Monkey with a Laptop

:: Monkey with a Laptop ::

I am a genetically-augmented, highly intelligent Yellow Baboon. In 2003 I escaped from a secret military facility in New Mexico. I lifted this laptop on the way out.
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:: 5/27/2003 ::

So I am back on the run with my Toro utility vehicle. I am now covering much more ground than I was. I have decided to head north into Wyoming. I know that my vehicle won't make it over the big parts of the mountains going that way, so I am trying to stay in the lower country. I managed to scrape together some food and some supplies on the way. I am travelling mostly at night and hiding during the day.

I have, however, found a travelling companion. A rabbit I have named Carl is now travelling with me. He's not genetically altered or anything. It's just nice to have the company. And NO for you sickos out there, Carl hasn't received a monkey hump! In fact when my food runs out, Carl should keep me alive for a few days. Unlike some sapes I've read about I don't tend to stick my boonstick in things I might eat.

I haven't had much time to surf lately. I have been visiting a few blogs and some news sites. Still no luck on finding a nice, graphic "Baboon Mating Habits" website. I know this was a long weekend for Amerisapes. Traffic seemed unusually high here in the foot hills. Lots of humans escaping their lives for a few hours. Trying living out here. You'll see how quick you go running back to your lattes and X-Boxes. To be fair, I understand the need for freedom. It took me a while.

See, I was born in captivity. My parents Bonnet and Jackson Browne (again names given by the dorks at the facility) however were not. Once in a while I would notice them staring into nothingness, possibly with images and incomplete thoughts about their time in the wild. I hope I am making my parents proud. Unfortunately, because they themselves were not augmented, they have probably already forgotten me. You'd be surprised how fresh fruit and regular sex can cloud your mind.

Maybe it's the fact that I'm a fugitive. That I have to avoid sapes that makes this all suck like Detroit crack whore (I don't know what that means really. I saw it on a message board about The Matrix: Reloaded. I just like the way it sounds.) Maybe if my freedom wasn't so stressful, I could enjoy sleeping under the stars, scaring cattle and tooling around the mountains in a vehicle made for a golf course.

As I write this Carl is asleep in the rear. I have swiped some gas from a truck stop. Truck drivers are so wired that I figure they see monkeys running across the interstate all the time. They just ignore it.

I promise I will write again soon. And please...if you are going to post to my message board and scold me for not posting enough, please avoid making comments about my ass. I'm really, really sensative about it. I'm trying to find some pants. Really.

Later, runko
:: Eric Peter Schwartz 10:08 PM [+] comment on runko's post ::
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