Sue SMASH!

A 300 pound chimpanzee named Sue caused a bit of a hubbub yesterday in Kansas City.  As reported by KMBC, the midday escapade was quite a “bizarre lunch hour”.  Here are some highlights:

…the chimp began pounding on his front door. The pounding shook the house. Michael Abron and his girlfriend were so concerned that the chimp would knock down the door or break windows that they scrambled to their roof. Abron armed himself with a weapon. “Oh my God, it was crazy!” Abron exclaimed.

A chimp pounding on the door?  Roof scrambling?  Weapons?  Tell me more!

The chimp at one point jumped up and down on a patrol car, busting the window.

I’ve always wanted to do that.  I wonder what Ice-T would have to say.  Anything else?

Animal control officers shot the chimp with a tranquilizer dart, but it was ineffective.

Damn straight it was.  You aren’t taking down a chimp with one lousy tranquilizer dart, especially when it’s in a cop-fueled hate rage.  What you do is simply open a cage for it to climb into.  Which it did.

There’s some pretty cool footage of the cop car smashing right here. 

You don’t want to miss it!

–Cap’n Blackjack

There we are, the Limejuiceboy and Cap’n Blackjack, on assignment at Boston’s Franklin Park Zoo for you, our loyal ape-obsessed readers. Because getting to know monkeys means getting to meet monkeys.

And we were most definitely up for the challenge.

We saw birds.  We saw giant cats.  We saw prairie dogs, rabbits, and bats!  And, of course, we saw monkeys.  If we could have reached through the glass to give them ribbons, we would have, but since we couldn’t without creating a tsunami of simian survival, I give you this:

The First Annual Franklin Park Zoo Awards!

First off, let’s start with a fun one, eh?  How about The Rodney Dangerfield Award?!

Nice, we’re all on board.  And the award goes to…

The Cotton-Top Tamarin!

Not to be confused with prop comic Carrot Top, the Cotton-Topper gets this award for two reasons:

1. The chirpy, twitchy, mini-monkey was just plain funny.  Especially when it looked like it was, ahem, pleasuring itself.  In a not-too-surprisingly hyperactive manner, I might add…  *pause*  Hey, whatever.  I’d be doing the same thing if I was in captivity.  Naked, bored, zero self respect…yep, sure would!  Wouldn’t you?
2. The little guy also gets (you guessed it):  NO. RESPECT.  None!  While all the gorillas, lemurs, and tapirs were getting all the attention, the poor little tamarin barely got any notice.  Even while masturbating.

A damn shame.

Okay, let’s move on!  What’s next?  Oh yes!  The Stank-Ass Award is always a favorite.  Who’s it going to this year?  Oh!  It’s those…

…Goddamned flamingoes!

You know those smells that seem to burn through your nostrils as if someone was pouring lighter fluid down them?  Yeah, that’s what these damn birds smelled like.  Can someone tell me:  Does all of Florida smell this way?  Because if so, I say we go forward with my proposed Canada for Florida swap.  Gun control and hockey ponds for elderlies and piles of nasty flamingo shit?

Sounds like a no brainer to me.

The Smokin’ Hot Ass Award is next.  And it goes to the monkey with the biggest, brightest, reddest ass I’ve ever seen!  And it’s name?

The MANDRILL.  Mandrill! Doesn’t that name sound cool?  Say it out loud now.  Mandrill! Reminds me of that MacCorkindale chap and his show Manimal.  Manimal! Wouldn’t it have been awesome if that combination of “man and animal/animal and man” changed into a red-assed mandrill to stop crime?  He’d bag the bad guys and then show the ladies his bright red ass to let them know he’s READY TO PARTY.

Now tell me you wouldn’t DVR that.

Okay, how do we follow up that?  With The Death to the Limejuiceboy Award of course!  And the winner is…?

