Monkeychapps.com

The Internet’s secret shame

This is the post that made me want to blog. I haven’t seen anything recent from this author but as I re-read this its as funny as it was seven years ago.

A Sticky Situation

I write to Xerox:

Dear Kings of Kopiers: (feel free to use that)

I just started a new job as an exterminator’s assistant, and part of my job is mailing out invoices to our clients. Today, while printing all the invoices, I ran out of printer paper, so I ran down to the local office supply store and picked up several boxes of Xerox MultiUse Paper.

While the invoices were printing, I noticed something on the package of paper that concerned me, and I thought I’d better check with you about it.

On the box, there is a little thing that says 99.99% jam free. I know that sometimes wood finds its way into paper, but jam? I was always taught to keep all food and drinks away from computer equipment, especially something as sticky as jam. Now, I realize that it is a very small amount of jam in each piece of paper, but we use an awful LOT of paper, my friends, and all that jam is sure to add up. Won’t that adversely affect the life of our printer? I mean, I’m sure you know what you’re doing when it comes to paper, but we use more than the average consumer, so maybe we would be better off with a “Jam-free” paper, if you offer such a product. I will look for it next time I am shopping, which will be soon, as I don’t want to use any more of this paper until I find out if it’s really safe.

If it is safe, why not say “Contains .01% jam, but it’s perfectly safe” in big letters, since I’m sure that I am not the only one who has this concern. You may end up selling a lot more paper that way.

By the way, I’m curious as to why you would even put jam in paper. Does it help bond everything together so it doesn’t look like confettii? Just curious. Also, I’d appreciate a Xerox keychain.

Thanks,

Dave Cilluffo
Edinboro Pa

They reply:

Thank you for your message.

We greatly appreciate your taking the time to send us your feedback regarding our 99.99% jam free paper. We have restricted the manufacture of paper to the morning because we have so many folks who eat jam for lunch. Nevertheless, it has been our experience that small amounts of jam have found its way into the paper via morning bagels and jam-filled donuts.

Our tests have shown that the .01% jam isn’t harmful to machinery and you may continue to use it. In fact the jam has improved the overall quality of the finished print. However, you may have to keep a can of ant spray around.

You may wish to enhance paper performance by using the 99.99% jam free paper with our new line of 99.99% peanut butter free paper. They absolutely work best when used together. Or if you prefer you can save time by using the 99.99% PB & J free paper. Whatever you choose we are sure you will be pleased with the results.

In appreciation of your e-mail, we will be sending you a Xerox T- shirt.

If we can be of other help in the future, please let us know.

Received 1 Xerox Tshirt, and 1 Xerox polo shirt!

#1- A jet pack. Any man born in the 20th century knows that jet packs were to be the preferred form of transportation as the year 2000 approached. They were promised to us by TV, radio and comic books. But the millennium has come and gone and alas we have no jet pack to shuttle us back and forth to our laser gun shooting galleries and autonomous robot boxing matches. If technology can store 5000 songs in a machine the size of a pack of cigarettes why can’t it propel me through the air at 120 mph?

#2- A 1970s undercover cop persona. Every man wishes he had a John Shaft afro or styled perfectly hair helmet al’a David Soul and a cool leather car coat. We all wish that we could jump through the second-story window of a warehouse with guns blazing just as the building explodes and is engulfed in flame. Every man would love like to drive to the other side of town, slide across the hood of our 1976, black Ford Torino and shake down a junkie pimp named “Snookie” for information.

#3- A monkey. Not necessarily a pet or helper monkey, just a monkey (perhaps with a jet pack of his own). I don’t know why, we all just want one.

I don’t wish to offend by using the term chicks, I mean women or young ladies but the term chicks has a hipp mysterious ring to it.

I started a new job a few weeks ago at a technology company and my eyes were opened to the majesty of geek chicks. They look just like other ladies but have a cerebral hotness that only the truly enlightened posses.

All of the women I have dated (all 2, plus the girl I stalked for a month) were what one might consider vixens. Curvy and always dressed as they were going to a photo shoot. Needless to say they were not the most healthy relationships and usually involved me listening to why I’m an asshole for and hour then she bitches for 2 hours.

Now that my younger days are over and I am a bit wiser my eyes have opened. You can spot a geek chick by a few signs that they all share. They usually have less make up than the vixens, not that its less attractive actually it is more so. They might wear glasses, sweet sweet glasses. They might have a t-shirt on that says things that you don’t readily understand, that’s hott ( I spell hot with two t’s to denote the extra hotness)!

