The main thing I wanted as a child was a pet monkey. I probably didn’t have one single waking day during my childhood where I didn’t think about how cool my own personal monkey would be. They were easy to get, too, as you could see from the ads.
This desire was in no way cooled by the fact that my cousins actually had one of these monkeys, and it was evil incarnate. Although we lived close to them, we didn’t get the chance to see it often because my mother was usually not speaking to my aunt (my father’s sister, who once insulted our much poorer branch of the family). But on the rare occasion when we did, we were able to see it running around on top of the drapes and bookshelves, chittering at everyone, darting down to bite or pull hair, and occasionally throwing monkeyshit at people. It was a charmer, and I think when it went walkabout one cold winter and froze outside in a tree, they weren’t too torn up about it.
So when I found this link via BoingBoing this morning, it really made me laugh.
It leapt out of the cage when I opened it up the second time! I mean, it was eyeing the pipes that I was unaware of. As soon as I opened the cage, it leapt up and grabbed onto the plumbing up on the ceiling and started using them like monkey bars, and he was just shooting along in the basement, chirping pretty loud. It was heading towards the finished side of the basement, where there was a drop ceiling, and if it got into those channels, I never would have got it. It would have been days to get this thing out of there. I grabbed it by its tail, and it came down on, starting literally up by my shoulder, like a drill press it landed on my arm, and every bite was breaking flesh. It was literally like an unsewing machine. It was literally unsewing my arm coming down, and I was pouring blood. I grabbed it by its neck with both my wrists, threw it back in the cage. Its screaming like a scalded cat. Im pouring blood. My friends laughing uncontrollably, and my father finally comes in the basement door and goes, Jeffery! What are you doing to that rabbit? And I go, Its not a rabbit, its a monkey, and it just bit the hell out of me. A monkey? Bring it up here!
lol…you know what? Even though I remember my aunt’s evil poop-tossing primate, I would still love to have my very own monkey. If you could still have one dropshipped to your very own front door, who wouldn’t? It’s every child’s dream.