The ring-tailed lemur!  This cheeky little non-monkey decided he didn’t like the Limejuiceboy’s pencil moustache and dove at his face to pull it off!  Of course there was a plexiglass barrier in the way and the little scamperer fell like a sack of potatoes to the floor where it sat dazed for a minute or two.  I’m pretty sure it’s fine (other than the whole captivity thing) but there’s also a lesson to be learned here.

Hate the Limejuiceboy’s little pansy-ass moustache?  That’s right.

Get a lemur.

The last award of the night is The You Betta Recognize This Bad Mother Fucker Award! And as you can probably guess, we give it to one big bad mother fucker!  This year that distinct honor goes to…

Kitombe the silverback gorilla.  Seriously, this guy was BAD ASS.  And he knew it.  I mean look at him.  He’s staring you down.  He’s telling you he’s stronger than you.  He’s more powerful than you.  He’s gets more gorilla sex than you (it’s true, we asked Paul the zookeeper).  He’s even got nicer hair than you!  Hell, his fur rivals that of Sean Connery.  Pretty impressive.  Which means…

You betta recognize.

You also had better recognize the fun that can be had at the zoo, even without kids.  Sure, it can be a bit depressing, but it’s also pretty invigorating to see such majestic creatures in person.  It’s just such a rare experience these days.  It was a nice change of pace.

Okay, that’s enough sappiness.  Here’s hoping you got something out of our trip to the zoo.  I know I did.  See you next year, folks!

–Cap’n Blackjack

Paul steered his faded light blue ’49 Harvester KB-2 pickup truck down the slithering backroad he took most mornings. The vibrant colors of dead leaves drying from the previous nights rainstorm scooped across the pavement behind Paul’s tires. It was a gorgeous early October morning, warm enough for Paul to consider wearing his t-shirt. But he decided against it.

The long-sleeved, forest-green, button down shirt would be comfortable, especially when the crisp breeze made an appearance in the mid-afternoon. Besides, his name tag was already pinned to the lapel: Paul, Senior Keeper. He sometimes wished it also read “Gorilla Guide”.

One o’clock. Paul had already been at work for six hours. His wife, Margaret, had packed his lunch, as she did most days when she wasn’t taking an early-morning walk or making an appearance at the golf club they’ve belonged to for thirty-seven years. Paul always liked it when Marg made his lunch. He liked to open his brown paper bag at noon, not always certain what the contents would be. He also enjoyed the staples, like baby carrots and celery sticks. Much like Kira and Kiki enjoyed their vegetables.

Paul read the veternarian report left in the zookeeper office, right off the gorilla habitat. There was a scuffle last week between Kit and Little Joe.

It ended up being more than it really was, but blood was drawn and L.J. did have a few cuts on his arm. Of course these things can happen, even in the most friendliest bands. And as Paul suspected, it was noting to worry about as long as Little Joe continued to take precautions against infection.

Paul took the comb out of his pocket. He held the teeth to his hair as he looked in the mirror. Nope, everything was in its place. It was almost two o-clock and Paul was nearing the end of his day. There was one more thing to do. One of the best parts of his job. While the band was being fed, Paul would answer any questions the visitors had. He hoped for some entertaining ones today.

Charlie the chimp, best known for sucking down cigarettes, has died in Mangaung Zoo in South Africa at the ripe old age of 52.  It’s a sad day.  And a lesson to all you kids out there.  Don’t smoke!

Charlie picked up the habit from conscientious South Africans who tossed their butts into his enclosure.  Which, you know, is really classy and level-headed stuff.  Not only are most of these animals endangered, but they’re living in captivity.  What’s a few lit cigarette butts to them?  Who cares?  Let’s make their lives as miserable as possible, right?  Hey kids, you watching?  Watching mommy and daddy?  Hey, stop crying.  Here, have a smoke.

Charlie soon began to mimic the hand motions of smokers by putting two fingers to his lips in order to procure more smokes and return to that place he loved best:  flavor country.  This led to more tasty butts, but also a fair amount of outrage from animal rights activists.  (Duh!)  The zoo then attempted to cut off his supply of cigs completely, but to no avail.  He kept on smoking until the day he died.

