Posts Tagged With: Humor

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!

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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.

Irony.

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

Death to the Monkey King

It has been a number of weeks since the Monkey King has posted on WordPress. There are some good reasons to this. And it falls to me – a talking, computer literate monkey –  to narrate the story.

This is the story of the fall of the Monkey King.

Read it well:

It’s tough to describe the character of my former lord. Some describe him as a tyrant. To others; a simpleton. An Australian disillusioned by the wealth, pretension and grandeur in his country. I don’t believe it. To me, he wasn’t a friend, a kind soul, a saviour.

He was my boss.

So I hated him. Even though he liked me.

“You’re my favourite monkey, Mojo! You’re the pick of the litter,” the Monkey King said over and over (sorry to the monkeys who are reading this, I guess you weren’t that important in the MK’s eyes. He never mentioned you to me at any rate, so you couldn’t have been important).

But I had to tell the fool that all the monkeys in the forest weren’t related, so they couldn’t be in a single litter. Besides, monkeys aren’t puppies. Or cats. They are monkeys. I don’t believe monkeys relate to litters. Unless the monkeys are throwing bananas and rubbish on the ground. As in; “stop littering, you stupid monkeys!”

Some compare the Monkey King (our lord Chewbacca) to looking like Jim Morrison.

Jim Morrison

Nah. That’s not true. Jim Morrison has sex appeal. Not that I was sexually attracted to Morrison. It wouldn’t work out. He’s a human. A guy. And he’s a musician.

Never date a musician.

Oh, and I’m quite sure he’s dead. I read somewhere that he was dead.

The Monkey King had blue eyes. Everyone talked about his blue eyes. They startled a person and you had to avoid staring at him because the intensity of his pupils scared you. It was embarrassing to make eye contact. There was something deeply personal about the transaction. All the Balinese locals spoke about his eyes. They said “the Monkey King has blue eyes. Lovely blue eyes. Beautiful blue eyes. I wish I had blue eyes.” In fact, the vendors in the marketplace bought fake eye contacts as deep blue as fake plastic sapphire. To sell them, the vendors pitched them to potential buyers as “Monkey King eyes.”

“Ay you, want eyes like Monkey King?”

Nobody wanted eyes like the Monkey King, it turned out. Not for 70,000 Rupiah anyway. The eyes were too deep set, they made him seem crazy.

Chris Bitstrip

But it wasn’t his eyes that made him crazy. It was his actions.

Sure, in his blog he blamed the craziness on the monkeys, but we just obeyed his orders. He was insane.

And through his insanity, dis-contention began among the ranks.

-He’d play his trumpet in the early morning, waking us up at 5am to When the Saints Go Marching In.

– He burnt down Rafiki’s treehouse while we were having a onesie party. What an evil thing to do.

Having fun. Ha ha ha ha ha, see?

Having fun. Ha ha ha ha ha, see?

– He refused to marry and produce heirs. He broke the heart of our lovely Scar-face. Toyed with her emotions.

Scar-face-web-quality

-He endorsed slave labour.

– He kidnapped a drop bear from its native country, and released a white tiger, using them to spread fear among the monkeys (who are terrified by them). He’d say “if you don’t do what you’re told and work 15 hours a day for free, then the drop bear and white tiger will get you!”

-He made us watch Gossip Girl and Neighbours. It was never the good shows. I still haven’t caught up with Game of Thrones.

-And, I’m pretty sure he ate this monkey for breakfast last Sunday

Chelsea Suzanne Photography

Why would you eat such a cute little thing? What a monster!

– And so, you might be tempted to think of the Monkey King as a martyr, a kind man, a nobleman, a hero of sorts, especially when you learn what happened to him.

But actually, he was just a man. A monkey man. As cruel and as deceitful as the rest of us.

I continue soon.

Categories: Humor, literature | 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.”

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.

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

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