Twas a bit before Christmas

And Santa was perplexed

First, the elves got into the eggnog

And now the sleigh’s a literal wreck

And the reindeer are striking

Wanting a boost in their hay

Oh poor Santa was having

One heck of a day

Mrs. Claus spilled Merlot

Down the seat of his pants

And there was a pretty good possibility

That his bathroom had ants

The North Pole sign

Had been stolen by bears

And his hat no longer fit

But do you think anyone cares?

The elves were trying their best

To make things right

But his heck of a day

Was turning into one hell of a night

A call just came through

That Rudolph’s been found

Unfortunately for Santa

He was froze to the ground

And the Stocking Department said,

“We’re coming up short,

On the little chocolate things

It’s all in the report”

Santa went inside

To take a small break

For a very brief moment

He wished he WERE fake.

But his Holiday cheer

Broke through his blues

All he needed was a bite to eat

And a quick little snooze

These days it’s harder and harder to come up with a unique Halloween Costume so we here at Real Monkeys Play With Knives (Yes I know …it’s a schizophrenic thing) want to do our utmost to enable you to stand out at the party of your choice…AND you’ll look totally awesome in your mugshot! So here it goes…10 Halloween costume ideas to make your pagan holiday that much more special…..

1. Gather 200-300 of your closest friends and cover yourselves with white PVC piping and aluminum sheeting. Whenever anyone asks what the hell you’re supposed to be, tell them you are a Particle Accelerator. Demonstrate your costume by having two randomly selected people charge and smash into each other until one of them breaks into two or more smaller versions of them selves, each with similar but opposite personalities…Or until one of them is dead….either way good times will be had.

2. Get dressed in some of your most comfortable jeans and t-shirt then proceed to beat yourself about the head with a ball-peen hammer until you believe that the cast of the Real World have it hard. Congratulations, you now have the perfect Reality Show Fan costume … and quite possibly minor brain damage!

3. Find the top half of a 1940’s sailor outfit, put it on. Now drink shots of tequila until you’re belligerent, unintelligible and willing to allow someone to glue feathers over your exposed lower half. There, now you have the ideal Donald Duck costume.

4. Acquire a hand tailored suit and head to the Halloween party at the bar. When you arrive, start ordering the most expensive drinks you can while tipping you server as little as possible, saying”it’s just not feasible at this time.” After three drinks call the bar two streets over to order your drinks claiming they’re cheaper, stronger and the tipping is less there. You’ve got yourself one fine dandy CEO costume there….now drink up!

5. Obtain several dozen assorted tin cans and various scrap metal pieces and, using a pilfered welding torch, stick together a rudimentary metal suit. After cutting mouth and eye holes in the final coffee can you have created a suit of armor fit for the most valiant of Knights…(However, the entire time you’re in costume, you will be answering question about where Dorothy is while the only people who recognize you as a knight will be Monty Python fans who scream NEE!! at you for the entire evening…..it just goes with the territory)

6. If you’re under 40 find the tightest jeans you can squeeze into and a wife beater t-shirt or a nice new track suit. Now slick your hair back, find a nice gold cross on a necklace and grow and/or adhere some chest hair. If you’re over 40 trade the jeans and wife beater for a tailored suit…the track suits still o.k. … Mama Mia! You now have one hell of an Italian Stereotype costume….and you look fantastico ya goomba you.

7. Go wash your hands…Good, feel clean? … now go wash them a little more vigorously…They’re starting to get a little pink aren’t they?... now think about the millions of germs in the air, on your skin…you know the ones, like Staphylococcus or Naegleria fowleri…Just one microbial amoeba later and you’re a vegetable drooling on your collar…with that in mind go scrub your hands to get off all the unclean you picked up god knows where… there you go ...you hands are all chapped and chaffed…possibly a bit raw…now throw on some surgical gloves and a HEPA mask, lest you pick up more germs out and about…. Now you have the perfect OCD costume…and the best part is you get to be in costume for the rest of your life!! Yay!

