The little monkeys put together another claymation in honor of Dr. Safran’s mother’s birthday.
I’m heading back to high school this August. No, I’m not planning to trawl for underage girls (just because I hang out with monkeys doesn’t make me a perv). It’s my 20-year high school reunion. Yes. Dr. Safran will have to shed the lab coat for a few moments to meet up with lots of people who remember me when I was monkeyless. Oh, the circle of life… I’m not sure how I’ll explain that 96 of my 100 monkeys are on “vacation” (read that as labor dispute). Oh, well.
Here’s a video I just made for the occasion from an old super 8 movie. No monkeys but lots of Paul Simon singing Kodachrome.
We got both.
Blind dates can be so weird. So, I’m told.
My friend Molly used to have this really ancient cat named Morpheus. He was so old he would walk to the bottom of a counter or couch and wait for someone to lift him up since he’d long lost the ability to jump. At the same time, I had a cat named Munchkin. My oldest sister gave it that name because she was a huge Wizard of Oz fan.
As much as I like my monkeys, I still like my cats. However, cat lover or not, this email I received today nearly had us coughing up hairballs we were all laughing so hard. Thanks, Molly! Enjoy:
You can see an entire gallery of cat images at http://b3ta.hnldesign.nl/index.php?id=263.
I knew a monkey once.
He was brown, wild and free.
He could run faster than me
as he bolted up the nearest tree.
He’d rap his chest and shout,
“Oooh, ooh, ooh and eee, eee, eee.”
Then he’d jump from the tree
and land right on top of me.
I’d fall to the ground
and curse the crazy monkey
but he’d just laugh and flee
into the bushes to eat a berry.
Then one day he was gone.
I looked around but couldn’t see
where my monkey could be.
Now my tree is simply empty.
I wait in the cool shade
for my monkey to return.
It’s only my time to burn.
Some monkeys just never learn.
I’ll wait another week or so
but I know he’s really gone.
Sometimes I’m here until dawn
and wake up on the wet lawn.
Google’s new feature is the cool.
Not that anyone should really care but, look, I worked here about 19 years ago when a slice and a drink cost around $1.50. I was the only guy there without tats or piercings. This was one of my all time favorite jobs. I burned up at least one clutch and broke my ’77 Toyota Corolla’s brake cable delivering pizzas.
I bussed tables at Saul’s Deli almost exactly 20 years ago. It’s still there and much bigger than I remembered. It seems to have swallowed the neighboring Basket and Robbins. I still remember my boss telling me to wash the walls whenever I stood in one place for too long (30 seconds).
Freezing in the cold storage, I stocked the shelves here 22 years ago. I used to roll kegs out to the local college kids. Joy!
Yikes! 27 years ago I hurled newspapers at this building for the Berkeley Gazzette.
“Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.” – Albert Einstein
I have to remind of that each time I wake up and my toaster is fighting with the cat.
