Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Becoming one of us
Humans often ask me how to become an honorary gorilla. “GB,” they say, “you’re such a cool, fun-loving ape. How do I get to join your gang? I just want to hang out with you guys, chase some baboons and go to all your python-swinging parties. What do I have to do? Do you want me to bring you cocktails in your hammock? No problem. I’ll even massage your toes while you’re relaxing.”
My reply is always the same: “Tempting me with bribes is not the answer. You’ve got to earn our respect by finding your inner ape. Eat plenty of fruit and vegetables. Buy all the Tom Jones CDs and shake your booty to the beat. Move to the rhythm of the jungle. If you’ve got what it takes, our scouts will notice your talent.”
Most humans wait patiently for our decision, but every now and again we get a pushy character who tries to strong-arm us. I recently got a call from Hugo Chavez, the president-cum-dictator of
“Ai GB, when ju gonna make me a gorilla?” he demanded. “I doin’ everything like a gorilla. I beat my chest, I eat no meat, I tell that gringo chimpanzee Bush to go to hell. I even look like a gorilla!”
“Mr President, it’s not that simple,” I replied. “We can’t even consider you for membership while you hold high office. Gorillas must stand aloof from human politics.”
“CHINGA TU MADRE!” he shouted. “You think I leavin’ El Palacio just to join your club? I give you my cojones first!”
He terminated our conversation with that defiant offer. Between you and me, El Presidente will never be admitted to our ranks. There’s more to being a gorilla than thumping your chest and telling gringo chimpanzees to go to hell. It may surprise you to learn that we gorillas are rather fond of irony and understatement. We admire the human who can get his message across by raising one eyebrow, like Roger Moore or ‘Bones’ of The Enterprise. A blustering oaf like Chavez will never master subtle skills like that.
I should stress that it’s entirely feasible for a woman to become an honorary gorilla. Daryl Hannah received the accolade after starring in the film Splash. We were hugely impressed by her ability to wiggle her caboose inside a skin-tight fish tail. That takes some doing. What’s more, her adornments north of the tail were wholly natural, which is something we insist upon. One who fell foul of this requirement was Miss Pamela Anderson, who put her case to me in person at the safari camp.
“I’ve been a vegetarian since I was a girl; I’m a member of PETA; I’ve campaigned against the fur trade,” she said earnestly, as if reciting from a memorised script.
“All of which is most commendable, Miss Anderson,” I replied, “but there are other pertinent issues. Your...er…tangible attributes must be composed entirely of organic matter,” I said, trying hard not to stare at her breasts.
She looked puzzled for a few seconds, but then her face brightened in apparent comprehension. “Oh sure!” she exclaimed. “I only eat organic food from ethical farms. They grow their food ethically and treat all their workers ethically. It’s all very ethical.”
I scratched my neck while pondering how to make the point tactfully (and ethically).
“Are your breasts made of organic food?” I asked.
The blonde beach babe put her hand over her mouth and giggled. “Do you wanna eat my tits?” she asked saucily.
“Who wouldn’t, Pammy?” I replied. “But the problem is that we gorillas are incredibly allergic to silicone.”
“Oh,” said Pamela, looking disappointed.
“I’m sorry, Pam, but we can’t admit anyone with surgically-enhanced hooters. Our females would have a fit.”
“Oh well,” said Pamela sadly, “I’ll guess I’ll just have to throw my energy into bush conservation.”
It warms the cockles of my groin to report that Pamela continues to support our causes without the slightest hint of bitterness. What a pity that so many humans look down on her as an airhead and a harlot. Those who are wise know that brains aren’t everything and that sexual promiscuity is never a sin for the pure of heart. A woman may be the whore of
And to think when you said...
you’re such a cool, fun-loving ape....such a gorgeous primate, I thought...I thought...you could be my hero!
He might have foul-mouthed Bush and gotten himself on the world stage with a bunch of macho posturing, but he does indeed lack subtlety.
