strangers for another year.

XOXO

Categories: Humor, Philosophy | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

What monkeys believe is the meaning of Christmas

WHILE Dad visits the fancy resort’s golf course, the monkeys I smuggled into the boot of our driver’s car chill out by the pool with me. We have interesting conversations over Bintang, like about Nelson Mandela, and what Christmas is about.

Since the monkeys have not celebrated Christmas before, and considering they live on an island of Hindus, their perspectives are interesting…and laughable. It’s like asking children where they think babies come from.

Here are six views about what Christmas is about. They cover religion, materialism, music, and family:

MOJO:Everyone knows that Christmas is a religious ceremony. Shrines dedicated to Santa are installed in the shopping temples. Ceremonies involve proud parents bringing their children to Santa’s altar, where he then judges to see if they have been naughty and nice.  He determines this by testing the children with this question; “and what would you like for Christmas?”

It is usually customary for Santa to return the children. Though I believe there have been cases where some children who ask for nuclear weapons or roofies are smuggled into a sack where they are never seen again.

rocket launcher kid

RAFIKI: Christmas is celebrated by Christians. They received gifts like tan lotion and bikinis and strut on beaches in the near nude and practice their infidelity.

(he didn’t exactly say it like that, but I hate Rafiki, and I want everybody else to hate him too)

cover-universe.com

cover-universe.com

ABU: Christmas is about presents!

The idea is based off an ancient teaching that it is better to give than it is to receive.

But I don’t think people are practicing to receive well enough. I’ve observed many receipients who get an unexpected present and say “you shouldn’t have!” like the person who gave it to them was improper to think of them. Others groan and look unhappy and say “This DVD has the wrong region code. It’s useless!”

Smile! Cause people love you so much that they feel obliged to give you stuff.

From craftinsurance.com

From craftinsurance.com

Simeon: Let’s break it down. What’s Christmas about? Um…Jesus?

What’s Jesus about? Um…love?

So that means Christmas is about love, right.

But where is the love? I don’t see it. Cause people are living like they ain’t got no mommas. Only attracted to things that bring the drama.

In conclusion, Christmas is about living through the teachings of the Black Eyed Peas.

From hpmusic.net

From hpmusic.net

JO-JO: Christmas is about having fun with the family.

Get them drunk. Stay back and enjoy the chaos. It’s magical.

From refinery29.com

From refinery29.com

CAZZA: Christmas is about…um…singing Christmas carols? My favourite is little drummer boy. Come they told me, rum pum pum, pum.

I like that song because the drummer boy is broke and destitute, and I’m pretty sure he’s a meth addict (read between the lines). And he doesn’t have anything to give baby king Wenceslas, who is prophesised to be the greatest king in history.

But the drummer boy realises that he can worship to his king through his ability to drum to Megadeth. In fact, I believe drummer boy’s real name is Joey Kramer, who played for Aerosmith.

From drummerworld.com

From drummerworld.com

Categories: Christmas, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Borneo, oh Borneo

THE best thing about Facebook is you get to know who travels and what sort of photographs they take. When I noticed that my friend Chelsea was visiting Borneo, I asked if I could use some her photographs for this blog.

Photographs copyrighted to Chelsea Suzanne Photography.

Chelsea Suzanne Photography

Proboscis!

Chelsea Suzanne Photography

So cute! I want one. How come I look after the ugly monkeys?

Chelsea Suzanne Photography

Acting suss.

Chelsea Suzanne Photography

Poignant.

Chelsea Suzanne Photography

And last of all…

Chelsea Suzanne Photography

Have a good day, and a Merry Christmas from the Monkey King.

Categories: Animal photography | Tags: , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Monkey King’s daddy issues

SURE, you would think my parents could just be proud of me being a Monkey King. But they aren’t.

Dad warned me he was coming to visit me in Bali for Christmas. He was going to stay at some five star resort almost an hour out of Ubud and I wasn’t expecting to see him until tomorrow.

Except he walked into the forest. I saw him coming into the forest with a bewildered expression. I screamed “Nooo!” when I saw Mojo offer him candy (Dad didn’t want that candy, believe me).

Dad watched me disgustedly as I climbed down the tree. Examined my long hair and split ends. “Get a shirt on!” he said, wrinkling his nose. It is the first thing he has said to me in two years. He has never forgiven me for failing my Bachelor of Law. (read more about dad here). I remembered then I hadn’t had a shower since the day before yesterday. The humidity really does get to you as  well. I felt sticky and exhausted.

Davie-sketch-web-quality

He said he wasn’t going to take me to stay at a fancy resort looking how I was.

“Good, I’m staying here with my monkeys,” I said, and then he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the forest. The monkeys howled and chased us and before you know it they had grabbed my dad and were tugging him in eight or nine different directions.

“Stop!” I said as dad screamed “my arms! My arms!”

“Let’s go away and have some family time without the monkeys,” dad said, and got up, dusting himself. He yelled angrily as he popped his arm socked back in. “I just haven’t got anyone to spend Christmas with, except you.” He looked so desperate and made me feel so guilty.

“Alright, I’ll go with you,” I said. “Let me get some gear together.”

Dad walked to the car he hired and slid into the back seat. I told the monkeys they had to stay as I dragged a satchel of possessions into the boot. The driver got out of his seat to help me. I gave him money and he grinned and winked when six of the monkeys smuggled themselves in with the bag.

