Posts Tagged With: Monkey King

Monkey Prison

YOU’VE probably assumed I’m dead in Bali somewhere. Probably when Mojo posted Death to the Monkey King so you’d forget about me.

I have a highlighter and a square of toilet paper, so I’ve little space to write. I’m exiled in Monkey Prison. Yeah, it exists. It’s like Monkey Hell but without the sulfuric acid. We have knife fights and the guards bet on the winner. We live in a pit underneath a tree. There is a window at the top of the pit, between the roots of the tree, and some of the brave monkeys climb up the pit to escape.

“MATI APAAN KEPALA!!!” we scream and chant from the bottom of the pit as we watch the monkey climb. “MATI APAAN KEPALA!”  when the monkey inevitably falls and dies.

Dark Knight Rises

The sunlight shines down. It gives us hope to mess with our minds.

Apparently that’s what it does, but actually, I appreciate the sunlight. Every little thing is a blessing.

I have become a new person. A little more spiritual, a little more humble. When I was Monkey King I wanted something every day. It was a new throne room, a slippery slide down the tree, monkeys to die for my amusement, Bitey the white tiger to stop biting. And when they exiled me by throwing me in a hole in a Borneo rainforest, all I wanted was freedom.

But now I’m not bothered. What would I do with freedom? I would waste it. Now I wait in this slag heap in the bottom pit of the tunnel.

The entrance into the prison. They throw you in and leave you to die.

The entrance into the prison. They throw you in and leave you to die.

 

The first few months the monkeys beat and broke me. I crawled down in the far caverns to hide where the worst of the chimps stayed, because most of the monkeys avoided the place. It was dark and muddy, but I healed from my injuries.

Last week one of the larger chimps we avoided came to me. I thought it was going to stab me with the knife it was holding. “Are you the Monkey King?” it asked, and before I said yes it handed me the muddy piece of toilet paper. “Your manifesto changed my life. I was full of resentment for the humans – and my hate led me in here – but your 300 page essay changed my life, it taught me to transcend beyond hate. I owe you everything I became.”

The chimpanzee’s name is Cujo, and he has promised a way to get my message of hope to the outside world.

I promise to escape this prison, defeat the monkey who stripped me from the throne, and regain my title of Monkey King. Don’t delete this blog just yet.

Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

(part 2) Six ways to reject an infatuated monkey

IN THE previous post I mentioned that a monkey called Scar-Face proposed to me, and is expecting me to give my answer this week. She has threatened me with physical abuse if I break her heart.

Scar-face-web-quality

You know, this whole thing is absurd. I don’t want to marry her. Even though she is sort of nice. Look at her! But I also don’t want to get beaten up. So, I have six ways to tell a crazy monkey that I’m just not into her, with estimated percentages of success :

1)      It’s not you. It’s me!  44%

How you would probably go about it: “You’re a beautiful monkey, with a scar that has disfigured your face so that you have three nostrils, but it’s just not the right time for me! Even though my advisor wants me to get married, and even though I have no heirs… Please, stop stabbing me!”

2)      We’re not the same species!  78% before Avatar came out, currently 34%

An obvious but popular favourite. The problem is, is that I’m king of the monkeys. I’ve sort of been adopted into the tribe, and I can’t use “I’m a different species” to escape the advances of suitors. Also, I complained to Abu that I couldn’t date a monkey. And he said; “Haven’t you seen Avatar? Where Sam Worthington becomes a big blue alien and gets to have a hot blue chick princess if he so wishes?”

Damn you Hollywood! You’ve made it socially acceptable to marry a monkey. Don’t you have any morals whatsoever?

3)      I’m scared of intimacy!  12%

Oh yeah? And what if she says, “I’m sorry  I’m so insensitive,” and cracks onto me even worse! The last thing anyone needs to see is a sleazy monkey in lingerie touching people in inappropriate places, like on the knee! No. NO! NOOOOOOO! I won’t even chance it.

