by Jon Waldrep
“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
Facebook, 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.
My doctor says I need to lose 50 pounds, so yesterday I started using the Wii Fit again. Instead of the cheerful, animatronic greeting I remembered, I was greeted with, “What the hell! Do you think you can just waltz back here after all this time and start over? Do you? Well, let me tell you something, buddy boy, it doesn’t work that way! Where have you been? You heard me! Where the hell have you been? Well? I’m waiting!” I guess it’s been a while.
When it's cool to lie about your weight; your drivers’ license.
When it's not such a good idea to lie about your weight; pre-bungee jumping information form.
I think that when we eat way too much of the wrong kinds of foods (and then feel completely miserable), that it’s the body’s way of taking a metaphorical, rolled up newspaper and swatting us around while saying, “Bad body! Very bad body!” Some learn early on from that lesson in cause and effect, while others of us take much longer to figure it out and thus find our bodies in the fat person’s doghouse.
Five signs that you may need to lose weight:
1. Baby ducks instinctively line up and follow you when you walk by a pond.
2. You made the mistake of getting a booth instead of a table at your favorite restaurant, and they needed the jaws-of-life to extract you.
3. Your ass is big enough to affect weather patterns and may be contributing to global warming.
4. Great Britain and Argentina are both considering claiming your land mass as sovereign territory.
5. To you, a serving size is what will fit in a salad bowl.
More signs that you need to lose weight:
1. Have you ever eaten anything resembling a 5th grade science experiment you found hidden away in the back of your fridge?
2. Have you ever pretended to be on your cell phone while at a Chinese takeout to “ask your friend” what they wanted when you were really just getting a second order for you?
3. Have ever used the word “calories” and the term “Monopoly money” in the same sentence? 4. Do you buy clothes that will compliment your gut and butt crack rather than try to hide them?
5. Have you ever had two theme park attendants pushing down on your roller coaster safety bar with all their strength so it would lock in place?
6. Do you have more than four pizza delivery places on speed dial?
7. Has a flight attendant ever moved you to another seat to “balance the load?” Have you ever had to lie on the floor and use a pair of pliers to zip up your jeans?
Facebook, Computers and Technology, Oh My
The vast majority of things I have written here are things that I have posted on Facebook. Hey, when you have eighty friends (you heard right, eighty, EIGHT-ZERO) there is pressure to perform. Sometimes I get three or four ‘likes’ from one posting (Yes, you heard right again). I used to have a Twitter account, but I realized it wasn’t just to send electronic Haiku messages and it lost all of its coolness for me.
If you like my Facebook posts, you agree that I can access your public profile, friend list, dental records, current city, nude baby pictures, birthday, the video you made with your last “special friend,” personal descriptions, social security number, likes and your friends’ interests, that key under the mat, photos you have posted, footage from your appearance on Cops, songs you have listened to or shared, images from your toenail fungus removal procedure and the size of any recently purchased undergarments.
Remember when we had AOL dial-up in the late 90’s and would wait patiently for that super-cute image of ten frisky kittens in a basket to appear? Or we would wash the car while we waited
to download that short video of a skateboarding teen leaving his testicles behind when he attempted the slide-down-the-handrail trick? Now, if takes more than a nanosecond for us to start streaming that nine-hour video on the nesting habits of the artic loon or download the complete works of Salvador Dali in 3-D, we freak out.
So, I have divided the group of “people you may know” that Facebook offers up into 4 basic categories:
1. People who I do indeed know, but want to be friends with about as badly as I want to remove my own wisdom teeth.
2. People who I may have heard something vague about either through friends, via restroom graffiti or on a third world infomercial.
3. People who I have no clue about and who are clearly friends of friends or family seven times removed or in prison.
4. Imaginary friends, cartoon characters and Kevin Bacon.
I want to call tech support for my computer and tell them I haven't been able to use my computer for two days because I need the cursor to go just a little further to the right, but my mouse is right at the very edge of the mouse pad! Help!
People who only post pictures of themselves that they take themselves in their bathroom when they are by themselves really (really) need to get out more and make some friends. MAYBE A FRIEND WITH A CAMERA OR A SKETCH PAD AND A SHARPENED #2.
You can never be too rich, too thin or have too many flash drives...
We cut our cable service to next-to-nothing because we knew we could get by with Netflix, Hulu Plus and our Roku devices. But when Comcast said we would be getting minimal programming and some obscure channels, I didn’t know that they would include such gems as: The Ginsu Knife Channel (one infomercial from the 1970s played over and over again. If you added some Michael Bolton music in the background, it would be the Hell on Earth Channel); The All-Girl Scandinavian Debate Channel features tall, leggy blonds with names like Ingrid and Petronella talking about the relative merits of a market based economy versus a centrally controlled economy (Note: I actually watch this one); Hermit Crab Fight Club! This involves staged fights between trained hermit crabs. Unfortunately, as the hermit crabs don’t actually fight, it is fair to say that the tension is not palpable.
