:: Monkey with a Laptop ::

:: 12/28/2004 ::

Why is the fucking internet attacking me?!?!

Before I start talking about this I want to forewarn any MAC using sunuvabitch who might feel like popping up and spouting off a bunch of unsolicited MAC ad-talk. Yes. I get it. MAC rules. Fuck you. I stole what I could steal. Now sit back down in your cubicle and fidget with your nuts while mumbling about Steven Jobs. You and the fuckin' Trekkies can suck my jungle loin.

Anyway, I have been slammed by this CoolWebSearch adware. I have downloaded every free spybot and adware remover, scrubber, cleanser, polisher and jacker I could find and nothing gets rid of it. I don't know who the shit guzzling sape was that designed this but I hope that somebody ties you down on a table sideways and allows a trickle of acid drip and burn a hole through one ass cheek and then through the other. Over several weeks you will be kept alive and forcefed antibiotics to keep the infection away but your keeper will keep reopening the wound with a mechanical pencil. Every Wednesday Southern Comfort will be poured through the tunnel created through your assfat. Then they will release you naked into a Comp USA and unwitting, casual computer users who have been frustrated and given high blood pressure by your creation can take turns whipping your supple, naked flesh with modem cords.

Now that I have vented, let me appeal to your higher brain functions. You are a terrorist. You got a pretty penny to design and constantly upgrade your adware. You're not even on the same level as some virus creating anarchist. In their own twisted way they are fighting the system. Not you. You create invasive, unwanted shit to push cell phones and trips to Barbados. You are scum. You're the lawyer who crashes a funeral. You're sape filth and I hope your friends find out what you do and abandon you.

Happy fucking New Year.

runko



:: Eric Peter Schwartz 3:58 PM [+] comment on runko's post ::
...

It has crept in like a stealthy assassin. It slipped into the gaps between things. Now it is in complete control of everything but the masses seem oblivious. While critics and a huge section of the general population and screaming their heads off about the stupidity of reality shows and the GLUT there of... something has quietly taken control of the airwaves... LIST SHOWS.

It was as if I fell asleep for 12 hours and woke up to find 90% of my television involve Michael Ian Black riffing on something. Just enough riffing to show he doesn't know DICK about it. And here's the worst part... I love it. As America quickly grows tired of watching attention starved sapes swill down liquified rat or get fired or have their singing ridiculed... some of us are falling in love with watching low and mid level celebrities ruminate on everything in entertainment.

It all seems to have come from the incredibly successful I LOVE THE 80's VH-1 franchise which spawed I lOVE the 70's , I love the 90's , I love the Plague Years, I really loved 1989 and (the one I'm waiting for) I loved The Reconstruction Period. VH-1 and nearly everybody else on the planet suddenly realized that you can shoot an entire series over the weekend and if you're good TWO series. How hard is it to get former MTV VJ Kennedy to sit down, throw a bunch of names, titles and concepts at her, record her responses and then keep only the good 15 comments (if she makes that many). Brilliant. Mr. or Ms "I Love" should win the Nobel Prize for Discovering the obvious.

So now all the networks or stations or what-ever-the-fuck you call them are doing it. Bravo, CMT, TNT, E, VH-1, TV Land. To top it off there is a group of about 12 celebrities who are in ALL OF THEM. On any given Sunday I can flip channels and see Hal Fuckin' Sparks on every other channel. Shit even the Iraq invasion last year was only on a dozen channels.

And here is where the genius of these shows really shines. I mean really. I'm not even giving you the reach around on this... you get NO INFORMATION. Really. You learn nothing. Hmmmmm looks like Biography. Shot like a documentary. WOAH!! I have just spent an hour listening to sarcasm, nostalgia and a bunch of commercials. Holy shit! Honest to God, no fucking around, more more more... brain candy. There's no pathos, ethos, emotion, motivation, shit even the lighting is iffy. I could edit one of these things together... it's really and truly NOTHING. Sound and fury signifying DICK! It is time filler. It's beautiful.