4)      You deserve so much better! 65%

How you would probably go about it: “I don’t know your real name, so I call you “Scar Face.” So I think I’d make a bad husband. But I’ll still make a good king – ruling over hundreds of your fellow monkeys.”

5)      I’m just not attracted to you. 80%

How you would probably go about it: “You’re ugly. Really ugly. Your face looks like a Mr Potato Head. You have so much fur I don’t even know if you have a belly button. You need to lose weight. You need to be a lot taller. I’m pleased you wear make-up, but it’s the same lot dabbed on from that visit to the animal testing facility. I might get over these issues if you were from Texas. I’ve always wanted to go out with a girl from Texas.  Are you from Texas? Didn’t think so.”

6)      I’m saving myself for someone from Texas 0.5%

No offence.

What would YOU choose?

Categories: Humor, Romance | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Six ways to reject someone who is in love with you

So let me just write a few lines on here so that the “good stuff” isn’t shown on my Twitter and Facebook links. Blah blah blah.

Blah blah blah.

Okay, now I can tell you I sort of lied. This is titled Six Ways to Reject Someone Who Is In Love With You. And while that’s true, I’m talking specifically about a sleazy monkey I call Scar-Face.

Wait! Don’t go. The six ways can apply to humans too! Let me just pop on the music for the atmosphere.

See, I’m the Monkey King. I’m kinda a big deal in the monkey forest. Some monkey ladies are attracted to my glamour or title or charisma or whatever the hell this is.

Kilt

Damn. Wrong picture. Disregard it.

This was the one I meant to post.

Monkey king animation pic

Now where was I? Oh yeah, monkey ladies.

See, the most aggressive monkey who competes for my affections is a monkey I call “Scar-Face.” She has probably been on steroids and resembles a Mr Potato Head. What you assume to be her eye is actually an ear.

Anyway, on Friday morning she arrived at my throne room, delivering 12 roses before she kissed my feet. “Happy Valentines Day, M’ Lord. Will you marry me?” she asked.

“I thought you were already married to Rafiki?” I said.

“You’re thinking of Rhonda. My sister. I still available though. Give answer next week. Rude to keep a lady waiting.”

So anyway,  I have to tell Scar Face she’s ugly without hurting her feelings. If I hurt her feelings in any way, she will kick me out the tree, tie me upside down from a power line, and whack me with sticks. Well, that’s what she told me she would do.

So I have six suggestions of how I can tell a crazy monkey lady that I’m just not into her, with an estimated percentage of success.

And that will be on the next post (sorry!).

Categories: Humor, Romance | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Rabies from Scar-face

I’M SICK of being propositioned by suitors. In an effort to get me hitched, Jo-Jo (my Monkey’s Paw) has been encouraging  the many suitors to advance upon me. They would try to get to me at night if I hadn’t thought of fixing the walls and padlocking the doors of a local trader’s back shed in which I am currently residing in.

The most aggressive of them is a woman monkey I call “Scar-face”. She’s a bit suggestive.

"Hey beautiful"

“Hey beautiful”

I’m too scared to talk to her, and it’s not because I care what she thinks. Yesterday, Scar-face told me she had rabies, bit me on the neck, and offered out some sort of syringe which she said I needed to take as soon as possible if I didn’t want to die a most painful death.

“I’ll give it to you,” she tittered. “But you have to put a ring on it first.”

“I think we’re done here,” I said, climbing to the top of a tree and waiting for the first signs of madness. Or whatever symptoms humans get for rabies.

I’m not mad yet! And maybe I can fight the madness away by shrieking at the top of my lungs.

“Hey beautiful”
Categories: Animation, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Tree Force

AFTER spending a few weeks with Dad and six monkeys in a fancy villa for Christmas holidays, I’m finally back in the monkey forest. Dad dropped us off at the forest gates this morning and threw each monkey out individually.

