Person: Hiyo! I just saw Napoleon.Xidus.Net, and by the way, this
automated message is pretty stupid.
Me: Yes, it is, isn't it?
Person: I would have thought you could have done something a bit more,
er, monkey with it.
Me: Eh. Too predictable.
Person: Where did you find the brown & fuzzy item on the FtM site?
Me: At my friendly local McDonald's.
Person: I have one who is staring at the screen right now, & I
swear...they must be related.
Me: Oooh... we should have a reunion!
Person: Hmm, it's a thought. Where does your monkey live?
Me: On my right computer speaker, generally.
Person: That would be ok then. My monkey doesn't have a license nor
does he like walking much.
Me: And he's not of the flying variety?
Person: NO! You may laugh but those filthy creatures always gave me
the creeps. There is something about flying-monkies that seems entirely unholy
to me.
Me: Well, the purple ones are nice.
Person: Yes, I must admit that...but that music always sends me into
the corner, rocking back & forth in the fetal position.
Me: You get music with yours?
Person: Well, just the music in my head. Its sort of like the internal
sound track to a really bad B movie which went straight to video but is now
only available in beta.
Me: I used to have a beta machine. But it broked.
Person: That is what they were designed to do. So, in essence, yours
worked just fine.
Me: Wow... I never knew that.
Person: Well, that is what I am here for then...odor, etwas wie das.
Me: Uh?
Person: Yeah, I get that a lot. It comes and goes...something like
channeling an old german granny...only not so painful.
Me: I have that with sentient sporks.
Person: Oooh, that does sound a bit on the painful side.
Me: They tend to be mostly nonviolent. There is the occasional exception,
though.
Person: Of course. What would the universe be like, were it not for
the occasional exception?
Me: Sort of puddinglike.
Person: Oh...is it chocolatepuddinglike?
Person: I like chocolate...
Me: Universe flavor. What you mortals call butterscotch.
Person: Ah...it is not unknown on my planet...yet we do not use it
as currency as do your people.
Me: Mmm... how unenlightened of you.
Person: I try to keep my existential mind in the closet, so as to
avoid the obvious conflict of interests in the pursuit of frivolity.
Me: Of course, of course. I should have realized that on my own.
Person: Well, that's what I'm here for, no? To catch the crumbs which
fall through the cracks in the floor. In the mean time, you may continiu
with the ruling of the monkey-verse.
Me: Yes... ruling with an iron fist... or one made of Spam.
Person: You ought to have that Spam fist at least coated with
something...er, not being an expert of course, it might well be wise...for
reasons of convenience and sanitation.
Me: But then I wouldn't be able to munch on it idly!
Person: You may gnaw to your hearts content of course...but if it
were say, me who was the ruler...I would want to ensure that I have a fist
tomorrow as well as today.
Me: Hmm, good point. Perhaps I should have an extra fist made.
Person: Why yes. That is nigh on perfection in thought! Why of course,
this is why you are the ruler and I the mere subject.
Me: Exactly. Perhaps if you serve well I shall give you cookies and
cheese.
Person: Oooh...what variety of cookies and cheese?
Me: Tell you the truth, probably cheese cookies.
Person: Mmm, ok. Could you try not to mix the cheddar and the brie
though...please?
Me: Oh, definitely not. Brie is too mushy.
Person: Oh thank you. Because I do so hate too mushy cookies.
Me: Cookies are good soft, but not mushy.
Person: True. What are your thoughts on brownies?
Me: Oh, they have good auras. I never kill them.
Me: ...er, wait, you mean food ones. They'r eyummy.
Person: Uhm, yes the 'food' ones are eyummy too...(uncomfortable silence
looming ahead)
Me: Did you just... mock me?
Person: That depends...could I get away with it?
Me: No.
Person: Er, then no. No, absolutely not. That must have been my identical
twin cousin.
Me: There's no such thing as a twin cousin!
Person: Oh yeah! Just you tell that to Patty Duke,
Person: er, both of 'em.
Me: I would if my calls ever got returned.
Person: Do you actually use a telephone...or perhaps the cyber-mega-phone?
Me: I use my iludium Q-36 explosive space modulator.
Person: Did you get that from ACME or at Marvin's yard sale?
Me: The latter.
Person: You got it on a latter?
Person: (snicker)
Me: Don't make me kill you again.
Person: Some of us are gluttons for punishment...others however, are
gluttons for didactic pterodactyls.
Me: Ooooooh, gimme one of those!
Person: You may have as many as your needs require.