I imagine the likes of Steve McQueen would have been eligible for your club when he were alive.
It was all in the face with him.
Surely you aren't ..... are you? And if you are, wouldn't you say that melons rate higher than tomatoes?
Asym: A girl's gotta make a living, I suppose. Whatever one says about her false boobs, her bottom is A1.
Mosha: You bet he would. I love the way he bounced that ball in The Great Escape. It was practically a form of meditation.
Ratty: You are preaching to the converted, my good fellow. If you think she's been insulted, I suggest you study the piece more carefully.
Princess Stef: How you exaggerate, Princess! I look at a woman's soul, not her body. And genetically modified melons cannot compare with tasty organic tomatoes.
So where would the triple-breasted whore from Erogenous 5 fit into the equation? Slightly to the left of '=' I suppose, the right hand side being 'severely pissed'.
I understand fully how much you revere and appreciate this good woman.
My warning is directed to any foul mouthed bastard who thinks he can visit you site, slag off Pammy and disappear into the ether.
A gorilla may have a harem of wives!
In your polygamy life, are your arms stretched wide enough to hold them all? And throw in Pammy's boobies too. Can you manage the iron weight? Tell me and don't be shy now.
By the way, did I just see you starring in a Harpic advert for toilet freshner?
I recall an entry on these pages about "Sir Tom," but I didn't realize he had that much influence on your culture. Certainly, I could see the females of your species quivering as he tossed his sweat soaked handkerchief into the crowd, but you, GB? I'm amazed.
Who said anything about them being modified?!
And tasty they are. I think I shall do a post on that.
An Ode to natural Melons.
That ought to increase the traffic to Pixie Dust, think you not?
I've been doing all that for years, Nanas and not one scout has whisked me off to the Congo, although I did have a boy one do a bit of weeding once. Maybe it's because I'm moving to the rhythm of the jungle in the comfort of my own home. Perhaps I should take my booty shaking to parks and public places where the scouts might be strolling. It might be unpleasant for other people though, it might lead to a certain amount of being arrested for lewdery - I really dig some of these Tom Jones tunes, you see.
Mr Ratty: I'll be on the look out for them.
Susan: Yes, we have harems, but don't forget all the hard work involved. Her boobies don't look too heavy, but I'd rather carry you off.
Dr Joe: I was alluding to figurative cockles, Dr Joseph, my lower regions are currently in good health. I always turn down offers to appear in TV adverts, but one of my relatives may have been tempted.
Randall: Sir Tom is an honorary gorilla: I wrote about him here. Check out his brilliant excuse for infidelity.
Princess Stef: Yes indeed, I would love to read such a composition.
Kara: I wish you'd had the chance to see him perform live and throw your knickers at him.
Sam: You've got to do it outdoors, Sam, or it doesn't count. No one will whisk you anywhere, though, you'll just get a letter from the gorilla fairy.
Chris: It's Not Unusual is the ape favourite.
mj: So does Ayatollah Sistani. You've got to be able to move like a gorilla as well.
I have been puzzled for many years about the lyrics to "Green green grass of home" -- is it about a man on death row dreaming about going home to Merthyr Tydfil in a coffin? Or is it allegorical, implying that Heaven looks a bit like Wales? (minus the 72 virgins of course)
That aside, I will be ethical here and decline to mention my many (au naturel) attributes that would serve good reason for me to join your gang... have you seen me dancin'? I mean, REALLY dancin'?
Mutley: Try the Kennel Club instead. They don't mention silicone on their website.
Lady Daphne: Apparently it was a vision brought on by smoking the green, green grass of home. You can find an interesting version of the song here.
Miss Cheese: If you're trying to seduce me you're doing a very good job. I think we'll waive the subcription fee in your case.
Pamela for president!!!
Applause for the memory.