So, I have fallen in love with this new... thing. This quiet, unobtrusive monster that is now squatting over television's face making it suck its balls. I want more. More than that... I want to be on it. I want to have my soundbites added to the mix. Cripes! If only I could talk. If only I could watch my long, mate entralling snout appear on screen just after Mo Rocca and just before Rob Zombie. Then my evolution would be complete. Then I could die a happy boon.



:: Eric Peter Schwartz 3:49 PM [+] comment on runko's post ::
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I felt a great disturbance in The Force. It was like millions of free thinkers cried out and then suddenly silence. The only sound heard across the world at that moment was the lone rumble of a bulldozer starting up in Alaska. Now we have to sit and watch as members of the Bush cabinet fall away and are replaced like Law and Order characters. And if I have to hear anyone else say CONDI, I'm going to scoop out an alligator, drag it to their house and beat them to death with it.

Here's what I really don't understand about the voting public. From the placement of the RED states, it seems that Bush was voted in by people who get drunk in bars and say "you think you're better than me?" That means the only reason they voted for Bush and not Kerry is the Clampet factor. Yes both candidates are rich, powerful and think of themselves as better than they people they wish to rule. (They have to to run for office.) So it must be the YEEEHAW Clampet thing. Let's vote for the blue blood, power hungry rich man who talks like me! Not the blue blood, power hungry rich man that talks like them folks in Boston. GIT 'ER DONE!

And the minorities are apparently able to look past conservative bigotry (I won't say racist. That's overused. Hitler was a racist. Archie Bunker was a bigot) and vote them into power because of the gay thing. Gays... finally something people of all colors can hate. See, it's our commonalities that bind us together. Discussion of Old Fashioned Values makes me sick. Which old fashioned value do you prefer? The one where the wife is the property of the man and can be beaten, raped and even killed as long as just cause is found? Or the old fashioned value that says that the only voice that matters is that of a white gentleman of property. Idiots. Using "Old Fashioned or Family Values" as a euphemism for "we don't want faggots to have any rights because they are disgusting" is not only despicable and bigoted... it shows that you know it's wrong to feel that way. Why hide behind a euphemism. "Protect the sanctity of marriage" - my ass.

Let's not talk about the recent discovery of the alleged "gay gene". That would shoot intelligent design and God's plan and filthy in the eyes of the Lord all to hell.

Was one of John Kerry's campaign promises to force all marriages to become open, raging orgies? That all Americans should stop seeing each other as husbands, wives, sons and daughters and instead seeing them as mobile genital buffets? Fuck em if you got em. Give me a break.

So John Kerry will limp back to Washington and try to pick up the pieces of his life and career. Colin Powell will write another book. Michael Moore will turn his attention to something else (if he doesn't, he's just going to look petty) and I will go do the only thing that really relieves my stress... shit in my hand and throw it across the swamp.

:: Eric Peter Schwartz 11:08 AM [+] comment on runko's post ::
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I have to admit... in the VP debate the other night I thought Cheney said fatchicks.com which lead me to all sorts of trouble. It was factcheck. com actually factcheck.org and even that was wrong. What irony. Dick should have checked his facts on factcheck. And speaking of "fat chick" websites. Why is this treated like another sape fetish? Like it's something twisted to enjoy femsapes of larger build. Like it's a deviance. This isn't like having a thing for feet or being shat upon... it's large woman. Just an observation.

One of the real powers of the internet is that it empowers nearly everybody and allows them to have their voice heard. Because everybody has access to this power of course means... that every shit TV show that gets whacked by TV execs will have a loud, crazed and nearly violent fan movement to save it.

Don't get me wrong, I know that TV execs are short sighted much of the time and quality entertainment is dumped for cheaper crappier television. But let's not forget, this is television. It's not like it's... the movies. (I'm kidding). Look, every TV show has somebody who likes it. But if it's not making money, or getting in viewers... your mail campaign won't mean a dick in the ear to execsapes. Soem people even prepare "Save Our Show" campaigns when the show is doing fine, just in case. And sometimes before the series debuts.