Me: Huzzah!
Me: ::defenestrates all those in sight::
Person: Who is Catzilla...and how, (my wife would like to know) does
one scan a cat?
Me: Catzilla is my cat, or rather, was my cat, and one scans a cat
by holding it over the scanner, having one's brother click the 'scan' button,
and hoping clawing does not soon commence.
Person: Ahem. Er. Oooo, K. This may sound childish but I feel I must
ask. When you say that Catzilla "was" your cat...does this at all have anything
to do with the scanner incident?
Me: Not that I know of. He simply passed away. Several months after
being scanned, I might add.
Person: I'm sorry to hear that. We lost a rat a couple of months ago.
Me: Aww. I always hated losing my rats. Poor little fuzzy things.
Person: We currently have seven rats. Just next door to them we have
two mice.
Me: Oooh, lots of rodents.
Person: Yes, yes...along with them we also have a cat named, er, kitty
I think...at least that is what I call her.
Me: Oh, come now, can't you be more original?
Person: We also have a UGE dog. And yes, he is so big that we had
to leave the 'H' off of huge. His name is Rufus. How is that on the originality
scale? Not quite what you were expecting, eh?
Me: ::shakes her head in disapproval::
Me: My kitten's name is Norman. It took me three weeks to pick it,
and I am quite proud of it.
Person: One of my rats name is Norman...so, as you can see...it was
taken already.
Me: Not if I got it from a different source of inspiration!
Me: Said source being a perticular movie which sums up the little
furball's personality.
Person: I did not mean your Norman...I meant my Norman...in reference
to the naming of the cat.
Me: Ahh. In that case... er... spork.
Person: btw...my wife informs me that kitty's name is actually Lucy.
I sit corrected.
Me: ::invites Lucy over for cookies that may or may not be laced with
nuclear duck meat::
Person: Where would one locate a nuclear duck?
Me: I have a supply on hand. Don't ask where I got them from. You
don't want to know.
Person: I will not ask you were you got them from. I don't want to
know.
Person: The force is strong with you young one.
Me: Of course. What else is bribery for?
Person: Umm, getting rid of those pesky lint ridden bits of whatsit
burried deep within your pockets?
Me: No! Don't get rid of that! It makes a tasty and nutritious meal
when you find yourself unexpectedly lost in the Andes!
Person: I never, repeat never, get lost in the Andes.
Me: There's always a first time.
Person: With the history of the multiverse being as long and repleat
as it just happens to be...are you seriously asking me to indulge in the
fantasy that there is, "Always a first time?"
Person: Please.
Me: There's always a first time. And often a 42nd time, too.
Person: How did you know of the 42nd time?
Me: I have my ways.
Person: Yes...but from whence do they come?
Me: A little world inside my head.
Person: That could be a bit dicey...you know, should there be any
thoughts of expansion or whatnot.
Me: Eh. I'll burn that bridge when I come to it.
Person: Should I be allowed to offer up some advise, I would say that
it would be preferable to burn the bridge 'after' you've crossed it...makes
getting around a tad easier.
Me: Why would I want to do that?
Person: Logistics
Me: Besides that.
Person: To the left, you mean?
Me: Yeah, right there. See it?
Person: Oooh...that's a noodle scratcher.
Me: I prefer to eat noodles.
Person: Ramen type or of the italien pasta variety?
Me: Either or.
Person: Or either...noodles good...Homer Simpson taking over brain...mmmmm
brains.
Me: Don't go zombie on me. I have a rocket launcher and I know how
to use it.
Person: What does this button do???
Me: It makes people go boooooom!
Person: Do they actually go boooooom...or kersplat?
Me: First one, then the other.
Person: I see...so, by the way, what's the range of that thing anyway?
Me: Mmm... I've seen them go maybe fifty, sixty yards.
Person: The rockets or the people, er...parts?
Me: The rockets. The people parts don't go nearly that far.
Person: Perhaps you should shop around for a new brand of rocket.
Me: Eh. This type serves me well enough.
Person: Ok, ok...its not that I happened to have an extra coupon for
the extended high yield Explode-O-Rocket or anything.
Me: You didn't? Darn.
Person: I think that there may be an extra coupon on my dust shrouded
web site [this was a link before it got parsed by my silly mail client --
Ed.] but I'm not sure...it has been about two & a half years since I
did anything to it.
Me: Aha... and along comes the not-so-subtle plug for the personal
page! Was wondering where that was.
Person: Query: Which of the people are you from the Find the Monkey
site?