*shakes her booty and hopes her girl assets will do their job*
Some years ago when Mr.Jones was a much younger man, I took my mother, who was huge fan of his, to see him on stage. Imagine my embarrassment when at a point in the show my mother, who was quite carried away, removed her panties and hurled them at the provocative young man. He stooped down, picked up the flimsy garment, smelt them approvingly and placed them in his waistcoat pocket. As you might guess I was absolutely mortified. My mother begged me never to mention the incident. I kept this to myself until the day of my mothers funeral when I told the mourners the sad tale. They all had a bloody good laugh and it made the day quite memorable. I relate this story as my mother bore a striking resemblance to Pammy.
Goth: He understates it, they were like brothers. Elvis was also his devoted fan.
Queenie: How could I say 'no' to that?
Mr Ratty: Your mother looked like Pammy? No wonder your dad turned Rommel down. After sleeping with her, no one less than Rudolf Hess would have done.
Luke: No one apart from me knows what you're talking about! Welcome, anyway.
Ms Stiltwater: Welcome to the jungle, ma'am.
Mr Dog: As real as the hairs on my back.
Do you think If I lost weight I could maybe approach the howler monkeys and see if I could join up with them?
I snorted and said to her (a little angrily), 'Duh. No! It's written by a talking gorilla you frickin' harlot!'
As I recovered from the injuries I sustained from repetitive blows to the head by a frying pan-wielding ex-girlfriend, I came to the conclusion that it wouldn't matter either way. Was the book written by an ape who happened to be a literary genius? Yes. But as long as one gained wisdom from it it didn't matter who actually wrote it.
Though my knuckles also drag along the ground and I have a mild case of Hypertrichosis I know that I shall not be accepted into the ape community like the hero of the Edgar Rice Burroughs novels. Nor will I be close to the jungle creatures like the kid in that Rudyard Kipling novel. Like the delectable Miss Anderson I know that my path lies elsewhere, and living in the jungle is not where I need to be. At least, not yet.
I agree with Zuba, I think Pamela as President could do wonders for international relations.
Zuba: The noise would drive you nuts. What about all your native species? Those koalas look pretty laid-back to me.
Fatman: That book is so easy to read that it makes the reader feel intelligent. It's a bit like those 'Janet and John' books that taught children how to read.
Susan: I'm well, dear, and I hope you are too. We must share a carton of popcorn one day.
Goth: Bitch, bitch, bitch. Why can't you admire Tom for the great Welshman that he is?
Baron: I don't think they'd have a problem with breast implants, if that's what you're worried about. If not, we'd be pleased to consider your application.
Didn't know you had a book out GB, might have to get me one.
The eyebrow thing is usually used for annoyed surprise, I can just do annoyed ah well if it wasn't for these fake breasts of mine maybe I too could be a swinger.
Here here. I once knew a whore from Babylon and she was the most gentile. sweet natured woman you could ever wish to meet. I took her home and introduced her to my family - they all had the greatest respect for her.
She was a great shag too,
There visits ours, the irreverent and iconoclast of the world,
is in Catalunya - Spain
Http: // telamamaria.blogspot.com
Thank you very much for the visit
Have you considered going global with your Nipple Rub? I am willing to enter into a partnership with this product. I possess multi marketing skills and have access to markets as yet untouched by the mammary accessory trade.
I will also be eyeing mince pies with great suspicion from now on.
This woman is obviously a liar: she has decimated her own personal "bush" in the name of photographic shoots.
Knudsen: The single raised eyebrow is a difficult one for the Scots to master. It means anger for them because they can only do both together.
Mr Ratty: You know women like the back and front of your hand.
Aunty: Keeping your magnificent cantaloupes to yourself would be a terrible waste. It's about time you republished that photo of you in evening dress.
Ron: She sacrificed her own for the good of humanity, but she still cares about other people's.
This is not a problem as I am wealthy beyond decency. Please send me a tub of the elixir and I will give it a run tonight on Mrs. R. I will partake of an early dinner so as not to spoil my/her enjoyment.
Do you recommended that the jollop be used hot of cold?