8. Do not wash from now until Halloween… The morning before your costume party, slaughter several yaks and create a loose fitting jacket out of their freshly skinned hide…Form a jaunty hat from the leftover skull fur…during the party attempt to force yourself into situations where you’re not wanted and drink obnoxious cocktails such as horse blood and milk or redbull and vodka…That’s right!...you’re wearing a dead ringer of a Barbarian Horde or Celebrity Clubkid costume…now watch out for those paparazzi and/or archers…

9. Go to the store and select an off the rack costume…it doesn’t matter which…after putting it on and half-assed applying you makeup, head over to the party…while there repeatedly pound cheap beers from a keg while engaging in passing conversations with people you hardly know…towards the end of the night vaguely recall a nasty beer scented heavy petting session with someone you can barely recall and possibly wake up at said hook-ups place…. You’ve now dressed as 90% of Halloween Party Goers….it’s too bad you wore this costume for the last few years…

10. Throw on your regular clothes. To hell with everyone, you never win the costume contests anyway, no matter how hard you try…you’re just going to sit and pound shots until your visions blurry and you can’t tell if you have to go pee or not. You now have the perfect Angry Drunk costume…or you’re being yourself….but, only you know for sure!

And there you go….I know some are slightly harder than others to pull off but if you’re dedicated you’ll find a way….and remember ….. If there are no Treats there must be tricks….and the best Tricks involve fire …..

As a pre-warning this next post is a geek-fueled collision of the comic book world and realistic common sense…Mainly because I would totally dig superheroes cruising around the city but then reality steps in the way…

Why do people still live in Gotham? Seriously, this is a city that, not only is ripe with your everyday petty crime but, crazed individuals steal entire buildings here! This goes for Metropolis too! These things don’t happen in the country! (Although…Where do Super Villains go to unwind? Are there a series of resort destinations geared to their “special” needs? Or perhaps a cruise line with a “don’t ask” policy?) I mean, yeah you have some “special” people running around in spandex suits trying to stop the madness but to be honest they’re more than capable of claiming you as a “necessary” casualty. These are cities where you could be out, on your way to the corner market and suddenly you’re abducted from the sidewalk, taken to an abandoned amusement park, injected with some sort of poison and released back into society a gibbering, giggling meltdown of your former self with the hopes that someone will concoct an anti-venom in time to stop your brain from spraying out your ears.

And that’s something else….If these cities are the sparkling mega-destinations you’d think they would be, why is there so much available real estate? Every major city I’ve been to has had a complete lack of available warehouse space let alone acres and acres of abandoned amusement parks, carnival staging areas, discarded greenhouses, forgotten bioengineering labs, castles just on the edge of town and, well , empty apartment units. Have you noticed that every time Batman smashes through a window he lands in a run-down apartment complete with some sort of crates or other discarded packing material to land on and/or smash people into? Where did the apartment’s occupants go? And why didn’t they take their wooden packing crates with them? Where they too heavy?

What kind of recourse do you have IF a costumed avenger comes smashing through your living room while in the grasps of a shape shifting being from the farthest reaches of space? Can you bill them? Do they have a P.O. Box you can send your contractors estimates to? I know people have insurance but I’m not sure that the majority of policies cover acts of super-heroness….perhaps they do in these cities. That’d be a hell of a selling point if I lived there (…so you’re covered against fire, flood and homicidal rampages by super villains…now let’s talk life insurance…)

Perhaps the citizens of these cities have just become numb to these events… As they go about their day they casually avoid the aftermath of The Riddler’s latest spectacle or cross their fingers that Lex Luthor hasn’t shrunk the neighbor hood down again. (How odd must it be to leave work only to find yourself encased in a glass bottle on someone’s mantle? Come to think of it, how do the little delis keep producing little sandwiches?)

All I can say is that these metropolitan areas must have one hell of a welcoming committee….

