There is a [url=http://graphics.nytimes.com/packages/audio/nyregion/20060610_RINGTONE.mp3]ringtone[/url] out that is supposed to be only heard by younger people. It’s a very high frequncy, most easily comparable to a misquito. I think it sounds like a older television in the next room. Mainly this ringtone is for kids in school to be able to have their phones ring in class without getting caught. Smart idea. Annoying also, but smart.

This is going to be the downfall of the future. Everyone works hard enough to not to get fired. Now it seems you have to work harder to be lazier. Since I’m a genius at being lazy I don’t have to work hard at it. But, I did think of my own ring tone that “adults” would also not be able to hear. It’s called the Turn Signal ringtone.

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Ok, so this is the first time either team, the Dallas Mavericks or the Miami Heat have ever gotten to the NBA Championships! Dallas is flurry of crazed fans. The American Airlines center is selling tickets for no less then $500-$1000 a ticket and is already sold out for Thursday night’s championship kickoff game at 8pm.

But the real pincher is Dirk Nowitski against Shaq. We’ll see who the victor will be.

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The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece. I thought this was odd since they were normally a couple thousand. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth so I bought 200 of them. I like monkeys.

I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one of them drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright. They kept punching themselves in the genitals. I laughed. They punched me in the genitals. I stopped laughing.

I herded them into my room. They didn’t adapt very well to their new environment. They would screech and hurl themselves off the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the spectacle lost its novelty halfway into it’s third hour. Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive; they all died. No apparent reason. They all just sort of dropped dead. Kinda like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. God damn cheap monkeys.

I didn’t know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room; on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw rugs. I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn’t work. It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and one hundred ninety-nine dead, dry monkeys.

I tried to pretend that they were just stuffed animals. That worked for a while, that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell real bad. I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in my toilet and I didn’t want to call a plumber. I was embarrassed. I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortuantely there was only enough room for two at a time, so I had to change them every 30 seconds. I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn’t go bad.

I tried to burn them, but little did I know that my bed was flammable. I had to extinguish the fire. Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and one hundred ninety-seven dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed.

The odor wasn’t improving. I became agitated at my inability to dispose of the dead monkeys and I really had to use the bathroom. So I went and severely beat one of the monkeys. I felt better.

I tried throwing them away but the garbage man said the city was not allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him I had a wet one. He couldn’t take it either. I didn’t bother asking about the frozen ones.

I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My friends didn’t quite know what to say. They pretended to like them, but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them in the genitals.

I like monkeys.

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