Dead Monkey Walking

Monkey Boy is an idiot. We are going to prison. Dead Monkey Walking. I'd rather be at Gitmo.

Hostage!

Hostage!

I told you that this is a prison camp. We are forced labor. Now you have proof. Please send Amnesty International. We are being held against our will and made to work. They are barely feeding us. The toilets only work because we fixed them. They wake us in the middle of the night to interrogate us.

I'm a Mac!

Do you want to know the most ironic part of my life? I'm afraid of heights.

Yes. I am afraid of heights and I'm attached to a monkey. Can you believe my dumb luck? Monkey Boy climbs everything he can. I can't even close my eyes because that kid in China painted them on open. I am living in my own personal hell.



Holy shit, I think he might be gay. He really does like it up the ass. What the fuck is he thinking? I can't believe he willingly went along with this shot. This is ridiculous.

Plumbing

Today they had us installing the toilet. Finally, something flushable around here. K told us that in past versions of this vacation, flushing a toilet was a two-man operation. If you wanted to flush the toilet in one of the camps, you had to admit to someone that you took a shit and then ask them to stand in the other camp and hold a switch up while you flush. How embarrassing. If I had to guess, K probably didn't shit the whole time she was here.

Well, here you go, K. I got you a working toilet. Happy now? Can we come home yet? This vacation is going down the drain quickly.

More work

I didn't know that I was being sent to a labor camp. Today we had to jack up the camp by 8". (I know there is some bad joke about jacking off 8" here, but I can't seem to get past the punchline) Whole fucking thing is falling into the lake. I don't know what they would have done without me. A complete environmental disaster. Lead paint, dead fish, it would have been a huge mess. And look at the fools they have working on this thing. Some retired government engineering contractor. The owner who spends his days working on cars with criminals. Another guy who programs little remotes for rich brats who can't figure it out themselves. And some kid who sells bicycle racks for a living. What do they know about lifting an entire building? What would they have done if I hadn't shown up to straighten the whole mess out?

Working

Here I thought that we were coming to Maine for a vacation. What the hell is this? They made us start working today. This is ridiculous. Tease us with a ride on the jet ski. Let us think it is all going to be fun and games. Then Brother K says, "Hey, come look what we've done in this camp!" Next thing I know, we are slave labor. He used the monkey to swing through the rafters and hang cable in places that are unreachable by man.

How could this have happened?

Monkeying around

Finally! Something to make this whole trip worth while. A ride on the jet ski. This thing is frickin' huge! It seats three people. Who needs to have three people on a jet ski? Why not get a boat?

Monkey Boy never did let me drive. And he drives like a grandma in a Cadillac. At least I got out on the water. If you look close enough, you can see I got a tan. No really, I did, I swear. No, I'm not fading. I'm getting darker. Take off your sunglasses. Squint a little. See, can't you tell?



What the hell is this? Another one of those damned four-legged monsters. This one happens to be Perl-monster's Mother. Is this thing what happens when you mix a cow with a dog? Is this what a Dogcow is? Does that make Perl-monster a Cowpuppy? I think this one might actually say "Moof." She is deaf, so I don't think she learned how to bark properly. Or she is French Canadian and has an accent. If she were French, it might sound a little more pretentious. Now I'm wondering how angry German Shepherds sound when they bark.

Sebec Lake, Maine

I will never fly USPS again. Worst trip of my life. I thought flying Southwest and dealing with the cattle call was bad, but being crammed into a box alone with Monkey Boy for five days is absolutely unbearable. This is probably the only time that I'm thankful that we are made of fluff. Stuffing farts don't stink. Can you imagine a human fart in that box with no air holes? It would have been like an explosion in a waste treatment facility.

And to make it worse, K isn't even here. She left this morning. She didn't even wait for us. I know she knows that we were on our way. What a bitch. Just for that, I have no interest in going back to California any time soon. Think we will stick around here for a while.



Oh, and Monkey Boy thinks that the party is for him. What an idiot. It is K's Momma's 60th birthday in two days. I swear, he thinks everything is about him. Doesn't he know it is all about the humans? They could care less what happens to us. Guess I can't complain, since his head is full of cotton.

Is today the day?

Please, anyone, can you hear me? LET ME OUT!

Today is Saturday. Why didn't the post office deliver us from evil today?

I'm suffocating from ignorance. The giant monkey on my back keeps singing Kum-by-ya and pretending he is sitting next to a campfire roasting marshmallows for s'mores. The monkey is going insane and he is driving me insane.

Even if you can't get me out of the box, can you somehow convince Monkey Boy to stop singing? He has a voice that would kill an angel at a hundred paces. For the love of everything good in the world, make it stop!

Boxed in

Geezus, I'm still hyperventilating. I'm claustrophobic and now I'm stuck in this stupid box with Monkey Boy. As much as I distrust them, I actually miss the cats and the dog.

Of course today is a holiday so there is no way we will get delivered today.

Someone please, break into the post office and rescue me. I don't think I'm going to make it.

Another impostor!

Monkey Boy is obsessed with these impostors. He is an idiot.

We're found!

Neighbor S came back again today and found us in the golf bag in the closet. About damn time. I still can't forgive K for leaving without us. Frickin' moron. And then her neighbor can't even find us the first time. It isn't like this place is a palace or anything. Barely big enough to house a mouse, let alone a human, two cats, a dog, and a stuffed giant monkey that I can't get off my back.

Neighbor S took us to the post office. The POST OFFICE! Not the airport. What about my first class seat? What about the hot stewardesses? What about my martini at Legal Seafood in Terminal C at Logan? Wow, this chick has balls! She put us into a box and sent us to Maine. She didn't even poke holes in the goddamned box so that we could breathe. The conditions in here are horrible. Inhumane! Someone call the ASPCA or Amnesty International or something!

We'd better get there in time. I'm going to give K a piece of my mind!

Somebody get me another paper bag. I'm starting to hyperventilate again!

Hidden

Neighbor S came in today to try to find us, but we are still in K's golf bag from Friday night. What a frickin' moron. I can't believe she left without us! What are we, chopped liver? Geezus. She gets us all excited about this trip and then leaves us at home. Just like a woman. What a tease!

We yelled, but Neighbor S didn't hear us.

I'm lonely.