My response was something along the lines of “NO NO NO MONKEYS ATE HER FACE.”
Listen! There are a lot of very real dangers out there you have to beware of. I did research on this! MONKEYS CAN EAT YOUR FACE AND HANDS.
Now, I know, there are people reading this who are going to get all up-in-arms and tell me “Chimpanzees aren’t MONKEYS. Chimpanzees are PRIMATES. There is a VERY REAL DIFFERENCE. We have almost IDENTICAL DNA.” And you know what? I’m totally aware of that. Because I’m very intelligent. However, I call anything monkey-like a monkey, from the humble spider monkey, to the terrifyingly distressing baboon with the scary blue backside, to chimpanzees and orangutans and gorillas. I’m well-aware they’re not all monkeys. But it’s one of my quirks, to call them all monkeys. It’s not like I’m publishing in a scientific journal, here. So if it’s really bothering you, go read Scientific American or watch a documentary or something.
I’ve mentioned before, I am petrified of monkeys, with their cunning fast hands and destructive ways and evil beady eyes.
Here’s the thing. I’m going to put this in caps AND put stars around it AND put it in bold-face type, because it is JUST THAT IMPORTANT. Ready?
***WILD ANIMALS ARE NOT PETS***
They are WILD ANIMALS. They belong (best-case scenario) in the wild, or next-best, in a zoo, or last-best, in the basement of your weird uncle whose hobby is taxidermy and smells a little like feet. They do not belong to you to cuddle or play with or put on a leash. The word “wild” is in the phrase “wild animals” for a reason. We have domesticated animals. They are meant for pets! NOT WILD ANIMALS.
Do you remember the time the cops in New York City went to some guy’s apartment and found that he had a tiger and a crocodile living in it? THAT WAS STUPID. Why do you think that’s a good idea? Even my housecats sometimes get the heebie-jeebies and attack my hands and/or cleavage. A tiger does that and you suddenly are one-breasted, like an Amazon woman. And really? A crocodile for a pet? That’s just odd. Crocodiles can’t show love. They are reptiles. They aren’t in the least bit cuddly. I mean, I know, not all pets are cuddly. I worked at an exotic pet store for a while, and I do get the appeal of having fish or a frog or a lizard for a pet. But not one that can eat you! Not one that takes up your whole bathtub all the time! Not one that eats entire chickens for dinner!
So listen! This is important advice I am giving you. If your friend invites you over, and they are a little eccentric, like Grey Gardens-y, and they say, “Hey! Want to see my baby?” and they bring A GODDAMNED MONKEY out of the back room, RUN AWAY FROM THEM. First, because people that call pets their “babies” non-ironically are super-scary. Yes, I do it sometimes. But IRONICALLY. I’m aware I didn’t shoot my furry kiddos out of my vagina. Second, THAT MONKEY WANTS TO EAT YOUR FACE. It might happen today, it might happen tomorrow, but sometime in the future, that monkey is going to eat your face and you are going to be on a YouTube video looking like Resuscitation Annie with the immovable plastic surgery face because you forgot that WILD ANIMALS ARE NOT PETS.
Monkeys eating your face and hands aren’t the only severe danger in your household. I did important and serious research on this, and found out the following, which may or may not be true because it came from a kind-of suspect website but also it was from Britain and the way they spell things makes me more likely to believe them almost every time. So what I have learned? YOUR HOUSE IS TRYING TO KILL YOU. Also, I feel less clumsy, because only once have I had to go to the hospital for a household injury.
67,000 people a year are injured while trying to peel the cellophane from a package of sandwiches, open a ready meal, or open a ring-pull can (this is called “experiencing ‘wrap-rage.’”) I don’t know much about cellophane being overly dangerous, because I mostly subscribe to the “if it doesn’t open HULK SMASH” theory? If it doesn’t open nicely, I tear that thing open with the strength of a circus strongman. Sometimes the food item goes flying across the room, exciting the cats. Why? Because I have no patience! I am hungry! I want it now! However, ring-top cans are very sharp and cutty. So watch out for those. Especially pudding cans. Which I don’t recommend you lick to get the last delicious bit of pudding from. Because that is kind of the most dangerous thing you can do ever to your tongue. But when it’s Thank You pudding, I don’t know how you can resist. (You’ve all had Thank You pudding, right? IT IS THE BEST. OK, if you haven’t? YOU RECTIFY THAT IMMEDIATELY. I recommend the chocolate. Oh, well, if you don’t like really gooey pudding like the kind you had in elementary school, like canned pudding, then probably don’t try it. But if you’re a connoisseur of that, EAT IT YOU WILL LOVE IT. You are so welcome. Also, can you get them to start carrying at my Hannaford again? Because they stopped, and I really cried out in almost physical pain in the baking aisle that day.)
