Friday, August 31, 2007


A prostitute monkey named Sally was tired of working for chump change. She knew she had the best saucy red ass and prettiest eyes out of all her street hustling compatriots and decided there was more to life than ham and sardine sandwiches every Tuesday, even when she did splurge sporadically on an occasional chocolate malt and double bacon cheeseburger.

Sally had a sister, Eveline, who dressed as a nun on Sundays to solicit the dog walkers at the park for candy money. Eveline, a self professed sugar holic, collected at least $50 dollars a week from frisbee golfers, baby stroller rollers, and surprisingly enough, harmless voyeur pedophile parasites, who stalked, but did not touch, and their donations were always the best, tens, sometimes twenties. It seemed guilt was a great factor contributing to paranoid philanthropists, using their lunch money as a means of feeling like a better person in the eyes of God with his backbone made of comets, testicles made of Milky Way Galaxies.

One day Sally and Eveline struck paydirt when they stumbled upon a bag of magic seeds. They planted the seeds. The seeds grew into diamond trees. Ruby trees. Emerald trees. Sally could've easily, but decided not to retire from prostituting because she liked performing lewd acts with random strangers and giving them the mange. Eveline was a pathological liar, so she did not throw her nun outfit away, or stop collecting candy money from park pedestrians. Something they both DID do was buy one hundred new pairs of shoes a piece. Some were even ugly. And some...they never even wore.

The moral of the story is: monkeys like sex and sugar so have plenty of both on hand at all times in case you find one you'd like to marry.


Robert said...

Have you written about this prostitute monkey before?
Maybe I know her.
I was sharing needles with the wrong breed for a long time in my reckless youth... almost caught the clap once or twice.

Sabra Embury said...

The prostitute monkey had sex with you just now,while you weren't looking. She's very fast. Fast too. Easy. EASY TOO.

Robert said...

I see 'shoe fetish' as a label there.
Once, and this is completely true, I wrote a blog featuring posts about shoes. Only shoes.
There wasn't a heap of posts, maybe twenty five... but each one focused on a different character of shoe.
It's gone now, however. Deleted off blogspot with a few other aborted blogs, but I still have every post.
For me and my dog.

ryan manning said...


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