Sender: |\\/|uPP/-\\
Subject: hmmm...

I like monkeys.The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece. I
thought that odd since they were normally a couple thousand. I decided not
to look a gift horse in the mouth. I bought 200. I like monkeys. I took
my
200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one drive. His name was Sigmund.
He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright. They kept
punching themselves in their genitals. I laughed. Then they punched my
genitals. I stopped laughing. I herded them into my room. They didn't adapt
very well to their new environment. They would screech, hurl themselves
off
of the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at
first, the spectacle lost its novelty halfway into its third hour. Two hours
later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive: they all died.
No
apparent reason. They all just sorta' dropped dead. Kinda' like when you
buy
a goldfish and it dies five hours later. Damn cheap monkeys. I didn't know
what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room, on the bed,
in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw
rugs. I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck.
Then I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead, dry monkeys. I tried
pretending that they were just stuffed animals. That worked for a while,
that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell
real bad. I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in the toilet and I
didn't want to call the plumber. I was embarrassed. I tried to slow down
the
decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately, there was only enough room
for two monkeys at a time so I had to change them every 30 seconds. I also
had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn't all go bad. I tried
burning them. Little did I know my bed was flammable. I had to extinguish
the fire. Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen
monkeys in my freezer, and 197 dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed.
The odor wasn't improving. I became agitated at my inability to dispose
of
my monkeys and to use the bathroom. I severely beat one of my monkeys. I
felt better. I tried throwing them away but the garbage man said that the
city was not allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him that I had
a
wet one. He couldn't take that one either. I didn't bother asking about
the
frozen ones. I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas
gifts. My friends didn't know quite what to say. They pretended that they
like them, but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them
in
the genitals.

I like monkeys.

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