Saturday, July 31, 2010

99 Red Baboons

If I were God, the Baboon would have made me throw away my box of latex gloves. "Triumph" I would have said in my booming baritone voice. "Utter triumph."

Whimsical, ferocious, rapacious love-making machines, worshiped by society after society after society after society, the elegant Papio is unrivaled in the animal kingdom, with a consummate balance of subtlety and poise, and multiple transferable parasites. For millennia they have triumphed against the swelling tide of mankind's destruction, always partaking in unbridled frenzies in the organic-matter treasure troves we call trash bins.

Females especially, whose heart-shaped bottoms so poetically convey their disposition, are the last remaining beacons of love in the wild. It is this ruby tukus that sets the standard for all inflammations of the rear, from this to this and of course this.

Socially, Earth offers no greater model. Baboons fancy themselves sexual connoisseurs, accomplished goat-herders, and skilled craftsmen. While most of their societies offer limited accommodation, their harems are open 24/7-- for good cause. Like the School of Athens, the Baboon-Harem is a unique triumvirate of philosophy, math, and orgiastic howling. It is precisely because of this cultural elegance that the Baboon remains the most difficult monkey to harness for labor.

For instance, no baboon has ever been launched into space. Their anatomical make-up and sexual prowess makes them incompetent navigators. Gordo the Space Monkey, a South American Squirrel/Monkey, pitiful in most respects, was selected instead. On a side note: he along with his $19 billion space craft were lost somewhere in the abyss.

So yea. Monkeys are funny.

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