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Our Crack Little Crack
When I find myself cast into an arena of despair, mentally speaking, I
like to think about dying and disease, as well as starvation, violence,
terrorism, war and the end of the world. It helps take my mind off
things. But over the last week I’ve been consoling myself, mentally
speaking, by thinking about monkeys - specifically their names.
Chimpanzee! Orangutan! Gibbon! Which genius gave these monkeys those
startling monikers (and are they on crystal meth)? I could go on:
Mantled Howler Monkey! Emperor Tamarin! Pygmy Marmoset! Oh man…! Whoever
comes up with these names clearly has the best paid work (and the best
drugs) in the world. I SO want a job where I can give names to monkeys
(and wouldn’t it be great fun to write ‘Monkey Namer’ on any forms that
ask for your occupation). Say it loud and say it with me: Baboon!