Cut for Lack of Monkey Pants
No, really. I am not kidding.
De and I went for a walk around Salem, which is, as you know from my bitching, an itty bitty town in the middle of nowhere. Butt fucking Egypt.
So we're randomly walking around in these big circles, and there's this thing on a porch. It looks like a monkey. Only it can't be a monkey, right? I mean, Indiana, man. Indi-fucking-ana. Monkey? WTBF? We draw closer. "Hey, De, that's not a monkey, is it?"
Only it is. It really, really is.
And it's happy. Very, very happy. Happy spider monkey tethered to a cement block on a random porch with police tape around it.
Giant monkey erection. Bright red monkey erection and, as De pointed out later, some seriously sexually monkey frustrated blue balls. Mr. Fucking Spier Monkey Tethered to a Cement Block gets no lovin. Ever. And apparently thought we might be interested.
Mr. Monkey's owner was watching up out the window like he might have a Smith and Wesson with our name on it, though, so we high tailed it out of there and proceeded to call various people and go, "Fucking goddamn spider monkey tethered to a cement block" because WTF, man. WTF.
And now we're telling you.
"Of all the things I expected to see, and strange things I prepared myself for, that was definitely not one of them." --De