150 people a day accidentally stab themselves trying to pry the top off of a jar or open a ready-to-eat meal with a knife. OK, well, that’s not really a smart thing to do. I mean, not that I would know that you could break your knife or stab your hand doing it, because it’s totally not like I’ve tried that or anything.
37 people were injured in one year making tea, either by burning themselves on the teapot itself or by dropping the potholder on the floor, then slipping and falling on it. See? SEE? This is just another reason to hate tea! TEA IS THE DEVIL. (But, OK, I know, I KNOW, I’m going to hell, but the idea of someone dropping their potholder, then slipping and falling on it, made me laugh. Sorry, people that this happened to.)
Almost 17,000 people injured themselves to the point of hospitalization while putting on their pants, socks, tights and stockings in a year. The main reason behind these injuries was falling or tripping because they were getting dressed too hastily. THIS IS MY FAVORITE STATISTIC EVER. Because, you know what it means, right? DON’T WEAR PANTS. Pants will most likely kill you. Let me reiterate: YOUR PANTS ARE TRYING TO KILL YOU. And women, we all know that stockings are evil. (That was sexist. Also, men. Men who also wear stockings. I don’t mean to be exclusionary.) I mean, stockings SUCK. They ride up, they are uncomfortable and sweaty and the toe-parts always move around and get under your toes and rub and are uncomfortable. Tights are a little better but not much. They are crotch-prisons, too. SO AWFUL. So! The next time you’re all walking around without pants? YOU HAVE MEDICAL PROOF TO BACK YOU UP. Again? You are WELCOME.
Also, your undergarments are death instruments. True fact: a woman is suing Victoria’s Secret because she says a metal heart on one of their thongs slingshotted off of the garment and scratched her cornea, causing her to miss two weeks of work. I’m going to just state the obvious, here. In order for something to “slingshot,” there needs to be excessive stretchage and force. Which makes me think maybe that thong was a little too tight. So that’s not so much a household accident as it is a sartorial misstep.
I’m just going to quote this outright – “Other menaces around the home included hair brushes (1394 incidents), vegetables (14,149) piles of ironing (5248) and Q-tips (8569). False teeth caused 933 accidents, clothes baskets 2768, toilet roll holders 287, Brillo pads 226, talcum powder 123, and deodorants 431.”
Um. I don’t – ok. There are things here that I assume caused people to trip. Like piles of ironing (people have enough ironing to be a PILE of it? Whoa! I think I’ve ironed three times in the past ten years) and clothes baskets. And I guess you could hurt your gums with false teeth. And (shudder) I know people accidentally jam Q-tips into their ears too far and rupture their eardrums, which gives me the willies. I don’t know what the accidents were that the other things caused. Allergic reactions? Vegetables – please don’t let this be a sexual thing please don’t let this be a sexual thing please don’t let this be a sexual thing. Toilet roll holders? Did you drop it and slip and fall on it? Did you jam it in your eye socket? This list is perplexing.
Almost 75,000 people went to the hospital after being injured by sofas, armchairs, and footstools. YOUR FURNITURE IS SENTIENT AND WANTS YOU DEAD AND IS MOST LIKELY IN CAHOOTS WITH YOUR PANTS.
I had to quote this one. Sorry, Britain, I’m stealing left and right from you, here. But the report’s like ten years old so I don’t think I’ll be sued. “One accident report states a woman was carrying a pair in the waistband of her skirt - sharp end up - when she bent down and stabbed herself in the stomach.” OK, you know what? She deserved this. Completely deserved it. I have no sympathy. There is no one in the world who doesn’t know scissors are sharp. So let’s put them next to our soft bits and do some lunges! I hope you stabbed yourself in the babymaker because those genes don’t need to be passed down.
In better news! There were apparently only a little over 1,100 people who went to the hospital with chainsaw-related injuries. So that’s good. Chainsaw accidents and/or murders are on the decline. I guess Leatherface was having an off-year? Probably in traction with a pants- or chair-related injury.
So what have we learned today? Your house is trying to kill you. There wasn’t even anything in this article about all of the slip-and-falls in the bathtub (which I’m 99% sure will be the death of me if my adult-onset ADD or rabid monkeys or zombie apocalypse or midnight smothery breath-stealing cats don’t get me first) or people that fall out of windows or balconies or that commercial with the crash-test dummies that scared me so much when I was younger that some astronomical number of car accidents happened within a mile of your home.
My recommendation: pantsless. Food with no cellophane, no vegetables, no packaging, no knives or scissors, no undergarments, no furniture. And for the love of all that’s shiny NO WILD ANIMAL PETS. Just sit quietly with your pantsless ass against your floor and gnaw on your loaf of bread or whatever and DO NOT MOVE.
Also, you'd probably better give me all of your Thank You pudding, which is very dangerous. I'll gladly dispose of it in a safe way for you.
You’re welcome! I know. What would you do without me?