We shut the door and drove away. Dad didn’t even look at me when we were in the car. He was on his mobile phone. When I heard the monkeys make noises in the boot, screaming at each other that they were cheating at the monopoly game they were playing, I would clap or kick at the floor or fake cough. Dad would yell louder into the phone every time I would make these sounds.

Yeah, happy Christmas! I just wanted to be with the monkeys for Christmas and to teach them about this holiday.

Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Letter from Inuka the polar bear

I had hoped that the Bundy Rum bear would visit Ubud to celebrate my 24th birthday with me. Despite all the letters I sent out, I never heard back from him. It was my birthday earlier this week, and he wasn’t there. So I proclaimed he would be an enemy of the kingdom.

But last night I received a lengthy comment on my WordPress account, that I wish to share:

DEAR MONKEY KING

I hear that it is your b’day. Happy 24th, you crazy old bugger!

I am not the Bundy Rum bear, though for you I wish I could be. In fact, I’m not even sure he really exists. Like any minority, polar bears all know each other. Besides, a free polar bear giving out alcohol seems a little too good to be true.

My name is Inuka, and I am a star attraction at the world famous Singapore Zoo.

DSC_0127_edited-1

I have heard tales of your exploits. Some of the birds (mainly the charitable and religious hornbulls) sneak out of their cages at night and tell tales to the isolated exhibits (like me!). They are the zoo’s grapevine, a way for us all to connect (who needs the local cafe, am I right?). They usually get the stories about you from the monkeys…and who knows where they get them from. Rumour has it that BJ (a proboscis monkey) owns a T-shirt with a printing of you on it. Tell me, are you in the band The Doors, or am I thinking of someone else?

Jim Morrison

Is it true you took out a bunch of lesbian vampires living in Ubud? And that you all had a good time at the Boom Boom Bar? And that you also rose from the dead to seek revenge on your killers? And that you escaped a deserted island by riding on sea turtles?

I wish I could come to Bali and be a part of these adventures. But it would be too hot and expensive to my kind keepers. Instead, I will ask the birds to pass this long message to an animal that can write it down. I believe the orangutans have internet privileges and can find your blog.

I also wish I could wear shining armor so you could ride me into battle. We’d make a ferocious sight! You’d chop enemies with your sword, and I’ll chomp off their head.

Taken from Celwalls.com

Taken from Celwalls.com

Even though life forces us behind barriers that we can never break through, may we never stop believing that we can follow our far-fetched ideas.

Keep living the dream!

Inuka, XOX

Categories: Humor, letter | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Bitstrip War’s final battle: Even Monkey Kings can be losers

THERE’S this girl called Gina. She’s a TV presenter. She’s hot. I don’t think I’ve mentioned her before.

Regular viewers of my blog might be rolling their eyes right now saying “dude!”

Anyway, for a while she was disinterested and tried to ignore me as much as possible. And then we became…well…frenemies by insulting each other through Bitstrip photos. I liked to call the battles The Bitstrip Wars.

I was the happiest I had ever been in my life. Surrounded by the monkeys I cared for in the heart of Bali, and insulting the girl I had the hots for.

But then I got into huge trouble when I sent this photo:

BitstripwithGina7

After a few days of silence – making me sweat my body weight mind you – she sent through a Facebook message.

GINA: You’re right, that is horribly inappropriate! Are you crazy? My fiance checks my Facebook page. He doesn’t want us to be friends anymore. He thinks you like me.

MONKEY KING: Oh Boo hoo! That’s nothing if you snapchatted with me.

GINA: I don’t think I ever want to.

MONKEY KING: You’re a strong, fierce, independent woman. Be friends with whoever you want to be friends with.

GINA: Stop being a patronising jerk. And no more naked photos! Or that’s it.

MONKEY KING: Only if YOU stop sending me naked photos. Chompy finds them a little arousing.

So then she sent me another Bitstrip photo. Except this photo was different. Before, it was harmless sexual innuendo, pen dropping and teasing.

Bitstrip with Gina9

MONKEY KING: Wow, just a little hurtful, Gina.

GINA: What? That’s hurtful?

MONKEY KING: Yes, I’m…hurt…Gina. I thought we had something going.

GINA: Oh shut up.

MONKEY KING: Ooh, getting angry, are you Gina?

GINA: You really piss me off. Die, you creepy jungle sleaze!

So…ignoring the danger signs that suggested the subtle danger signs had gone from “Irritated” to “Anger” to “Hate”, I posted another Bitstrip to ease the tension.

As you do.

Bitstrip with Gina10

GINA: Ha ha ha. Comparing me to Jack Nicholson? Oh honey. Is that the best you’ve got?

Bitstrip with Gina11

You would be surprised how many people have called me “crazy” or a stoner  or “heavily medicated” or like Brad Pitt’s character in 12 Monkeys (love that movie!!!).

After a while you get weary of the judgement. I know I was being a bit sensitive, and was letting Gina wind me up too easily.

So I got a bit carried away, trying to make a joke.

It’s a defence mechanism.

Bitstrip with Gina12.2

And it’s been half a week, and there was no sign of what she thought of my “proposal” until this morning, when I noticed she unfriended me on Facebook.

The Bitstrip Wars were over. And I was left with a sour taste and a broken phone (because I threw it at the ground), realising an important lesson: that maybe in war, there are no winners.

Even Monkey Kings can be losers.

Categories: Humor, Romance | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

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