Monkeys Wearing Pants

Read Monkeys Wearing Pants Online

Authors: Jon Waldrep

Tags: #Comedy, #Humor, #General


If it’s wearing pants, it may or may not
be a monkey.”

Monkeys Wearing Pants

Funny
rants, riffs and meaningless musings

by a guy you don’t know

By Jon Waldrep

Smashwords Edition

Monkeys Wearing Pants

Copyright 2013 Jon Waldrep

Smashwords Edition

Table of contents

Intro

A Weighty
Notion

Faceboo
k, Computers and Technology,
Oh My

Randomness

Famous Last
Words

Getting
Older

Travel

More Random
Randomness

Jobs &
Working

We Are
Family

This Is The End. The
Final Random-O-Rama-Dama

Intro

Greetings!

First of all, thank you for taking the time
to check out my eBook (note to self: I have just royally screwed
myself over if this ever gets published as a real book!). I would
like to say that I slaved over a hot computer for years to write
this, but that wouldn’t be true. Rather, this is more like a
casserole you put together at the last minute when you are trying
to get rid of things in the fridge before they start looking like a
sixth grade science experiment gone terribly awry. I don’t know if
that makes sense, but now I’m worried that I am just making you
hungry rather than talking about the literary feast you are about
to indulge in. OK, maybe not a feast. Think pigs-in-a-blanket and a
Home Depot bucket filled with cheap Sangria.

I have cobbled together things that I have
written for blogs, things I have posted on Facebook, restroom wall
scrawlings and some nuggets from letters I received while in
prison. Just kidding about that last part. I never got a single
letter in prison. OK, I confess, I have never actually even been
close to being in prison except for that time I tried to break into
the women’s prison in Chowchilla, California for a Sadie Harkins
dance that I was not actually invited to attend. Yes, a major
social faux pas and apparently a felony if caught.

But I digress.

I hope you enjoy some of this stuff. If I
can make you chuckle a few times I’ll be happy. If I can get you to
spit up coffee mid-sip because you read something you found to be
really funny, I will do a victory dance around my sofa (like three
times, let’s not go crazy here). In any case hopefully there is
something you find amusing because, frankly, that is kind of the
point. If you enjoy reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing
it, then we have created a new math problem that will freeze some
kid’s brain.

Thanks again,

Jon Waldrep

A Weighty
Notion

I write a lot about
weight, mostly because I have an abundance of it to write about.
While I don’t need to buy airplane seats two at a time (or even use
the dreaded seat belt extender), the little tray on the plane can
leave an indentation in my stomach that lasts for two days. In any
case I understand the yo-yo weight gain and loss that comes with
trying a never ending variety of diets.

I want to lose weight. I want to do it my
way, the right way, like if I’m in a prolonged coma or lose a limb
at lumberjack fantasy camp.

OK, when your 'fat' clothes start getting
snug, you know you have a problem. Getting dressed this morning was
like trying to squeeze an eggplant into a condom.

Signs that you need to lose weight:

1. You need an oxygen tank nearby after you
put on your socks.

2. You're willing to risk dislocating your
shoulder for that French fry that fell under your seat in your
car.

3. Little kids point at you and say, “Look,
Mommy! Bounce house!”

4. Your bathroom scale flashes 'FU' when you
climb on it.

5. You are looking at the 'People of
Wal-Mart' website and see a butt crack that looks very, very
familiar.

6. They give you four sets of plastic
utensils with a takeout order that's only for you.

7. You finish off that large pizza while
sitting on the toilet.

8. The only way you can keep your shirt
tucked into the front is to super glue the bottom to your pubic
hair.

9. You see a $5 bill on the ground and debate
whether it's worth bending over to pick it up.

10. They make you sign a waiver at the
all-you-can-eat buffet.

Twinkies are back, thank God. There just
aren’t enough high calorie snacks made from cellulose gum, Sodium
stearate and calcium sulfate. And where else can you get a creamy
filling made of shortening and Polysorbate 60? Yummers!!

A friend has convinced me to try this lemon
juice detox regimen. It calls for drinking a mixture of water,
lemon juice, cayenne pepper and maple syrup. You drink it for ten
days...or until your ass falls off. I’m going to try it, but I
think I am going to substitute beer for the water, lemon drops for
the lemon juice, spicy chicken wings for the cayenne pepper and
maple bars for the syrup. Wish me luck!

Pick up lines for fat guys:

1. In case you were wondering, yes, I'm jolly
as Hell.

2. If you want, we can go do laundry
together. I have a whole roll of quarters where my belly button
used to be.

3. No promises, but after rolling around with
me, most women say their cellulite flattens out nicely.

4. Just close your eyes and pretend you're
doing it with two moderately stocky guys.

5. I'm not saying I'm desperate. Oh hell, yes
I am.

6. Think! Doing it with a fat guy has to be
somewhere on your bucket list!

7. My new bumper sticker says, “Honk if
you're Homely.”

8. Don't think of me as a fat guy; think of
me as your own personal bounce house.

9. I want to get hot and sweaty. I would just
rather get that way with another person in the same room.

10. Yeah? Well, I may be fat and you may be
beautiful, but you'll be ugly when you're old and I'll be dead. So,
ha!

Is it large, all-meat pizza a cold,
24-hour-buffet a fever or the other way around?

Going to the gym is not for everyone. I say
if you really hate the gym, don't go. Not going is better than
driving mind-numbing circles around the parking lot until the
parking space right next to the entrance opens up. If you spend an
hour watching TV from a treadmill going so slowly it makes the
revolving restaurant at the top of the Seattle Space Needle seem
like a demonic roller coaster ride, then you really shouldn't
bother going to the gym at all.