“You have all been horrible,” he said to us as he rubbed Mojo’s bite mark on his forearm. “Good riddance,” he said as he slammed the door. The car screeched away.

Rafiki started crying. This was surprising. He puts on such an arrogant persona, hates everyone, that I hadn’t noticed until then that he almost worshiped my dad. Later, I heard him mutter that my dad should be the king, not me.

I was relaxing in my favourite tree after ordering one of the monkeys to bring me an ice tea, when Gina climbed up the ladder. She didn’t look happy to be in the forest. But her boss had ordered her to come and tell me in person – because I smashed my phone after Gina and I used Bitstrip photos to argue – that the television executives were hoping to use the monkeys for another television show. A BETTER television show than the last one, which is a relief because Big Monkey was a terrible idea.

This show will be called Tree Force.

So right now the monkeys are being taught by professional renovators the basics how to build and renovate. The idea is that the monkeys will work together in pairs to build rooms around the tree while they bicker and squabble and use power tools to hurt each other (which apparently makes good TV).  Supposedly, in four weeks we’ll have a super tree house.

Maybe like this!

images.businessweek.com

images.businessweek.com

But I have my doubts.

Have the producers forgotten these are just damn monkeys? What madness is this? Monkeys can’t build tree houses. I wouldn’t even trust the monkeys with a hammer.

At the moment Mojo is at the foot of the tree, working on the front porch. I just hope he knows what he’s doing with that chainsaw.

Categories: Humor, television shows | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Another stupid D&M post about having a reflective New Years

I haven’t engaged with the blogosphere much in the last two weeks. There are many reasons and excuses, but mainly I didn’t want to write while I’ve been trying to escape a hardcore hangover.

I’m sort of seeing the light of day now. I’m leaving the bedroom before 4pm now.

Fake drunk Chris

Also, I’ve set a goal to finish the first draft of my novel by New Years Eve. It’s achievable, but time consuming. I’ve been working on it since last October. 14 months and I’ve just hit 120,000 words. I don’t brag about word length anymore. It’s juvenile and who gives when most of it isn’t a good combination of words. Word length says absolutely nothing about word quality. It just means more to edit, and I don’t look forward to doing the rewrite.

How come you’ve never heard about my novel before? I’ve been embarrassed to talk about it. The monkeys laugh at me and I didn’t want humans to do the same thing.

What do Monkey Kings write books about? Well, I don’t know about other monkey kings, but the novel is a supernatural murder mystery, drama, and school yard romance. There are no monkeys in it, but in the first draft the main character might release a poisonous snake in his English class to get out of his oral presentation. I’m still tweaking the label but I have plenty of time before I’m ready for an agent.

But I didn’t really write this post to talk about my book. I came on here to procrastinate writing the last scene. It’s a scene set years later from the rest of the book. All grown up, like in Harry Potter. It’s necessary to have this scene because without it, the ending is too savage, abrupt and dark to be popular. Now it will be a wistful and bittersweet ending.

Actually, I want to write about what New Years means to me and maybe even to you. For sure, the meanings of holidays have changed. Christmas has shifted from celebrating the birth of Jesus to simply enjoying life with friends and family (debatable) and if you listen to the monkeys opinions, living the teachings of the Black Eyed Peas.

The meanings for New Years Eve and Day have also changed.

Because really, it’s a time to reflect what we want out of the next year, and to evaluate whether we need to change our plans from the following year. In this fast paced time of consumerism, it has become harder to take time to be still. To pause and to reflect. One of the only times we really do this naturally is during these two days.

I want to quote part of Queen Elizabeth’s 2013 Christmas speech.

“We all need to get the balance right between action and reflection. With so many distractions, it is easy to forget to pause and take stock. Be it through contemplation, prayer, or even keeping a diary, many have found the practice of quiet personal reflection surprisingly rewarding, even discovering greater spiritual depth to their lives.”

At the risk of having already sounded a little preachy and a little pro-establishment, the Monkey King thinks she has got it right. Hear, hear, Queen Elizabeth! We Monarchs sometimes say some wise things.