If you are a child of the eighties you can remember, to the day, where you were when you first saw a Nintendo in action. If you were lucky you may have caught a glimpse of an Atari 2600 or an Intelevision, however the amazing graphics of the NES destroyed all perceptions of “gaming” as you knew it. That 8-bit succubus knew how to pull you in and keep you there until you were ready to accept its gleaming digital reality. The slick graphics and quick game play of Super Mario were enough to sway my easily gullible , and let’s face it, hopelessly optimistic mind with images of fantastic rescues in the nick of time and good always conquers evil….oh silly, foolish, gullible youth. Now in my thirties I know better than to believe the high paced, gorgeously rendered worlds that the new gaming consoles whore at me but sit and wonder sometimes what life would be like if video game features popped out into real life like I had imagined in those first few moments of Nintendo discovery so long ago.

Imagine this:

You pop out of bed realizing you're late for work. You hurry through your kitchen without time to make breakfast, so you tap the floating question mark box above your head with your fingers crossed that a “magic” mushroom will pop out providing sustenance as opposed to a glowing flower that only ends up giving you heartburn. After devouring your fungal breakfast you hurry to the bus stop just as you remember you left your pass at home. You hurry off around the corner to the floating brick and repeatedly slam your head into them, not in frustration, but in the hopes that golden coins will tumble out of them providing you a way to get to work. After you gather enough brick money you catch a bus and arrive at work, albeit a few moments late. As you walk into the office your boss comes storming toward you with the look of imminent doom on his face. You deftly reach into your desk and pull out the mystical star you have stashed in there, allowing you to ignore his repeated attempt to berate you in front of your peers. After several moments of fury he lets you go (not in a “get back to work” way but in a “if you’re here at lunch I may vivisect you on your own desk kind of way). Now that you have spare time on your hands you decide to see if you can slide down that flagpole on the building next to yours, you know the one that’s always playing music.

Now that I think about it, this is the average day of a casual drug user… That’s why the war on drugs didn’t, and doesn’t, work… it’s not the drugs, prostitution, theft and random killings that drive people to drugs …its’ the slim chance that, just for a moment, they may find the power sword, save the princess and totally change square pyramids from one color to another by jumping on them ( it’s Q-bert people, if you’ve never heard of it go look it up…one of the best mindless, no point to them video games ever) …

Damn you Mario, damn you and the little pixilated, green sewer pipe you showed up in!!!

The ice breaker or “pick-up line” is the classic opening salvo in a chess-like banter of: will you (not likely) or won’t you (pretty much bet on it). In using this classic form of flattery/humor/desperation most people tend to stick to the tried and true one liners that everyone’s heard and a friend of a friend of a friend swears works for them every time. These phrases may have worked great in the seventies but they have gone the way of displaying medallions on hairy chests and “The Hustle” (it’s a dance, look it up… if I have to explain the references I make, this may take some time to read) People are very literal these days and may take your clumsy attempt at seduction the wrong way.

For Example: You’re at the bar and you see a fine specimen of (insert derogatory descriptive here). You manage to get close enough to the object of your momentary lust to talk over the jukebox and you blurt out: “Is it hot in here or is it just you?” Now, your intentions were that they would see a small amount of flattery in your bumbling efforts, think it was cute and continue the conversation with a possibility of this round of flirting culminating in the securing of “digits”. However, in this literal world of ours, he/she/it/they (I don’t know your particular attractions, I’m just trying to help here) may take it as the bar is particularly crowded tonight and you would like some breathing room as you may faint from lack of proper ventilation. Not exactly what you were intending.

