Last week, my husband Larry brought a monkey home from work. He works at the Center for Diseased Monkeys and Small Children. I asked if the monkey could have ebola, and he said "No honey, Poopitcher here hasnt had ebola in a long time!".
Right now the monkey is taking huge dumps and throwing them at my screaming children, Larry Jr and Larry 2.0. Im sweating, he wants my brains. He has a tendency to jump on my face and claw at my eyes. He has also chewed up my Martha Stewart lingerie and spit the bloodied remains at my dog, Martha. I have diarrhea. I think he is on the ceiling.
My question is, how do I get Poopitcher to feel more comfortable in my home?
And also, is it true that brains taste of chicken?
- Ms. Larry
I havent had ebola in a long time either, though I occasionally go into convulsions or plot to eat the brains of those Lesser To The Ebola Monkey Squeak.
But, those usually pass after I have some scotch and watch "Trading Spaces", and then pass out naked in my lawn chair.
Just let the monkey bite you. It means he wants your brains, but in a nice way.
No, tastes of children.