I have found that the geek chicks are way more into learning about you and building a relationship founded on respect and mutual admiration. They can have a deep conversation about Plato or laugh at your lame joke about having a tribble in your pants. Whereas vixens are mostly about stripping you of material things then crushing your heart with a bony gnarled death grip and when your decrepit corpse is not able to spit out another hundred dollar bill or gold bangle they blow away your ashes with the exhaust from the Lincoln Navigator that you bought them.. Was that too jaded? I think I came off as hostile, oh well I digress.

So to you geek chicks I say welcome! You are a sweet change and I am sorry that I have overlooked you geeky beauty all of these years. I was remiss in overlooking you and that changes as of now.

Let the geeking begin!

No, this is the good one!

That’s the joke I like to play on those that seem a bit uncomfortable asking me about my eye. Its actually a replaced cornea that was badly scarred. I wish I had a story about how it happened like I was injured trying to find Ossama Bin Laden or it was injured during a fight with ghost pirates. Alas nothing as glamorous. The iris is stretched and it looks like a cat’s eye. I usually hear “that’s cool” and I reply with my old standard ” how cool, cool enough for you to want to give me cash/ make out/ wash my car”? No takers yet, but I am patient. I digress.

The shape of the eye sometime give an ominous look leading people to think that I am scowling at them. I found out this was known as the stink/skunk/evil eye. My usual jocularity and silly antics put people at ease and I no longer am placed in the “mean guy” category. With that said I will now retell a story, a story of pain, a story of disgust and trauma.

It was a glorious spring day. A day that could put the most devout curmudgeon and Nair-do-well in the best of spirits. A day when I took no offense at doing one of my least favorite chores. Mowing the lawn. I hate all the prep and extras that one does just to cut grass. Shovel poop, empty the catcher, fill the garbage bags and so on. I call shenanigans on all that! I’m a free spirit! I will just forgo the catcher and that other drudgery that keeps me from the sweet sweet smell of fresh cut grass.

I mow. I mow sans catcher(the little rocks that gently pelt my shins are not bad). The grass will fly out the catcher attachment, dry up and blow away. No problem. I mow over the dog doody. It’ll scatter all over and not be a problem.

Halfway though I see a pile, take aim and run over it. I never thought a piece of poo could exit the catcher hole, catch the wind and hit me. The odds of that are huge. Even greater are the odds of that same poo making a turn, catching an updraft and flying at my eye! The stink eye non the less. It was like a scene from the matrix only with dog poo. It was horrible and I still carry the scars. What I can’t figure out is why I felt running around like a mad man yelling “poo” would help me. Alas it helped not.

So now when I am asked about my “stink eye” I do have a story. Not a good one and a fairly unsettling one but a story non the less.

I don’t know any other person that replies to spam emails, or at least take joy in doing so. I have replied to a few and found the best replies back have lots of big words to confuse them. I will update this post asap.
—————
“Mr.Peter T S Wong” wrote:

Good day Sir/Madam,

Let me start by introducing myself. I am Mr.Peter T S Wong director of
operations of the Hang Seng Bank Ltd in Hong Kong.I have an obscured
business suggestion for you. Before the U.S and Iraqi war one of our
client Colonel Sadiq Uday who was with the Iraqi forces and also
businessman made a numbered fixed deposit for 18 calendar months, with
a value of One hundred & twenty five million, seven hundred & fifty
thousand U.S
dollars only in my branch.

Upon maturity several notices was sent to him, even during the war
which began in 2003. Again after the war another notification was sent
and still no response came from him. We later find out that the General
along with his wife and only daughter had been killed during the war
in a bomb blast that hit their home.

After further investigation it was also discovered that Colonel Sadiq
Uday did not declare any next of kin in his official papers including
the paper work of his bank deposit. And he also confided in me the last
time he was at my office that no one except me knew of his deposit in
my bank. So, One hundred & twenty five million, seven hundred & fifty
thousand U.S
dollars is still lying in my bank and no one will ever come forward to
claim it.

When I discovered he and his family is dead i had to look for a very
reliable person who can stand as the Next of kin to that funds , so
that the funds will be transfered out of the bank immediately. What
bothers me most is that according to the laws of my country at the
expiration 5 years the funds will revert to the ownership of the
Hong Kong Government if nobody applies to claim the funds.

Please treat this business with utmost confidentiality and send me the
following.

(1)Full names, (2)Private Phone number (3)Current residential
address, (4)Occupationn (5)Age and Proffession.

Therefore , if you know you are capable of involving in this mouth
watering transaction, please send me an email to my Private email below
, so that i will give you more details about this transaction and how
we will successfully carry out this transaction without any risk
involved.

Mr.Peter T S Wong
Email:mr_peter14@yahoo.com.hk

Hello!

Hello dear sir and thank you for your missive dated 28 May in the year of our Lord 2008. I am delighted in your obscured
business suggestion !

A little about me, my name is Bilbo Baggings and I live on a small tract of land called the shire.

