My It's beginning to feel a lot like christmas...or...Everytime a baby cries a monkey gets it's wings

So since life is finally starting to feel like Christmas (the temperature, hell my lips are chapped and that's a hard thing to happen to the monkey).

So as a PSA to the community I will be giving you the:

"Guide to Surviving the Holidays Monkey Style"

1: To avoid becoming full of rage at the mall; try taking tiny ice breaker mints and occasionally throwing then a head of you aiming for the bald guy that only comes out this time of year.

2: Get an unwanted fruit cake? Re-gift it to an old senile relative or donate it to a hospital food drive (sick old people eat anything)

3: When the relatives come over play games like, "Where are grandma's dentures", "How many times you can fart during dinner before people start to wonder if you are doing it on purpose"

4: Egg nog is good but it tastes better with banana liqueur

5: When you get a sweater and you really wanted a video game system; smile and plot revenge. Get them a twig and some poop 6: When hear people singing Christmas carols, sing back louder but don't sing Christmas carols instead sing Slayer's "Reign In Blood" and give them the metal sign





7: Kiss and hugs are nice but nothing says Merry Christmas like a swift punch to the groin

8: People in malls don't like waiting in line so make their stay much more enjoyable by telling them what you would like for Christmas. When they look at you funny say "you better get it for me or i swear to all that is holy I will hunt you down and let everyone know that you are a horrible person that hates monkeys and children and kills kittens and puppies!"

9: Pee when you are sitting on Santa's lap, he loves that.

10: Monkeys make the best gifts.

Tomorrow: Is it better to recive then give?

My moment of shopping

I went shopping with my father today, that's always an experience. For those of you that don't know and for those of you that do I have this thing for customer service, as it is a monkey like myself has enough issues with being taken seriously, but when I'm not taken care of in a store, oooooooo you will feel the wrath of an angry poop flinging monkey.

Dear Old Dad

So I'm looking for a sleeper (you know footy PJs for my sister) and my father and I walk into SEARS. He begins to tell me that you need to think carefully about buying gifts, because many female monkeys tend to have issues with clothing (thank god I date leopard) so dad and I start looking thought the woman's sleepwear section. Now if you have ever seen monkeys looking through clothing it looks something like this. So I go up and ask the sales person where I find footy PJs. She looks at me, down at me, and I ask again, "Naked ape, where would I locate a sleeper for my 19 year old sister?" She looked at me and in a firm loud voice she said, "Monkeys don't wear clothes". I was amazed at the fact that she couldn't see that I in fact was wearing clothes, and my father who was now hanging from a LandsEnd display was also dressed. I said, "If a monkey were to wear clothes where would I find footy pajamas?" again she looked at me and said, "I'm sorry I don't understand monkeys don't wear clothes". I stood there in awe of her stupidity. "My dear mentally stunted woman, do you not see I'm wearing clothes, and so what if monkeys don't wear clothes, sell my footy pajamas you moronic wench." I threw up my hands in dis-belief, gathered my farther up and continued up the escalator. I got up stairs and found something else for my sister. Now it was time to pay, my total came out to be 81.27 (I bought a few things) and I have the clerk 81 dollars, then search my pockets for change, I have a nickel; I hand the clerk another 20 cause unfortunately ATM machines don't give singles. As she rings in 100 I find a quarter; hooray fortune has smiled on me I now have 30 cents. I hand the clerk 30 cents and she looks at me, "I already rang in 100." she said. So why can't you just give me 19 dollars and 3 cents, can't you do math? I'm a monkey and I can do math. I got $18.73 back. I looked at the woman, she looked at me, I looked back. out of the corner of my eye i say my father god bless his soul humping the leg of a near by mannequin. This hinted to me that it was time to leave, on my way out i saw the footy pajama woman again, not to let her forget me I shat in my hand and lobbed it at her.
I hate shopping.

Tomorrow: When you give a moose a muffin, you better hope you have a nice cup of joe.

My night of fighting

So I'm come home from a rough day at the hospital, pushing patients here, there, and everywhere. On a side note you would not believe the amount of human anatomy that you see during the course of the day in my profession, I mean truly amazing, people in hospitals love to show off their junk.

So anyway, I have my cousin JoJo, (he's a lowland gorilla) drive me back to my treetop abode. I scramble up my front branch, promptly strip off my scrubs, and leap into the wonderful world of Halo. Another side note I'm borrowing my friends account for LIVE, he's a zombie, a refined gentleman zombie, but a zombie none the less.

So I start to play, and I end up in the pre-game lobby where all the players hang out and dis each other, and there's this moron of a child just screaming into his headset (for those who don't Halo, you where a headset to hear what the people on your team are saying) he's making no sense, and just yelling, and I don't have a head set, and I wanna say "God damn you you stupid kid, I wanna fling my poop at you" but hey I'll shoot him when we start playing, but then it happens. the little bastard ends up on my team. I deal with it. We start to play. We start to lose. Suddenly the connection is lost. When I get it back, my team has signed out. Those fuckers, they were losing, and jetted. My monkey rage got the better of me and I threw my controller across the room and proceeded to pee on the TV.

After my rage subsided, and the vial of red no longer clouded my vision I realized i should get a head set so I too could yell at the socially stunted minor whom I was planning to gun down.

Tomorrow:How I got even.

My Introduction

Please to meet you, I'm The Great Slam Dancing Monkey, Biff. If you and I have already met

then you've learned the following within the first 30mins: I work in a hospital, I use to work at

Guitar Center, I play video games, I play guitar, I drink beer, I eat, I'm deathly afraid of

zombies, I'm a pretentious music prick, I also apparently have horrible taste in music.

To fully understand me you're just gonna need to read.