Let’s look at another of the classics, shall we:

Perhaps you are at the club and you spot Mr. or Mrs. Right-Now across the floor. You shake your groove thing until you are near them and shout out “What’s a nice boy/girl/cephalopod (you’d be surprised at how often cephalopods get hit on at the bar) doing in a place like this?” Once again the hope is that the object of your desire finds this adorable in some way and continues the conversation. This particular pick-up line is faulty in so many ways. For instance, they may know the owner or be the owner of the club and take it as a personal insult, shiv you on the dance floor and leave you to bleed to death to the beats of Top 40 hits….no one deserves to die like that…or they may roll their eyes and walk away (possibly while squirting ink to disguise their escape route in the case of the cephalopods and some more experienced club goers) … but the most damaging result is the perception they get when they question why you fit in so well in “a place like this” when “nice” people obviously don’t

I guess the lesson here is to be yourself, (unless you’re a disgusting, foul-mouthed, slime ball, then perhaps be someone else for a change) relax, have fun and remember although the object of your attention is not as nearly as scared as you are, it helps to think that they are

These days it’s hard to know everyone that exists in your sphere of influence. Doris, the 50 year old friendly cashier at the gas station- On-Call mistress specializing in genital electro-stimulation….Joe, the guy who helps you out at the bank – secretly plotting a massive international internet crash in his spare time… Frank, the guy who helps you out with your groceries – Former gunrunner for the Giovanni family (now in hiding)…Seth, the lovable scamp who creates your morning coffee at the café down the road – loves the Republican Party … All of them have secret lives…Twisted secret lives….(especially Seth…that’s just wrong)

But the person you have to worry about the most may be the one you least suspect….the one who hides in plain sight, his secret life never far from his mind….we’re talking serial killers here people…Now I know you’re saying “I’d see them coming from a mile away” or “I’ve seen the movies and none of my acquaintances have ever returned from the dead or were raised by dead mothers in out of the way hotels”…to which I’d have to say “Really?...That kind of sucks , because think of the stories you could tell.” But anyway….Serial killers are not always so obvious which is why I’ve come up with a handy test you can use to identify the stalkers around you….

1. When receiving gifts from the person, are a good portion of them handmade out of self cured leather?
2. If you help them change a flat, is there an unnatural amount of hooks, knives or chainsaws on top of the jack? (We’re talking a lot here …I mean everyone has a machete or two in the trunk …don’t they?)
3. When you complain about the cost of groceries, do they offer you some odd tasting cuts of meat….Possibly with tattoos?
4. Do they have the odd habit of sniffing your hair in the elevator while commenting that they would love to “be able to wear hair like that someday”?
5. After you notice some blood on their shirt, they attribute it to a paper cut even though it’s about six square inches large… and on their shoulder?
6. Often offers to let you stay at their “vacation home” on the lake, but insists they drive you there…alone?

If your acquaintances fit into any of these questions, well you know some bizarre characters….who may be serial killers.

Now you can’t rely on this test alone to identify the crazed psychopaths around you …No, you must look into your hunches on your own….so go and sneak into their apartment while they’re at the corner store…or head to the basement storage area and pry open their storage unit…or get out of the city and break into the root cellar at the lake cabin….Follow them down dark alleys to get to the truth if you have to….because the only way you’ll know if they’re truly a serial killer is if you catch them in the act, stop their heinous acts and scold them loudly in the leaky factory where you’ve found them while telling them you will be contacting the authorities just as soon as you can get cellular coverage…Good Luck

Why do mad scientists have such a bad rap? These are people that are highly intelligent and well educated, although you would be hard pressed to find their Alma mater …anymore. (Perhaps there is a university somewhere that has a Major/Minor of doomsday devices/reanimating human remains… I would rather enjoy attending, just to see the midterm projects and Thesis papers …not to mention the wicked football team they must have with the genetic engineering and all…)

And yes, they prefer to work alone, but they aren’t above creating some random servants and companions out of spare body parts they have laying around. (Which is not only clever and resourceful, but, considering the recycling and reusing, is also very eco-friendly, ...When was the last time you saw government agencies be that considerate?...)