Look, if you have such fantastic organizational skills that you can launch a successful fan campaign (and some do succeed...I know of several very successful fan campaigns)... fuck FARSCAPE... turn your attention to politics or human rights or FUCK anything! If you can rally the troops around some buttfuck TV show, you could change the world.

I understand that Amerisapes love their entertainment. Not a bad thing. Quality art...and even not so quality titty fart entertainment is what has separated you from the lower of us beasts. And more power to you. Back when I was a regular monkey the worst thing to do was tyring to find some way to enjoyably kill time... thus the shit flinging. But let's get our priorities straight okay: The US version of Coupling was shit. Nearly everybody thought it was shit. The actors have moved on. So has the rest of the world. So get your head out of your ass and find a different show to obsess over. Put that energy into something useful.





:: Eric Peter Schwartz 1:21 AM [+] comment on runko's post ::
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So...Ivan... fucker nearly killed me.

I'm here in the gulf coast area of Louisiana. Out in the swamp or the bayou or the bog...whatever the fuck you want to call it. I built myself a little shack and I am stealing power from some local lines. I have a beautiful little spot far away from prying eyes, but I can head over to Baton Rouge easy enough if I need something. The weather this last month nearly killed me. I got lucky. Lucky I was a monkey.

As the water levels rose, so did my shack. So I have returned to the trees and am living quite nicely in a tree house of my construction. That's it. That's all you need to know. I am east of Texas and west of Baton Rouge.

So I watched two boon movies back to back. How you may ask. Netflix bitch! It rocks. Anyway, the movies. Both feature boons prominently The Rundown starring the Rock and Lion King 1 1/2 (thich I've bitched about before). LK wasn't bad. Rafiki was again the crazy, weed smoking sage but we was nicely featured. I take back my preemptive disgust.

See, I can admit a mistake.

The Rundown on the other hand... There are two scenes with boons. Both feature slobbering, sex crazed boons running wild attacking sapes in the jungle. But because some boonwhore accepted the role of "monkey that craze-humps the Rock" people will no longer fear us because of large teeth or poor attitude. Healthy monkeyfear will be replaced by homophobia. It's bad enough that you'e being attacked by a feral baboon...but a humping, rutting gay monkey is terrifying. I'm ashamed of that baboon. Have some self respect. You're not a chimp for godsake.

They play it off as being about establishing dominance. It was, in fact, the most grotesque display of monksploitation I've seen. At least Kong got to feel up Jessica Lange romantically. Still a tender scene. Twas boobies killed the beast.

And I will admit, I have squeezed out a little boon gravy to Jessica Lange. She's got that come hither, do me silverback style look, even though she's screaming in horror. Wouldn't you, knowing that Kong wants to plug you with a member the size of a Chevy Caprice.

I'm not going to talk about the election. I am not going to talk about the election. I'm not going to talk about the election. Convinced. Please. Vote. That is all.

I will say this... I watched some of the debate. W came off looking like a ticked off 12 year old girl, clicking her tongue and saying "uhh... whatever...he totally voted to use force too!" the man just doesn't like to be questioned or called out in public. This is why he rarely, if ever hold press conferences. Sorry, Dub, you are the President and are accountable for your actions and your administrations actions in a public forum.

Kerry seems to have slightly more spark than Gore... he sucks less than dub. I wish I could vote. Anybody who wasn't planning to vote want to vote for me? I know. I know. You're still grossed out by the term BoonGravy. Well... fuck ya!

Anyway. More soon. I have missed our little chats. As I'm sure you have.

Lata

:: Eric Peter Schwartz 1:58 PM [+] comment on runko's post ::
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Whaddup Homeez!

