Goin' to the Monkeys

I love monkeys. I rooted for Anaheim Angels in the World Series two years ago because of the Rally Monkey. I was saddened when they got rod of Marcel on Friends. I loved the monkey sprint commercial (bring home a movie-something old -- and he shows up with the monkey with a cold - I also like the current Sprint commericals with the kids who go over their macaroni minutes or have to guess how much they will play with the ball or the new girl who gets the good crayons b/c she's special since she's new - oh! but I digress) with Sprint Man (who I find strangely attractive, despite the fact that he's not my type, doesn't have arty hair, and doesn't appear to be a cynical asshole - again, I digress.) 

Yet despite my appreciation for primates, I was a bit disturbed to learn that I am only a brain damaged monkey.

And since this is a monkey topic, I highly recommend that everyone read Daniel Quinn's book Ishmael.  Brilliance.