Monday, April 19, 2004



I don't like my alarm clock. I wish I had a monkey who had an alarm clock in his own room who would know to come wake me up when the alarm went off.

That way, instead of my thrashing angrily out of my slumber because some car dealer's radio commercial is blaring too loud from my radio, I'd be happy to be awake. Because the monkey is shaking me. And perhaps screaming.

And my monkey is cool. So I could never be mad at it.

Naaah. On second thought, scratch that idea. That monkey would poop on me. I just know it.


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