Me: I am HTML Girl.
Person: I don't plug websites...I plug holes.
Me: I plug websites all the time, because if I didn't, people like
you wouldn't get to find the monkey. And that would be bad.
Person: Is HTML Girl different from Idea Girl?
Person: Yes...people like me must find the monkey.
Me: HTML girl is indeed different from Idea Girl.
Person: I see...so in your opinion, which is better?
Me: I choose to declare them equal, for that way I don't wind up eating
my foot after it mysteriously appears in my mouth.
Person: Well, that seems rather banal and diplomatic, but acceptable.
Perhaps it would not be such a bad proposition if your foot were jelly filled
and chocolate coated...
Me: ::checks:: Nope, it's not.
Person: Bummer Dude! C'est Fromage!
Person: Yes, I know...
Me: Uh... window?
Person: You have a puzzled look on your face and a furrow in your
brow...
Me: Hey, so I do.
Person: Yes, yes...a common occurance when one talks to me.
Me: I don't doubt it.
Person: Gee...you catch on quick.
Me: I'll assume that was not intended sarcastically.
Person: Me? Sarcastic? No. Not me. Never.
Me: I still have the rocket launcher, remember.
Person: Why yes, I do seem to recall something to that effect.
Me: Good. And don't forget it.
Person: If you were a muppet, which muppet would you be and why?
Me: The Swedish Chef because borking is cool.
Person: Aha...I would, unfortunately, be assigned the task of taking
over for Beaker...memememmememeep!
Me: Why unfortunately?
Person: Do you recall what happened to Beaker every week when he would
attempt to assist the scientist?
Me: Alas, memories of my childhood grow dim, and I do not.
Person: Dim is good...but when was your childhood that should be do
distant a memory?
Me: It ended about a year ago if you believe the government. I like
to believe I'm still holding on to a few tenacious shreds.
Person: You have the government informing you of the state of your
childhood?
Me: Doesn't the government decide that for everyone?
Person: No, not everyone...for a few of us, say me for example...they
have simply lost interest. Oh, don't get me wrong...they did try to steer
my fate once...long ago...but now...
Me: Doh! Why didn't you tell me this earlier so I could have learned
of your secrets and applied them to my own existence?
Person: Well, first of all...I don't advise this for everyone.
Me: I'm an exception, I'm sure.
Person: At the tender age of 18, I enlisted in the Army for college
money, (of course)...
Person: During this time, they attempted to mold me into the ideal
soldier...unfortunately they forgot that I was in the Military Intelligence
and not in the 'real' Army. Much like an average M*A*S*H episode, I did anything
and everything I could to cause them difficulty and irritation.
Person: Finally, after three years and the fall of the Berlin Wall...they
asked me if I would leave. I of course concurred with this choice. It was
a very difficult process which required a great deal of attention and
tenacity...not recommended for all...but it did have the disired effect of
making the government ignore me and no longer desire to choose my fate.
Person: Asleep yet?
Me: zzzzzzzzzzzz -- er, no!
Person: hehe
Person: Ok, now you are asleep.
Me: No, just playing with an X-Acto knife.
Me: My instructor told me to, I swear!
Person: Well...I won't try to tell you to be careful or anything...I
did happen to have an unfortunate incident with one when I was much younger...
Me: I break them rather often, but they don't do much in the way of
harming me.
Person: Aha...you must be of the kryptonite klass eh?
Me: Something like that.
Person: I see...I usually have a tendency to use the X_Acto knife
to the point that it seems about to explode...then, should my attention wander,
it does.
Me: I didn't know they could explode.
Person: Well you obviously haven't been using them right.
Me: Hmm. I'll have to rethink my technique.
Person: Personal note to X-Acto Knife usage...never close your eyes
AND carve the hardest & knottiest wood you are able to find.
Me: I'd think that would be somewhat self-evident.
Person: Well sure...if you have the advantage of being removed from
the situation...similar to hindsight.
Me: Mmm, I suppose.
Person: Yes....this would seem so.
Me: Then we are agreed. Have a spork.
Person: Ah yes, the spork...would that have any relation to SPOON!
Me: Possibly.
Person: But...I thought that there is no spoon.
Me: There is. You just have to know where to look for it.
Person: Okie dokie
Person: ;-) I've gotta skoot. Thanks for the great confabulation.
You are quite an intelligent monkey.
Me: Thankee, and have fun in whatever endeavors you pursue the rest
of the day.
Person: Thanks. PLease feel free to do likewise if not the same.
Me: Yessir!