I'm trying to lose some weight but you know
what they say, the last 87 pounds are the hardest.

Five things that are going to happen if I
don’t start losing weight:

1. People are going to start calling me
saying, “Dude! I just saw you on Google Earth!”

2. The lights will mysteriously go out, and
the front door will lock when I pull into the all-you-can-eat
Chinese buffet.

3. I will get offers to be the “before”
picture for the latest diet pill.

4. The only pants I’ll be able to wear are my
faux sweat pant jeans.

5. The bungee jumping company will have me
sign a release and sell me life insurance before I jump.

Will the gremlin that is sneaking into our
house and systematically taking in the waists on all of my pants
please cease and desist? C'mon!

Holy Crapola...when did I gain all of this
weight? One day you look in the mirror and see a distressing
version of the Michelin Tire Man looking back at you. Where once
you might have been lean and mean, you now find that your gut hangs
over your belt like a deployed airbag and your ass has become an
overfilled waterbed mattress that rolls in and out like the
tide.

I love those 100-calorie packs of cookies,
crackers and sweets. I think they are a great way to satisfy your
sweet tooth without overdoing it. And the cool thing is that you
can keep track of the calories just by doing some pretty simple
math. Every day, I eat exactly 100 of those bags because I know
that’s only…hang on…carry the 1....100 of those bags is
only…hmmm…wait a minute! OH CRAP!!! CRAP!!!! Seriously? OH
CRAP!!

Reading food labels will kill you. Everyone
is always freaking out about food labels. Why? Because every few
weeks, the media launches a new blitzkrieg about the newfound
dangers of some food additive or some ingredient that is up to no
good. Saturated fat? That stuff will kill you faster than a gang of
truant East LA teenagers. Cholesterol? Might as well stick a cherry
bomb with a short fuse up your ass. Gluten? I don’t even know what
that is, but I’m guessing it’s better to freebase crystal meth that
has been deep fried in peanut oil. People want to know if they
really need to read all of those labels. They think they should,
but then confess that they have no idea what any of that stuff
really means. They ask hard-hitting questions. What’s a serving
size? How important are things like calories, fiber and sodium? And
what the heck does “natural” mean? OK, here’s my take.

Food labels are like the fine print on your
mortgage, your pacemaker service contract, that new car warranty or
your prenuptial agreement with Miss Tater Tot 2004…that is to say,
not very important. Manufacturers put stuff in cans, boxes and
Ziploc bags. We open those and eat the stuff. Rinse and repeat.
There’s no rocket science involved unless you are actually eating
freeze-dried space shuttle food. Still not convinced? Really? I’m
pretty sure that ingredient labels are really just filler that’s
used when the manufacturer runs out of pretty pictures. Having said
that, here’s the Cliff Notes version of what the things mentioned
above really mean.

Serving size: Take whatever the package says
for serving size and throw it out the window. The correct serving
size is however much it takes to fill a medium-sized salad bowl.
There are two exceptions. The first exception is popcorn. For
popcorn, you find and fill an industrial-sized trash bag the size
of a twin mattress. The second exception is tofu. For tofu, you
fill a thimble, eat half, spit that crap out and throw the rest
away.

Fiber: Varying degrees of fiber in your diet
are like different road construction workers. If you eat a lot of
fiber, you are on the concrete crew, building those solid barrier
walls. If you just eat a little fiber, you’re laying down asphalt,
hot and gooey asphalt. No fiber? You’re the old, gimpy guy that
comes along last with the sputtering garden hose. Also, look at
nature. Beavers eat branches and bark, and they poop out Lincoln
Logs. To get enough fiber, you should probably eat, not read, the
label. You’ll know if you are getting enough fiber. If you’re
pooping out something akin to a three-day-old Jamba Juice that’s
been left in a hot car…not enough fiber. If you’re pooping out an
erector set building with a miniature working elevator, maybe too
much.

Sodium: Sodium means salt. Salt comes from
the sea. Man evolved from the sea. We started out as little sea
monkeys and then evolved into walking fish, standing fish, giddy,
little newts, lizards, cab drivers, monkeys, monkeys who started
parting their hair on the right and, finally, people. Salt is good.
The Bible even talks about salt and gives it two holy thumbs up.
So, when you are reading that label, remember that sodium is
literally the salt of the earth and good for you. Keep beer
handy.

Natural: This one is easy. Natural means made
on the planet Earth, not in outer space or some other warped
dimension in time or space. A natural product comes from somewhere
on the globe. Would you rather eat something great from America’s
heartland, like apple fritters or pop rocks, or some crap that has
been imported from a distant star, milked out of a green,
three-headed monster’s udders or fried up in a Poltergeist
hamburger stand? With Earth-made, natural foods, you know you are
getting the best sugary, high-calorie, chock-a-block with
preservatives stuff in the universe.

So, the next time you see a food label, give
it the same thought and consideration you would a zit in the middle
of your back. You know it’s there, but it’s not going anywhere. And
you’re not going to worry about it.

So we started a
Biggest Loser
-type
competition at work today and had our official first weight in.
Ironically, today I chose to wear my lead-lined briefs, 1978
platform shoes and a soaking wet alpaca sweater. I’m not saying
that I'm trying to give myself an unfair advantage, but I WILL
WIN!

So, I'm thinking of starting this all-garlic
diet. Nothing but raw garlic, cooked garlic, and food cooked with
an abundance of garlic. I don't really think I'll lose weight, but
I'm pretty sure I'll look slimmer from a distance.

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