Musical Monkey Meat

I must finally put to rest one of the most often asked questions in the great history of my chronicle. Obviously, I’m talking about the fate of the non-native musical primates foolishly gifted to me by my former fiancé’s father, Yuri. Yuri being the name of the father, not the former fiancé, whose name I basically cannot even say without experiencing spontaneous bladder leakage. Anyhow, my initial response was to order Mateo to let them loose in the rainforest. I don’t have time to waste caring for these damned monkeys, I spend nearly every waking minute saving the Earth from man’s thoughtless actions. Eventually, Mateo and Rogelio convinced me that, although not appropriate as a tribute to Milli Vanilli, these apes might have some musical value. After two days of the monkeys' musical tribute to the Monkees, I ended this ill-conceived attempt at recycling and sold the monkeys to a local butcher. It was the only logical choice and the fastest way to stop their consumption of Paraguay's precious natural resources. That is my answer to your question. Next question.

Moronical Musical Monkeys

As much as it pains me to do so, I must basically reject Ursula’s father’s dowry such that I can move on with my life and my mission of saving the Earth. As you may or may not recall from my previous post, the original and basically laughable dowry offered by Ursula’s father, Yuri, consisted of an old dishwasher, blue bowling ball, a bunch of coconuts, and an angry cat. Obviously, this does not recognize my greatness, so I accepted this feeble offering and requested additional gifts to be given in accordance with my dowry supplementation protocol (DSP) such that I could basically accept it. As you may or may not know, my favourite musical act of all time is Milli Vanilli, and I’m also quite fond of monkeys. Basically, my DSP included acquiring a band of native Paraguayan monkeys that, with assorted yet appropriate instruments, attempt to replicate the greatness of Rob and Fab such that I may enjoy the aforementioned sounds whilst saving the Earth and/or receiving foot massages. I thought this would basically be a small thing to ask since he’s a renowned collector of the World’s rarest monkeys.

Do you have any idea what that ignorant son of a goat herder gave me? A band on primates that play Milli Vanilli’s soothing sounds and infectious grooves yet are not native to Paraguay!!! The costumes don’t fool me Yuri, I’m a freaking biologist!

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!? What nerve. Milli Vanilli doesn’t even have acoustic instruments or a saxophone player! So needless to say, obviously, the deal is off. Good riddance Ursula, and I want that owl-monkey-testicle-laden ring back for the next lucky lady that might actually be committed to helping me singlehandedly save the Earth.

Is this all I’m worth?

As expected, Ursula and her parents couldn’t live without having me join their family tree. Perhaps because of my amazing skills and intellect, or because they’d like to increase the probability of purging their gene pool of uni-brows and female hirsutism. Basically, I was recently contacted by Yuri, Ursula’s father, with the terms of the dowry he is willing to offer in order to have me marry his daughter. So after waiting with anticipation for 5 months without telling anyone, you can imagine my surprise when today I received an old dishwasher, a blue bowling ball, 41 coconuts and an angry cat! ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!? I was expecting a luxury car, gold, diamonds and/or other various gemstones, and livestock! The man’s a freakin’ goat herder and he can’t spare a single goat!?! Does he have any idea how much a petrified owl-monkey-testicle-laden ring costs?!? Although he claimed that’s all he could afford, I think I’m playing hardball on this one. I’m not some second-rate biologist and, although I’m not one to brag, I’m the best damned biologist in the world! I momentarily considered putting myself back on the market, but I do realize that I’m unlikely to find another person like Ursula, my Sun-Goddess. I truly believe she’s the only one that loves and admires me as much as I love and admire myself. For this reason, I’ll give Yuri a chance to supplement this meager dowry. In the meantime, I’ll need to have Mateo take a break from massaging Magnum’s feet and dispose of this non-functional dishwasher in the forest somewhere.

Ursula is the luckiest woman in the world!

Basically, as you may or may not remember, Halloween is the most special of special holidays. Never has the day been more exceptional than this past year when, as you may or may not recall, I went, as I do for all important major holidays, to Slovenia to spend this extraordinary day with my Sun-Goddess, Ursula. As we went to the Halloween ball dressed as the two greatest musicians in the history of music or history, Rob and Fab, the two transcendent musical virtuoso geniuses from the band known as Milli Vanilli, I had a surprise in my pocket. Obviously, this isn’t the first time I’ve had a surprise in my pocket for Ursula, as I’m sure she, her goat, and most of her neighbors within a three-block radius can basically tell you, and by that I’m basically referring to my amazing sexual prowess although I don’t like to toot my own horn, although Ursula basically does. I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable, but if I am, that’s just the price you’ll have to pay for being my loyal unquestioning and subservient followers. Because I am a biologist, mentor, and artist, in the interest of pedagogy I have provided a biological diagram of Ursula's goat:

Prior to departing for Slovenia, I had used some of my research funds to commission a local Paraguayan jeweler, Roberto, to make an engagement ring in the form of Kurupi, the Guarani god of sexuality and fertility, out of the petrified testicle of a free-ranging owl monkey. Basically, nothing can better symbolize our love and commitment for one another. Not only did he make the aforementioned ring that I would later bestow upon my almost-sole-reason for living, Ursula, he also made me a matching ring that he said was of “Jasy Jetere” god of the siesta, whatever that means, out of the owl monkey’s baculum, whatever that is.

As we left for the aforementioned party, me with the extra testicle in my pocket, I was giddy. I couldn’t wait for that special moment to arrive, that moment of pure ecstasy that we had experienced on the dance floor each of the previous two years when our favourite song, “Girl you know it’s true”, was played for our slow dance of the evening. The excitement was almost too much to take. This would be the most important moment of Ursula’s life. I quickly grew impatient and when the song “Blame it on the rain” came on, I briefly lost control and peed a little bit in my pants. I then regained my composure and waited patiently for two more songs after which I approached the DJ, who likely recognized me, and demanded that he play our song. As I walked back toward Ursula, the song came on and our eyes locked across the dance floor, just as they had done two long years before. What happened next was obviously magical. I dropped to one knee and reached into my pocket. All at once, I emptied the rest of my bladder and began to sob uncontrollably. As I kneeled, sobbing and in a pool of my own urine, I began to slowly utter the most profound words to ever leave the mouth of a human being “Will you…” and it was at that point that the sobbing became so uncontrollable that my speech was obstructed by the streams of snot pouring down my face. I continued “Will you…” and then collapsed to the floor where I crouched in the fetal position and lost control of my bowels. As I laid in my own waste incomprehensibly stuttering and shaking uncontrollably, Ursula knelt down and I asked if she would join me in saving the Earth and do me the honour of being my wife and, legally, number one follower. Obviously, she did not feel comfortable answering at that point in time for fear of making all of the other women, men, and hermaphrodites in the room jealous. She assured me that, as is custom in her culture, she would give me an answer after five months while her father attempted to amass a proper dowry, and she made me promise not to tell anyone in the meantime. Well, five months is up, and we’re officially engaged! I’m supposed to find out my dowry tomorrow, and I’m sure a proper Slovenian dowry for the World’s Greatest Biologist will be quite impressive.