Speaking of being eco-friendly….Mad Scientists require incredible amounts of energy but do they go to big energy companies….NO…they turn to nature itself and harness it’s power directly…need a massive generator for your thermal laser powered up?...Lightning …Need to reanimate a hodgepodge of cadaver parts for a weekend party? ....Lightning…Having trouble locating your favorite desk lighter for your evening cigar? ...Lighting…See...These people are innovative and geniuses! ...

Now I can hear the naysayers in the group….”What about the Doomsday Devices?” … (Why don’t you cry a little more…Baby!) O.K. so they may have a thing about creating doomsday devices, but they very rarely set them off and when they do it’s actually beneficial for the economy…For example... say Professor Insanity has detonated his plasma vortex above …oh I don’t know….Ruby’s Diner just outside of Cleveland, OH (not that I have anything against Cleveland….But Ruby knows what she did) After the rubble is cleared…and the massive crater is filled in…think of all the jobs that are created to rebuild and/or pave over the now radioactive site….Ahhh, Progress ….

Look….All I’m saying is, if that creepy house at the top of the hill is purchased by a quiet, slightly off person of the scientific persuasion…Let them be …nothing hurts more than the disapproval of neighbors carrying torches and pitchforks....Heck…Consider yourself lucky….it’s very unlikely that they’ll destroy they’re own neighborhood….especially if they’re invited to the block party

Today’s post was guest written by our good friend Bradford Pennyknocker III. A gentleman, scholar and all around dandy man to have around for a good fox hunt...

Recently it has come up in conversation that people are unaware of the correct usage of, and differences of, Shiv and Shank. Both are equal in action, but when converted to verbiage, the subtle differences scream out for elaboration. To Shank someone is a violent action usually unaccompanied by words and, well, is just not used in polite society. It’s best left to common street thugs, low intelligence inmates and, to put it bluntly, those ruffians that congregate in east wing of the gentlemen’s club. Why, those beasts have watered down my brandy, pilfered my PRIVATE humidor and have even begun to berate me during cricket matches…I know...Appalling, isn’t it? ...Anyway, I digress… Shanking is a brutal statement in a personal relationship. To me it says “I don’t believe you’re worth the mother-of-pearl in your cuff links.”… Very, rude…On the other hand, to Shiv someone shows a camaraderie between you and the Shivee… The Shiving action is a more thought out motion, done with style and grace… let’s look at some examples, shall we?

Rupert has insulted the cut of your smoking vest. After several attempts to receive reparations from him, you decide to clear this matter as you pass him near the tennis courts…would you:

1. Insult his, ahem, Momma and wildly slash at his throat with the steak knife you’ve liberated from the dining room?
2. Walk quietly towards him and as you break plane with his elbow, turn sharply and deliver the ‘Ol Cut and Butter to his ribs? (If you have to ask what the Cut and Butter is, you obviously don’t belong to Skull & Bones.)
3. Clasp him tightly on the shoulder and as you inquire as to his dear old mom’s health, you slip your sharpened letter opener between his third and fourth ribs just deep enough to nick his aorta allowing him to trot off to the infirmary, if he’s quick, and think about his discretion as he recuperates.

Now if you’ve answered A you’re either not paying attention or you’ve stumbled upon this writing while looking for Professor Thunkneck’s street fisticuffs course.

Now that that’s taken care of can, you identify which is the shank and which is the shiv?
(if you need a hint, please reread the beginning of this essay and this time, for the love of the Queen , take notes!)

Let’s have another one, right?

Chauncey has taken liberties with your bottle of 1951 Chateau Cheval Blanc while you were in the loo. Do you:

1. Leap upon his chest and tear out his throat with your exaggerated canines thereby establishing yourself as the dominant male? (Sorry I’ve been engrossed in a fascinating study of the Western Lowland Gorillas done by the Royal Academy)
2. While he is seating himself properly you stroll past him and plunge the tip of your pudding fork into his throat relieving him of the pressure of choosing the correct silver setting for dinner?(There seems to be a lot of throat references in this narrative…perhaps I’m a tad parched…)
3. Approach him as he reclines in the card room, and while leaning in to give him the evenings greeting, slide the edge of your watch fob below his sternum as a warning to respect your vintage spirits?