Okay...that's was my one and only attempt at that. Let's get one thing clear...I'm a baboon. Okay. I'm a fucking monkey. It still doesn't excuse me from learning to write correctly. In fact it makes me try harder. I am afraid we are entering a world where writing is dead. Now don't start with the "Language is Alive...it changes" bullshit. I know that. I understand that. That doesn't mean we have to shoot it, stab it, kick it in the soft danglies and where it like a dead skin screaming "IT PUTS THE LOTION IN THE BASKET!!!".

What is this fucking monkey babbling about? Well I'll tell you. I can't watch TV. The only way I know what the hell is going on is through spoiler sites. And from what I can tell...Frasier went to Paris with Rachel and Chandler, Spike and Niles are all taking on the evil Law Firm of Wolfram & Hart. right? Nevermind...the point is...I rely on the internet for all of my information. Yes I know that's unfortunate...but it is, however, fact. I also rely on the internet for my entertainment. I have recently been hanging out at Fiction Press.

FP is a site that allows writers to post their fiction and poetry to the site. And there is a lot of good stuff there. However... I have to wade through canvas sacks of CRAP to find the really great nuggets. And I'm not talking about personal likes and dislikes. I would be a pretty petty boon to complain about there not being enough of what I LIKE on the web (I'll save my "You're over 30 stop bitching like a 13 year old in your blog" rant for later.). I'm talking about bad writing. I mean BAD WRITING. I'm all for being artistic...this shit is just lazy.

This is an ACTUAL story I pulled off fiction press, from the "Romance" listings. It is used without the author's permission:

" I sighed and picked up my bag. It was now lunch time yippee! I went to the regular spot under the tree where my friends and me always sat. Unfortunately I was the first one there so I took out a book and started to read it. I suddenly felt a pair of hands cover my eyes, "guess who" a voice said. I whacked the hand away from my face turned and said ' really Brandon this is getting old you do this every friggin day! ' But babe I know you love it' UGGH so cocky. ' So how was your day' 'That sounds so Brady-bunch married couple cant you be normal?' 'Oh Kay. wuz up?' ' That's much better.' ' My day was the same as always nuttin new, what about you?' ' well I made the team for Jamaica this year. not that I wasn't expecting it.' I always wondered why I was friends with Brandon better yet why he was friends with me. He was popular uh I was not. He won trophies travelled to swim meets all over the world, was on the t.v and in the newspaper. He was just cool. 'Um Sam you're having one of your Patrick Star moments again' 'Huh, what right.' ' You didn't hear a thing, anyway I gotta bounce see ya later.' And he smiled that infuriating smile of his that made all the girls swoon. I used to be one of those girls when I first met him.. Then I got to know him. Let's just say I'm glad I didn't date him or I'd have gotten a rude wake up call."

The author then gives a passioned plea to R&R (read and review), while talking about how it probably sucks. Now, granted, she's 15. I don't hold that against her (though she should know something about writing structure by sophomore year). Here's where I take issue. The story got reviewed. Only one person took the time to actually point out that each time a character talks, a new paragraph starts. That's a rarity. Usually the reviews are nice and casual. They say nice things or nothing at all, usually with as much bad grammar as the story. (And I won't even talk about the poetry.) Usually it's a shout out from an online fan: "Plllleeeeeezzzzeeee (I love the silent "e") update". If I could leave the children just one message it would be: CAPITALIZE!

Now believe me...I misspell things. I make mistakes. My concern is this; it used to be hard to get published. You used to have to work at getting things read by the masses. You would submit your work and it would get rejected. This would make you work harder, take classes, improve yourself and your writing. I'm not sure that blogging and internet publishing and sites like Fiction Press aren't lowering our standards. Lowering the quality we should be expecting in what we read. And I'm not talking about "classic" lit like Austen or Twain or any of that shit. I'm talking about everything. Even Penthouse Forum is proof read.

Boon out - till next time.