While at some point I want to make a more elaborate list of New Years resolutions filled with silliness and good humour, I want to give you some earnest and genuine points I wish to achieve in this post, especially relating to All Hail the Monkey King.

We reached about 2000 views and 130 followers in the seven months since this blog began. We could have had more but I didn’t want to follow a heap of blogs and then not read them. I wanted to read all the blogs I followed, get used to doing so, and then add some more blogs to actively engage with. It’s proving to be a challenge.

Three blog posts a week has also been difficult, and disheartening. Certainly, I have had a small group of loyal and engaged readers who understand what I am trying to do. And this is to make a unique, fun and creative fictional blog that almost takes the piss of the current main blog genres. Commentators, you are the reason I am continuing to write this. However, I haven’t had as much time to spend on each blog post, and the quality of grammar has dropped.

While I listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Tuesday’s Gone” on Spotify in a Starbucks café overlooking a temple lilypond, I am promising you (the reader) that I will be cutting down to one post a week. I will also be focusing on other aspects in my life, such as seeking employment in Bali, and at least dating a few times without being stupid about it.

The Monkey King isn’t saying that he’s going to go tame, not at all, but he does need to spend less time obsessing on the internet.

Now with the risk of getting a bit soppy and awkward, I love you all, especially my engaged readers. This isn’t a goodbye, only a written renewal of some form of friendship we have made the last seven months.

Here’s to sharing our lives with complete strangers for another year.

XOXO

Categories: Humor, Philosophy | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Letter from Inuka the polar bear

I had hoped that the Bundy Rum bear would visit Ubud to celebrate my 24th birthday with me. Despite all the letters I sent out, I never heard back from him. It was my birthday earlier this week, and he wasn’t there. So I proclaimed he would be an enemy of the kingdom.

But last night I received a lengthy comment on my WordPress account, that I wish to share:

DEAR MONKEY KING

I hear that it is your b’day. Happy 24th, you crazy old bugger!

I am not the Bundy Rum bear, though for you I wish I could be. In fact, I’m not even sure he really exists. Like any minority, polar bears all know each other. Besides, a free polar bear giving out alcohol seems a little too good to be true.

My name is Inuka, and I am a star attraction at the world famous Singapore Zoo.

DSC_0127_edited-1

I have heard tales of your exploits. Some of the birds (mainly the charitable and religious hornbulls) sneak out of their cages at night and tell tales to the isolated exhibits (like me!). They are the zoo’s grapevine, a way for us all to connect (who needs the local cafe, am I right?). They usually get the stories about you from the monkeys…and who knows where they get them from. Rumour has it that BJ (a proboscis monkey) owns a T-shirt with a printing of you on it. Tell me, are you in the band The Doors, or am I thinking of someone else?

Jim Morrison

Is it true you took out a bunch of lesbian vampires living in Ubud? And that you all had a good time at the Boom Boom Bar? And that you also rose from the dead to seek revenge on your killers? And that you escaped a deserted island by riding on sea turtles?

I wish I could come to Bali and be a part of these adventures. But it would be too hot and expensive to my kind keepers. Instead, I will ask the birds to pass this long message to an animal that can write it down. I believe the orangutans have internet privileges and can find your blog.

I also wish I could wear shining armor so you could ride me into battle. We’d make a ferocious sight! You’d chop enemies with your sword, and I’ll chomp off their head.

Taken from Celwalls.com

Taken from Celwalls.com

Even though life forces us behind barriers that we can never break through, may we never stop believing that we can follow our far-fetched ideas.

Keep living the dream!

Inuka, XOX

Categories: Humor, letter | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Bitstrip War’s final battle: Even Monkey Kings can be losers

THERE’S this girl called Gina. She’s a TV presenter. She’s hot. I don’t think I’ve mentioned her before.

Regular viewers of my blog might be rolling their eyes right now saying “dude!”

