Dear Kellogg

Posted on December 30, 2008 by dangermonkey

Dear Kellogg,
I am writing to express my recent dissatisfaction with one of your products. Recently I purchased a 18 oz box of Kellogg’s Rice Krispies cereal. That would be the original formula; I’ve never been one for complicated Rice Krispies. It defeats the purpose of buying Rice Krispies. Regardless, my personal preference of toasted rice cereal is not germane to my issue.
Upon purchasing said box of cereal, I noted the following message on the front of the box: “INSIDE Walt Disney World Resort mini pal collectible”. As any parent with more than one child would attest to, those words sent shivers of pure terror up and down my spine. Immediately, I found myself concocting peace treaty-demanding scenarios in my head as a result of my kids catching on to the fact that there was a FREE TOY in their presence.
Oddly, they never noticed. A few days went by, and the dreaded box of Satan’s temptations sat untouched on my kitchen counter. That is, until tonight. It was not the kids who approached the box, but I, a grown woman who wanted a bowl of delicious, yet “gets soggy entirely too fast for the price they charge” cereal. As I lay my hands upon the blue box of promise, it dawned on me that there was a FREE TOY in my presence. A FREE TOY that had yet to be claimed by the children of the house. I employed the tried and true rule of “FIRST” and greedily opened the box of cereal. Now, I would like to think that in my 30 years of walking this planet that I had figured out the best way to retrieve free loot from breakfast sustenance. I’ve had the practice, after all. First, I removed the still-sealed plastic bag from the box, as most cereal companies have learned that putting a packaged item that’s been in contact with God knows what into intended food is rather disgusting. Eying the inside of the box returned only a recipe for Rice Krispies Treats (already know it, but thanks) and an order form for the mini pals. I looked back at the front of the box and confirmed that it was stated that a mini pal would be physically inside the box. It even says “Actual Item May Vary”, which roughly translates to “Don’t get your hopes up for Mickey. You’ll probably get Mater or Goofy.” The next step is a bag perimeter check. I swished and crunched the cereal in the sealed bag to determine the whereabouts of the mini pal, but my check yielded nothing. It was time to resort to the final step: arm submersion. You see, this is the last resort because a) one is sticking their body into food intended for consumption and b) it’s rather messy. But I was determined to get my mini pal. I had it all figured out in my head too. When my kids asked where the toy was, I would simply tell them that Kellogg’s forgot to put one in the box. Yes, I was willing to LIE to keep a FREE TOY. Re-read that line just so you realize how serious I am about free toys in my cereal.
I opened the bag and dived my arm in. I was up to my elbows in the innards of the toasted rice goodness. I felt the tiny pieces crushed under my desperation and try frantically to prevent me from moving about. Krispies began to tumble out of the bag in a fruitless attempt at freedom. Then I felt something! It felt like the definite edge of plastic packaging. I pulled and pulled, but to no avail. Irritated, I inspected the bag where my hand clawed maniacally only to realize I had been tugging at the other side of the cereal bag. I searched every square inch of the cereal and nothing was to be found.
Kellogg’s, you have crushed my hopes, much like I crushed the tiny Krispies in my futile attempt to find a 4-inch Disney toy. You may argue that it serves me right, seeing how my heart had become darkened with the reprehensible desire to horde the toy for myself and not to, oh, the kids in the household. But I implore you, what kind of world would we be living in if the basic structural integrity of the law of “FIRST” was kicked to ruin and rubble? I do not want to live in that world; I do not.
My heart may one day heal and perhaps I will forgive you of this horrid transgression. Until that day comes my friend, I shall resort to acquiring my toys the “old-fashioned” way and will sit in quiet resentment, begrudgingly eating my Rice Krispies. The original kind.
Thank you for listening.