:: Eric Peter Schwartz 11:25 PM [+] comment on runko's post ::
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I am currently outside of Roe, AR of all places. The wheelbarrow, while awkward to travel with, and giving me the appearance of a circus attraction, is surprisingly practical. I am able to prop it upside down at a 45 degree angle against something and provide a fair amount of shelter from the elements, and it currently can carry everything I need. If I could get my hands on a little pup tent or something it would be even better. One of those free standing things. I don't have the upper body strength to drive stakes in, though I'm getting stronger pushing around this fucking wheelbarrow.

I haven't really noticed anybody following me. I seem to have escaped from Bald Knob clean. That's good. It's been months since I've heard from The Facility...maybe I am, indeed, a free boon.

I have been a little too busy trying to survive to jack into the world via the web. So little surf time has been done. All I know is the question that has dogged me since the final augmentation operation ended a couple of years ago..."how will it all end for Ross and Rachel". My money is on them being together...simply because I think you sapes have a soft spot for a love story. It's an admirable quality.

And maybe I'm getting soft, but that's just what America needs. We know we can't sweep in and occupy a country half-way around the world. But we need to know that love conquers all. That love can survive every contrived trap that a script writer can throw at them. America needs to know what they are fighting for...pretty sapes in love. When that dust covered soldier lives another day in Iraq, knowing that he or she is fighting a ridiculous war in the name of greed, at least they can look at their copy of TV Guide and know...there is a reason for this. Ross Gellar and Rachel Green would never have survived in Iraq. We are doing this for the beautiful people.

Yes, I am being extreme. I just want Amerisapes to look away from their plasma screens for a second to see that things are not looking too good. It's not the end or anything but, get up! You're late for work!

Please...read 1984...it's an extreme...but there's a section about how the government produces porn for the masses to keep them happy. Please think about it.

Gotta fly. Talk to you all soon.
:: Eric Peter Schwartz 10:49 AM [+] comment on runko's post ::
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It has been almost a year since I escaped from The Facility. Almost a year since I couldn't stop and had to keep running. It feels like such a long time ago. And now, I am on the run again. Just as the days were getting warmer and longer...I was spotted in Clem's backyard, taking a dump. I have been very careful but now...the jig is up, as it were. Clem has been clued in to the fact that a baboon has been living in his basement for the past 6 months or so...and Bald Knob authorities are after me. I'm fairly certain that soon county and state police will be tracking me down. Knowing you sapes - hunters, animal activists, and zoologists will also join the fray.

That is, if Bald Know authorities are believed.

The biggest problem is that, while it has warmed up, the nights are freezing. I was able to lift some clothes and blankets and I am travelling, pushing a small wheel barrow that I lifted from Clem. (How funny - a year out and I already can't travel without luggage.)

So, needless to say I am moving none to fast and under cover of darkness. The worst part of all this is that farmland hasn't started growing yet. I have to try to make it across big open fields without being seen.

I am currently outside Maberry, AR and making my way south. I will have more to write later.
:: Eric Peter Schwartz 9:30 AM [+] comment on runko's post ::
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If there is anybody out there who is planning to see The Lion King 1 1/2 - keep me posted. Let me know if Rafiki gets any screen time. He is one of the few positive Baboon film portrayals. And when I say "positive" I mean "FUCK YOU DISNEY!" Here The Dis gets a chance to take a Baboon and really make them shine, make him a wise, sage, Yoda of a character and INSTEAD they make him a prancing, singing maniac with some streak of Shamanly spirituality. He just acts high. Watch the movie and tell me that Riffy isn't eating some funny fungus from behind the barn.

So let me know if anything important goes on in the new Disney "I'm Out of Ideas...Please Help-a-thon".

So 2004 is the year of The Monkey. How better to celebrate that by slapping a cartoon monkey on the ass of some underpants.
Can you blame me for getting excited over this headline: Lunar New Year Makes Monkey Undies Hot. Cripes! The words Monkey, Undies and Hot all in the same sentence!! I thought it was my lucky day. I thought finally I could get some relief. I still have no good porn to deal with. Trying to paddle the boonstick to what you sapes call porn is horrible. First of all, I'm sure there are a few of you who might feel the nether-squirmies by looking at pictures of other species...but it's not easy. So all of my autoerotic behavior is laced with the desire to upchuck...