Surprisingly Charlie lasted ten years longer than the normal life expectancy of chimpanzees.  Which just goes to show that George Burns was on to something. 

Still, for all the joking I do about how awesome smoking monkeys are, I can’t help but see every washed-up middle-aged has-been outside every dive bar across America in Charlie’s mannerisms.  Smoking’s all he had to look forward to.  Well, that and his Marlboro miles.

When just smoking butts isn't enough.

Which makes me wonder…  Anyone know if he redeemed those?  I could really use a new duster.

–Cap’n Blacklung

Related Article:  Famouse Smoking Chimpanzee Dies at 52

Yep, you read that right.  The Limejuiceboy, Admiral Ape, and I are headed to the zoo this weekend to get some much-needed primate face time.  The Franklin Park Zoo in Boston, Massachusetts is our destination where gorillas are the name of the game.  According to the zoo’s website:

Visitors will not want to miss the indoor gorilla exhibit – the most innovative and intimate indoor gorilla exhibit in the world.

Getting intimate with gorillas?  Sign.  Me.  Up!

Gross

But those of us at Chimps Ahoy need help from you, our loyal, sexy readers.  We need questions!  Questions about monkeys, gorillas, and primates to ask the zoo’s friendly zookeepers.

Are you interested in the love lives of gorillas?  How about their bowel movements?  Or are other monkeys and their poo-flinging more your speed?  Let us know!  We’ll get the answers you’re craving.  Just drop us a comment below!

–Cap’n Blackjack

Me

A new report came out that shows for the first time, we humans observed that monkeys can in fact recognize themselves in a mirror.

Before that, only chimpanzees, elephants and dolphins had that unique ability of being self-aware.

Now, those rhesus macaques, which we have talked about here at Chimps Ahoy! quite often, see themselves in reflections without thinking it’s another monkey and therefore an intruder.

So what do the monkeys want to check out when they look at themselves in the mirror?

Their genitals.

Obviously.

-Oookjuiceboy

Related Article:
Monkey Mirrors

New Delhi, India is hosting the Commonwealth Games.  It’s like a mini-Olympics with the swimming, and the running, and the whatnot.  But there’s a serious problem threatening to ruin all the fun at the games…

Monkeys!

They’re everywhere in New Delhi.  They invade government buildings, homes, and now Commonwealth Game venues.  It’s a real pain in the baboon ass.  But the New Delhi Municipal Council (NDMC) has come up with an inventive solution to keep the simian pests at bay.

Monkey security guards!  Huzzah!

That there’s a langur monkey and he’s a bad mamma jamma.  The NDMC has 28 of them at their disposal and they’re actually increasing the number to 38 to help protect venues and VIP areas from monkey attack.  And before you laugh about the prospects of a monkey attack thinking it can’t be that bad, here’s a report from Asia One:

“In 2007, the deputy mayor of New Delhi died from a fatal fall after being attacked by a group on the terrace of his home.”

Not laughing now, are you?  Well, maybe a little, but still, why should India have all the fun here?  Why doesn’t America get on the monkey bouncer bandwagon?  They’re cheap, they’re fuzzy, and you can dress them up in funny little outfits!  Seriously, who wouldn’t like to see some meathead get tossed from a bar stateside by an angry monkey?

I mean, why should Eddie Valiant have all the fun?

–Cap’n Bad Mamma Jamma

Related Article:  CGames: Delhi deploys ‘super monkey’ security guards

…is NOT the answer.