I am capable of involving in this mouth
watering transaction but I need a picture of you to reaffirm you are you and I am I before we can be us. Please take a picture of your feet as that will prove you are a real person.

Please help me find the precious!

BB
——————————————

Disabilities? No uber-abilities! part 2
Posted by Monkee | on June 8, 2008 | category: Random! |

“You are left handed too, cool”!

That’s what I hear as often as “your handwriting is horrible”. I was born right handed but because of nerve damage I had to learn to use my left and thus my handwriting is not great. Very legible but not great.

Most people are very impressed that I can even write with the left and unbeknown to me there seems to be a super secret club for left handers. They will come up to me and ,with a wink , laud my south-pawery. They were born left handed and I chose to be left handed. I’m like their right hemisphere of the brain golden child. It’s not like I can read minds or bend spoons.

The one time that my explanation seemed to not help was the time I was helping a customer fill out some paperwork. She was a nice young lady who seemed to have had a bad day and was very curt and bordered on rude. I filled out a few pieces of the paperwork and she exclaimed “I cant read that”. I told her the paperwork was for internal use and the folks doing data entry for me could read it just fine. She was still upset and I was wondering why she was getting all worked up over a small, insignificant thing. After reassuring her for the 3rd and 4th times I asked if she would like me to get someone else to fill out the papers. She said no and she wished I could write better.

Dear reader, please understand that I try to be nice and understanding but there is a point at which I lose control.

I turned the papers toward her and asked if she’d like to fill these out but she would have to do it with her non-dominant hand. She gave it the old college try and found her print to be completely useless. Couldn’t read it. That’s coming from me that has to read my poor hand writing all the time and I’m like a bad hand writing code breaker.

She looked up at me and said “I’m sorry, I just had a bad day and I guess I kinda took it out on you”. I told her I knew it was something like that and I fully understood. We concluded our business and she apologized profusely again. I told her I completely understand and it was ok. She pulled her business card out and said she sold houses and if I ever wanted to discuss the market to call her. I thought this was odd as I wasn’t in the market for a house when she started writing her home phone number on the back of the card. I’m a little thick but I understood that she was using this as a way to slip me the digits, you are a sly boots indeed. I looked at the card, thanked her and with a loud voice exclaimed ” your handwriting sucks! It’s like you thought of all the ways in which you could make this unreadable. This looks like Egyptian hieroglyphics written by a retarded monkey”.

She laughed, I laughed. I called, we went out and as it turns out she wasn’t just having a bad day.

She really is a bitch.

Monkee out

Gentle reader,

I had a life altering injury when I was a teen that left me with a few limitations and injuries that still remain. People say “AWW that’s awful, you are so brave/accomplished/sexy”. Well the sexy thing I made up but I say don’t feel sorry for me. Nay rejoice! My limitations have opened my eyes to a brand new world. Now I’m not gonna get all “My left foot” on ya and pretend that I have used my injuries to do some great feat that inspires others. No I just have a real good time with the way in which people are assholes and alternatively dumb at the say time.

It never ceases to amaze me how rude, dense and sometimes how conversely nice some people can be. In following, the people I speak of are in the former categories. They were already deemed asses and as such not deserving of my respect. Besides I would never insult a truly nice person, they are too hard to find.

So, with that said, enjoy.

I am at work and in the men’s bathroom doing my thing. Eyes straight forward as not too attract attention(see past posts about bathroom rules). A coworker enters, a guy that I have never met and says “did you know that you have a big scar on the back of your head”? I kinda froze, I wasn’t sure what to do. Went back to my desk a bit down and a buddy asked me why I was down. I told him and as I recounted the story I stared to get riled. I told my buddy that I don’t even know the guys name and thought it was beyond what could be considered a dumb comment. He agreed, said he knew of the guy and gave me his name. I sat there and thought about egging his car, breaking his nose, punching him in the throat. No I handled this monkee style. I picked up the phone and pressed *818, the code to talk over the pa system address the whole office of 112 people.

“Yes hello coworkers, I would just like to say thank you to David Smith for walking up to me in the restroom earlier and asking me if I knew I had a 6 inch scar on the back of my head. Up till this moment I had not, and if not for the brave words of David Smith I still might not be aware. Lets all give a round of applause for his great detective work and I would like to say that you should all make a point of going up to David’s desk as much as possible today to thank him, he might seem shy at first but keep trying. In fact if you have a fear that you might have scars, moles or any skin anomalies please ask David. Also please email all of your friends with Davids email address and ask them to flood Davids email inbox. Thank you”.

Needless to say I was suspended for a week, with pay. When I came back ,from my week-long vacation, David was gone and I was told that after two days of people haranguing him he just walked out the door.

So thank you David for the week of paid vacation!

This is my first of many posts about my uber-abilities.