Anyway, for a while she was disinterested and tried to ignore me as much as possible. And then we became…well…frenemies by insulting each other through Bitstrip photos. I liked to call the battles The Bitstrip Wars.

I was the happiest I had ever been in my life. Surrounded by the monkeys I cared for in the heart of Bali, and insulting the girl I had the hots for.

But then I got into huge trouble when I sent this photo:

BitstripwithGina7

After a few days of silence – making me sweat my body weight mind you – she sent through a Facebook message.

GINA: You’re right, that is horribly inappropriate! Are you crazy? My fiance checks my Facebook page. He doesn’t want us to be friends anymore. He thinks you like me.

MONKEY KING: Oh Boo hoo! That’s nothing if you snapchatted with me.

GINA: I don’t think I ever want to.

MONKEY KING: You’re a strong, fierce, independent woman. Be friends with whoever you want to be friends with.

GINA: Stop being a patronising jerk. And no more naked photos! Or that’s it.

MONKEY KING: Only if YOU stop sending me naked photos. Chompy finds them a little arousing.

So then she sent me another Bitstrip photo. Except this photo was different. Before, it was harmless sexual innuendo, pen dropping and teasing.

Bitstrip with Gina9

MONKEY KING: Wow, just a little hurtful, Gina.

GINA: What? That’s hurtful?

MONKEY KING: Yes, I’m…hurt…Gina. I thought we had something going.

GINA: Oh shut up.

MONKEY KING: Ooh, getting angry, are you Gina?

GINA: You really piss me off. Die, you creepy jungle sleaze!

So…ignoring the danger signs that suggested the subtle danger signs had gone from “Irritated” to “Anger” to “Hate”, I posted another Bitstrip to ease the tension.

As you do.

Bitstrip with Gina10

GINA: Ha ha ha. Comparing me to Jack Nicholson? Oh honey. Is that the best you’ve got?

Bitstrip with Gina11

You would be surprised how many people have called me “crazy” or a stoner  or “heavily medicated” or like Brad Pitt’s character in 12 Monkeys (love that movie!!!).

After a while you get weary of the judgement. I know I was being a bit sensitive, and was letting Gina wind me up too easily.

So I got a bit carried away, trying to make a joke.

It’s a defence mechanism.

Bitstrip with Gina12.2

And it’s been half a week, and there was no sign of what she thought of my “proposal” until this morning, when I noticed she unfriended me on Facebook.

The Bitstrip Wars were over. And I was left with a sour taste and a broken phone (because I threw it at the ground), realising an important lesson: that maybe in war, there are no winners.

Even Monkey Kings can be losers.

Categories: Humor, Romance | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Silly little dreamer’s birthday

My birthday in tropical paradise! I rise from my throne with a yawn and a wookie growl. It’s hard to tell whether it is the burn of the sun, or an orchestra of monkeys (and a drop bear) that wakes me from my slumber.

I leave the tree by sliding down the newly constructed flying-fox, which finishes halfway along Monkey Forest Road. It’s the best way to escape the forest without being chased by a white tiger (you sneak back in by hiding behind a tourist). Some of the monkeys follow but I kindly tell them to leave me alone for a little while. Cause I need ME time.

Bitstrip rainbows

I sit down for a refreshing ginger and apple juice at the Three Monkeys Bar. Get a massage. Ride my moped without a helmet on, dammit. Have a copper pull me up, and he recognises me and smiles and sings “Happy Birthday Mr Monkey King” in broken English, then asks for money.

I play soccer with a group of local kids in a nearby village, have Mi goreng for lunch, and get a tattoo of a machine-gun wielding monkey on my back.

I believe a birthday should be a celebration of life. Nothing planned. Nothing set. No sit down roast dinners. I think it should be doing everything on the spot. Laughing when you’re 80 and saying “See this shriveled tattoo of a monkey gunning down Nazis? My 24th! I know!” Waking up and running out of your home and facing the world and saying “I always wanted to do this, so dammit! This is my time!”