Content Re-evaluation

Posted on December 9, 2008 by dangermonkey

Every once in a while I like to go digging up my blog stats just to see where people are coming from and what brings them to me. Every time I make this effort, I am usually partially speechless over the search terms that directed people my way. I’ve selected some of my favorite terms and decided to see just where in Google search results my site fell. After seeing the results, I’ve decided to put down some appropriate content for these search terms. After all, it is only fair that the individuals searching for the mentioned items get some sort of satisfaction from me.
Without further adieu, and in no particular order whatsoever, Monkey Thoughts WTF Search Terms 2008:
1) Life span of vampire monkey – 4th in Google search
Well this is quite simple actually : 22 years in the wild, 38 in captivity. That is, of course, assuming they actually existed and weren’t a hoax.
2) The hitcher beastiality – 38th in Google search
In neither of “The Hitcher” versions did bestiality occur. Sure, you could theorize and say “some jackasses got effed hard in the a”, but that is merely a metaphor. Perhaps it is a story one was searching for, about a hitchhiker on a lonely road and an unfortunate goat? If that is the case, I would recommend altering the search terms to be a bit more specific.
3) Monkey with lipstick from scary movie -7th in Google search
…
The monkey’s name was Jackson Reeves, which, you have to admit, is quite a fancy name for a primate. He wants everyone to know that he does not wear lipstick on a regular basis. The night before the shoot, he got completely wasted on cheap bourbon and ditch weed and put on Revlon Super Lustrous in Cha Cha Cherry on a dare. Unfortunately, he woke up late and had to rush to set to film his scenes. Seeing how he passed out the night before, Cha Cha Cherry was still smothered all over his face. The director loved the look, and thus it stayed, creating lingering proof of Reeves’ after-hour activities.
4) How to remove poop stain – 46th in Google search
I once had the unfortunate task of removing poop from my own carpet and made a remark on my blog, thereby sealing in history the most commonly awkward search term I see, month after month. It is a cringing favorite of mine. Let’s face it people…there’s a lot of people’s rugs getting pooped on, so for the love of all that is good in the world, do not play by the five second rule!
I now have hardwood floors, which makes the removal SO much easier. Additionally, I received a comment from Angie in Texas with steps on how to deal with said poop. That can be found in the comment section here.
5) Nipples in hustle & flow – 9th in Google search
I can only wonder if the searcher wants to know if there are nipples in “Hustle & Flow” (yes) or if I have pics of them (no). If it’s the latter, I have a course of action I recommend to appease the mind for want of nipples. First, proceed to a mirror. I recommend one in private, unless you are a kinky sonuvabitch and want the world to see your business. Next, remove your shirt and any upper body undergarments you have on. Look, nipples! Now stare intently at the reflection of your nipples and begin to softly serenade yourself: “You know it’s hard out here for a pimp/When he tryin to get this money for the rent/For the Cadillacs and gas money spent/Because a whole lot of bitches talkin shit” See? Sexy, isn’t it?
6) One dick at a time – unknown
The fact that I couldn’t find where my page landed in Google’s search (got to the 118th and got bored) says a lot for the dedication of this searcher. So I pose this question to him or her: why one dick at a time? Clearly, you have the stamina and the will needed to take on more than one dick. By all means, do it!
For the rest of you, take that search phrase as a new motto for life: One dick at a time. No more, no less.
7) Punishments for dirty sluts- 49th in Google search
Nipple clamps and whips, no doubt. And maybe a bath. And some hand sanitizer.
8) Gout of the dick- 12th in Google search
A quote from “True Blood”, but is it a real medical condition? You tell me.
9) My cat is trying to eat me – 12th in Google search
You have my sympathy. I say, try to eat it back. See how the bastard likes it now! (Don’t really try to eat your cat. Just subtle threats will do.)
10) My sim aquarium dead fish – 9th in Google search
I actually see a few hits from various Sim Aquarium searches. I would like to state that I was a horrible sim fish keeper and you should not come my way for any such advice, for it will only lead to certain death and destruction. If you want that sort of sorrow in your life, by all means, ignore the fish for awhile. Otherwise move along to a more successful fake fish owner and they shall lead you to prosperity.

Making the easy fairly muddled

Posted on December 8, 2008 by dangermonkey

I was sitting at work, doing my thing (which I do quite well, if I may interject), when I received a phone call on my direct line. (I specify direct line as most people who need to reach me know to call my mobile phone and not a desk or home phone, which tends to result in my staring at the phone blankly thinking “What is this beast and why is it shrilling at me?” Sometimes, I try to find the “ignore” option on the home phone, but alas…there is none. So for the purposes of this story, it was my desk phone that rang.)
I picked up the line, expecting it to be my husband since 99% of the time he is the only person to call my office line. Not having to deal with people on a daily basis has its perks, you know. There was a pause, and I repeated the standard “Hello?” greeting, but this time with an air of trepidation. It could, after all, be an ACTUAL person I would have to converse with in a strictly professional manner. The caller began to speak, utter one word that threw me into a mental panic “Spanish?” At first, I tried to convince myself that he was asking for someone named “Spanish”. Certainly he wasn’t expecting me to remember three years of high school Spanish and a few Nickelodeon shows to exchange meaningful dialogue? Ah, but he was. He answered “Um..Spanish?” to my partially freaked out “What?” In the next few nanoseconds, my mind raced and poured through what tangents I did remember from Spanish class, but nothing seemed to fit. How the hell did I convey to him “that I only had three years worth, and, honestly, the last one being a good 13 years ago. Surely my linguistic prowess in such things is non-existent!”
I cleared my throat and said “No” with as much sympathy and condolence as I could muster. Yet, it typical jackass manner, I managed to say it with an accent. I wasn’t aware one could accent a one-syllable word such as “no”, but I pulled it off. I could hear my subconscious justify this atrocity “Well, maybe if I say it like it’s a Spanish word, he’ll understand me.” Of course he would freaking understand me. He was probably expecting either “no” or “sí”. The caller hung up the phone and then it occurred to me “if only I knew how to say “But I’ll find someone who does!” in Spanish. It also occurred to me that I could have accidentally said the few words I do know and have confused the man, so I’m feeling pretty good that I didn’t. Way to go self. Way to not be a complete jackass this time!