Once again the correct identification should be no sweat for pupils such as yourselves….Oh Dear... I seem to be running late for tea…well I think you should be well enough prepared to chose your retaliatory method properly….

Cheers.

Has anybody really looked into the scientific veracity of motivational posters? … I mean taken at face value some of these phrases used to push office drones to new heights are near impossible to comprehend if not outright dangerous….

For example, “Hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard”… seriously, not only is this a paltry effort at attempting to confuse the poor worker by running words after each other but it also condones a twisted sort of literary sweatshop where poor talent never stood a chance (not to worry, some day talent will rise up and overcome…just don’t expect it on daytime television)

Or…

“Coming together is a beginning, keeping together is progress, working together is success”…OK... this one is just barely beyond a catch line for a stalker convention and a little dirty (if you read it in the right state of mind…although if I have to explain it to you, you probably don’t travel to that state regularly)

And…

“The most feared opponent is you”…now, I don’t know about you but considering I know all of my weaknesses I’m pretty sure I could take me down if the situation arose…no, I definitely fear that guy staring at me from behind the dumpster every morning …you know the one…one black eye, army fatigues, possibly dried blood on his left sneaker…well HE knows who he is (much love brother)

Or…

“Every strike brings me closer to the next home run”…ummm…no…every strike brings you closer to the next out …and possibly the minor leagues if it’s a consistent event (in the working world I suppose the minors is like working fast food…or being that guy at the major intersections who has that suspiciously fleeting leg injury…)

Even the simple ones such as…

Now I know you’re thinking “what a pessimist … those are there to inspire.”(I know that's what your thinking because I’ve tapped into those brain implants of the Uber-Rich [see a few posts back])

No...it's just those damn posters irritate me...if you want to inspire me buy me a martini with the money you would've spent on them ...we'll call it square

I learned a new word today – psychophagic ….which is someone who eats minds or mental processes….which is kind of a cool term but doesn’t show up in the dictionary….its’ an amalgamation of Pych and phagy then converted to indicate a person or thing who does it….. now technically we live with psychophagic things every day(can anyone say television….no seriously …‘cause if you can’t then the psychophagic machines may have well gotten to you already!!! )….

I think taking crazy Latin prefixes and suffixes and tossing them together is a great way to start a conversation….for instance …
say you’re in a bar looking for that perfect someone(why you’re looking for them in a bar …well that’s your first mistake but we won’t go there) ...so you see the nice looking blond at the bar and walk over to her/him/it/they(just covering bases here) as a subtle hint of your attraction, you may want to strike up a conversation in Tribology, which happens to be the study of friction and lubrication( see… ever so subtle)... however, you may want to avoid any conversations in Venereology, which is the study of venereal diseases(possibly also subtle but probably not in a good way)….see the fine line there….
let’s try another one…
let’s say that you happen to run across the neighborhood street pharmacist(are you really saying it out loud?...seriously…. people are going to start wondering) now I don’t condone the “over the curb” purchase but people will do as people do(that’s my public service announcement ….goodbye community service hours…hello, tequila!)….to break the ice with her/him/it/they(covering bases again) you may ask how well she/he/it/they know Posology, which is the study of drug dosages….but, you're probably best to avoid any chats about Penology, which is the study of prison management and criminal rehabilitation and may well end up getting you shived…see this is easy….
o.k. last one….
perhaps you run into an old friend you haven’t seen in a while at the video store….you could discuss Ludology, which happens to be the study of video games, while waiting in line…however loud arguments about Killology, the study of human beings killing other human beings, is probably best avoided….I hope this little primer is a good start to working those kooky Latin Mash-ups into your daily life

Next weeks lesson: Turtles....Man's best friend or perfectly aerodynamic frisbees?