But I realised that I just wanted to be with my monkeys. I could imagine that they were sad and lonely, wondering why they couldn’t celebrate my birthday with me.

SONY DSC

Photograph by Carol Boaden

But no, when I got back I found the selfish bastards my friends drunk. It was too hot to dance. Most of them were just chilling on Bali lounges with tequilas and chatting up hot Swedish tourists. Moby was playing so loud on our collection of stereos that I could hear him from the other end of Monkey Forest Road. The traffic was hell, with most of the locals swarming closer, refusing to miss another monkey party. A bouncer (what the? Who hired him?) was blockading the gate, only letting in the chicks.

“You can’t come in!” the bouncer said. “I’ve been warned about you.” Then he chuckled and slapped me on the back and said “had you going.”

I entered, surveying the madness. I stepped over what I first thought was a mutated hedgehog (nothing like Sonic though) but was actually a stoned white tiger with an insane amount of tranquilisers pinned into the fur.

I grabbed a “cold one” from an esky and that’s when all the monkeys jumped up and ambushed me and lifted me. I crowd surfed all the way through the forest and was at last put down onto my throne. The monkeys handed  me presents and cards, blabbering I had to open theirs first.

Well, I couldn’t open everybody’s first, so they helped me do it. Mojo opened Timmy’s present, a Kris (Indonesian sword). “Oh boy!” Just what I wanted!” Mojo shrieked, and ran down the tree with it to show his friends.

Garrett the drop-bear gave me a collection of The Doors albums, Jo-Jo gave me a golden engraved staff and some socks, and Lucy returned my Gossip Girl DVDs.

I opened the cards last. That’s how I do things.

This was my favourite cover:

monkey king card

But wait! There’s more!

Monkey king card 2

 I couldn’t have had a better year, so thank you all for putting up with my eccentricities and crazy dreams. I love you all.

Categories: Humor, Party | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

20 gift ideas for a monkey king (or for any dude who is awesome!)

I HAVE written a list of 20 things you could get a monkey king for his birthday. This list will be useful if you know a monkey king and it’s his birthday soon, and you don’t know what to get him. However, it is Christmas soon and I believe this list can be applicable for childlike men who love their freedom.

Coincidentally, it’s my birthday next week. But this is irrelevant.

Anyway, you could start by getting:

– A real live Pokemon. But if you can’t catch one, then  I will settle for an exotic animal disguised as a Pokemon. EXCEPT: don’t get me a goldfish and say it’s a Magikarp. DON’T. YOU. BLOODY. DARE.

– A date with Taylor Swift (if you are in a position to make arrangements, reassure her that I wouldn’t be sleazy or nothing. I’m happy with a coffee and a chat about what inspires us to write)

– Jetpack!!!!

Jetpacks

This man has it all. Taken from http://www.giantbomb.com

– What every guy wants. A hover board. Even if its pink

–  A mailbox (well, I do need one)

– A replica of the Mcleod sword (Highlander)

– Sonic screwdriver

– Time machine (yeah, I know, there’s just as much chance as dating Swift)

-An army of ninjas OR a troupe of Scottish soldiers

– A pet gorilla

-Electric collar for Bitey our white tiger

– A mini-me of me

– My dream car. A 1992 Diahatsu Charade.

Diahatsu Charade

Taken from commons.wikimedia.org

– A chance to hang out with Green Day, but I would settle for Weird Al

– Packet of jellybeans

-Beanbag

– The Bill Hicks biography

– World peace (I know, what a wanky thing to put on the list, but seriously if you were in the position to achieve this, you should totally do it. I wouldn’t even expect you to get anything else, as long as I get some sort of dedication for this achievement)

– A Monopoly board accompanied with promises of immunity (no fingers crossed you cheats!) if I land on your hotels

– Free hugs

Free hugs

Categories: Humor, List, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

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