Those right there are monkey dolls.  And if you buy one, a portion (What portion? Doesn’t say.) goes toward rainforest preservation.  Here’s a description of the dolls (something I am unable to do without a heavy dose of sarcasm):

Highly skilled artists craft these monkey dolls, which are not actually intended for children but rather for adult collectors, so that they have amazing lifelike features. The dolls, which depict baby monkeys, are posable, so you can set them up however you wish when you display them in your home. Collector-quality silicone is used to create the heads and limbs of the monkey doll. This silicone is used by the doll artists to create doll feet, hands and faces that are realistic when compared to actual monkey babies in the wild.

Wait, these things aren’t for kids?  What self-respecting adult would collect something that looks like THIS?

Or this?

Or thisssss?

And thank god that it is.

And not only that, but “amazing lifelike features”?  There is NOTHING LIFELIKE about these creepy little ape babies.  Onesies?  Bows?  A banana wagon???  What????  When all you have left to spend your money on is this, then maybe it’s time to, oh I dunno, GIVE THE MONEY DIRECTLY TO A REAL CHARITY WORKING TO SAVE REAL MONKEYS IN THE JUNGLE!  Like the World Wildlife Federation for example!

Jesus, people, one day thousands of years from now an advanced civilization is going to dig up a freaking monkey doll.  And is that how you want your species to be represented?  I can just see them now, sitting in a circle Crystal Skull-style, extrapolating on the meaning of ape baby dolls.  “Interspecies breeding most likely led to their downfall.”  Great.  Just great.  This is our legacy.  Half man/half ape babies.

And I thought gorilla porn was bad.

– Cap’n Bananawagon

Related Article:  Lifelike Monkey Dolls Support Rainforest Preservation 

Like television and film, it appears that Broadway has now given up on financing new and fresh ideas for the safety and security of known properties, fearful of investing a large sum of money on the unknown.   It’s a disturbing trend.  For every Inception we get about twelve crappy, lowest common denominator reboots, like the upcoming Smurfs and Yogi Bear movies.  For every Cats we get a Monty Python musical and even a Spiderman musical (with songs by freaking Bono for Christ’s sake). 

And now it seems King Kong is getting the stage treatment. 

The official name is “King Kong: Live on Stage”.  Probably because “King Kong:  Animatronic on Stage” was a bit too much of a mouthful.  It’s being created by Australia’s Global Creatures, no doubt spurned on by neighboring New Zealand’s fetish with the creature thanks to Peter Jackson and his overindulgent remake of the past decade. 

Carmen Pavlovic, the CEO of Global Creatures had this to say about the project:

“At its heart, ‘King Kong’ is a love story which is why we have chosen the more intimate space of a proscenium theater to tell this epic tale. We want to immerse the audience in the emotional journey of the book and music as much as the spectacle of our pioneering animatronics and puppetry.”

While part of me is a bit upset that there won’t be a man in a gorilla suit for the production, the idea of a gigantic animatronic King Kong going bananas on stage is pretty cool.  Still, it still saddens me that this is what entertainment has come to these days.  Part of what makes movies and plays and TV so cool is the wonder and mystery of it all.  The original King Kong was a revelation.  No one had seen anything like it.  But when you remake that story, and everyone knows what the story is in advance, it just seems like a lazy cash grab to take advantage of all the fans.

Like Spiderman the Musical.  I mean, have you seen these outfits?  Way to shed that gay image, Broadway.

–Cap’n Jackblack

Related Article:  King Kong Musical on Broadway: Giant Monkey Singing?

Muh-muh-muh-muhnkey....

Well, not really.

But new research shows that when given objects that have assigned value, in this case tokens, capuchin monkeys “inhibit their natural impulses and make more calculated, rewarding decisions.”

From MSNBC:

The study provides the first demonstration that inherently worthless tokens, such as poker chips or coins, help monkeys to make more strategic decisions under certain situations.

Monkeys will wheel and deal for peanuts — literally.

“Peanuts are the favorite food for all of the capuchins in our colony,” lead author Elsa Addessi explained.

As if I didn’t have enough competition at the poker table. Now I have to deal with these guys:

Do I double-down?

-Limejuiceboy

Related Article:

Poker Monkey