I do have a newly aquired online friend, Fadedstar, who seems to have a sister who is a zoopimp. I have a feeling she's lying. Plus she wants to hook me up with some hoboon named Crunchy. I really don't want to slip the boonstick into anything "Crunchy". After that I could move on to Leathery and Dusty. And no pictures! I need to see pictures before I make the trek to meet Crunchy is some dingy Zoocage, display my erection, pound my chest and pumpa da monk.

Of course beggars can't be choosers. Fadedstar chould probably send me a room temperature jar of Smuckers apple jelly and I'd get aroused...HEY! 12 seconds in the microwave.

So, Ben and JLo...goodbye. I'm slightly sad. They have been like my touchstone since I left The Facility. No matter where I was or what I was doing, I could always count on them to be in the news. Now what will I do?

Clem is doing well. No one has caught on to me yet.

Talk to you soon.
runko
:: Eric Peter Schwartz 3:02 PM [+] comment on runko's post ::
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I am one fatass Baboon!!

My stay with Clem is going swimmingly, to say the least. I celebrated my first Christmas of freedom scarfing down left overs from his Christmas dinnerS...ham, potatoes, 7 layer salad, some holliday casserole...plus all the stuff his friends and neighbors brought over. I can't believe the generosity of some sapes. Clem weighs in at about 105 pounds. He won't eat all this. In fact I have been helping myself to more than he's giving me, and there's still tons.

Clem got me a couple of chew toys for Christmas. I have made sure to squeek them every once in a while, just to keep him happy.

I have also been spending a lot of time surfing, and writing, believe it or not. I have been writing some Tarzan fan fiction. I hate that loin cloth wearing some of a bitch, and all of my fan fiction ends with some sort of grisly end for the vine-dangling dick. Needless to say, all of my Fan Fic submissions have been blacked or flamed. People are so fucking touchy about their icons.

Tarzan is one of the loudest and most ridiculous symbols of sapekinds domination of Animalkind. From the gorillas I have met, that infant would have been smacked against the side of a tree like a bag of ice that needs to be broken up. I've heard sape babies. One of the loudest things on the planet. No gorilla would do that. Okay maybe that Binti Jua gorilla in Chicago in 96, but not in the wild. There is a reason that they have never had an ACTUAL gorilla play Tarzan's mom. I have no idea why sapes keep remaking this piece of crap. Cartoons, TV shows, movies. I know why, I guess. Because, now, sapes want to use it as a "protect the rainforests and its creatures" message, which is noble. They apparently don't see the inherent message of the story; White Men may be raised by animals - but he will rise to control them...(by yowling apparently.) It's like Darwin and right wing Christians got together and drew up a plan. PLUS he's got a pet chimp, who is named Cheetah and usually whores himself out for comic relief. The animal equivalent of Step n Fetchit. Is there any reason for me to go on?

So, you sapes finally got something to land on Mars other than your shattered, unrealized dreams. Well done. Visit the official Mars Rover website for more info. I was starting to think you guys were spending to many night smacking it to Striperella to land it. Of course, those strong wrists might have helped control your descent. HAHAHAHA Sorry...that was a cheap joke, but it made my new year.

So I begin my second year of freedom...as a house guest. I have to admit that I am itching to get back on the road. I miss the sights. For now I have only paneling and black leather couches...and lots of free food. I'm going to have to start an exercise regiment. I have, in case you were worried, mastered the toilet. Speaking of which, I haven't flung crap in weeks. Since I have to live here, quietly, I can't go chucking my chunks everywhere. Sigh. Retraint. I miss the days in South Dakota, throwing shit from atop Lincoln.

Talk to you soon.


:: Eric Peter Schwartz 1:34 PM [+] comment on runko's post ::
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