tomoatmeal:

SCIENCE & NATURE

Monkeys don’t need haircuts.  That’s science.  And nature.  The hair on a monkey grows to that George Clooney length and then it just stays like that until the monkey either dies from old age or gunfire resulting from an escape attempt or a general outburst.

If the hair did grow, the zoo would be fools not to include a tiny salon area where people could go to watch the haircuts.  I don’t own any businesses – just a bike with no brakes, and I know that much.  In the salon there would be look books with several hair options and the monkeys could pick haircuts by pointing and screeching. 

They would sit in the chair and read a magazine with pictures and shapes while a stylist works away.  Any monkey who flips out or refuses to choose a look from the book is subsequently tasered into unconsciousness.  The monkey’s head is then shaved with a 4 guard and he is carried out of the salon on a tiny stretcher.

A neon sign flashes on, encouraging spectators to boo the fallen monkey.  And they boo, of course.

“Get out of here, you asshole!”

tomoatmeal:

It was another long day in the studio and I could see through the glass that tensions were running high among the rapping guys.  When they finally broke for lunch, I decided to approach them with a little morale booster.

“While I was waiting, I wrote down some superlatives,” I said, unfolding the list.  ”Little awards for each rapping guy.  I thought it would be fun to - 

“Don’t,” said the Two Pack Rapper.

“Okay,” I said.  ”I was just kidding around, anyway.  Totally joking.”

Back in the privacy of my office, I mulled over the situation for a long time before ultimately deciding that placing the list in any trashcan presented too high a risk of one of the rapping guys finding it later.  I was going to have to eat it.

With tears streaming down my face, I chewed the piece of paper until my jaws ached.

“Stop crying, you stupid baby!” I thought angrily.  ”You did this to yourself!  That’s right -chew it up good!  Eat it like the worthless idiot you know you are!”

When we bumped into each other again, it was clear that the rapping guys had absolutely no knowledge of my earlier meltdown.  The towel around my neck had done well to catch the mixture of ink and tears that rolled off my face.  It wasn’t the first time I had been forced to eat an incriminating document and without some help, it wouldn’t be the last.

THE END.

haha im 16 years old and i was born and raised in canada , i love to chill ….if u have any questions follow me