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Curiosity did not kill the monkey

Je suis desolé

Lo siento

Ik ben droevig

Sono spiacente

Gomen nasai

Mujhe maaf kardo

Proshenja Proshu


I guess there are many ways to say 'I'm sorry'. Oh, well. Here's a story a friend of mine wrote. I think it's pretty good. Go ahead and read it. He promised to explain it to me later. If he does, I'll explain it to you. Meanwhile, enjoy.

George was a good little monkey who had been held captive for many years. He was being used as slave labor in a terrorist death camp.
One day, while his captors were having lunch at the White House, George became very curious.
He decided to escape any way possible…
He opted for the less violent "sneak attack," hiding in his captor’s bag.
Increased security and racial profiling forced the captor to leave his bag at the gate. George saw his chance.
Throwing caution to the wind, George climbed onto the dugout.
After disrupting a Major League Baseball game, George only narrowly fled the police. Besides he had always wanted to see the world.
In just his short time of freedom, George managed to accrue quite the amount of luggage.
Unsure of his destination and the color of the Homeland Security Advisory Warning George began to feel nervous.
After a valium or two, flying was fun. There was nothing to be afraid of—not even the drunken US Airways pilot.
George had made many friends while diverting the plane from crashing.
They even let him stay the night. George learned a new word: Prostitute.
To repay his new "friends" George had to get a job at a gift shop.
George then began to learn the drudgery of a 9 to 5 existence.
Finally George had to say goodbye.
George quickly buddied up to two illegal Mexican immigrants who happened to be Siamese twins and who, for a fee, agreed to transport him over the border.
In a stunning double-cross they sold him to an Oriental restaurant where he was going to be served on the menu next to dog and cat.
All that was left of the last monkey was his rotting skull.
George grew frantic with the need to survive. He climbed up a vine…
Onto some bananas…
And hid in a tree.
He jumped into the bag of some passerbys who took him into their hotel room.
George blended in so well.
Soon George grew hungry. He hadn’t eaten in days. His mother had always told him there were starving kids…
If only he had eaten those vegetables world hunger would have been averted.
When dinner was finished George stopped by the bar to have a drink.
George lost count of drinks, but soon he was calling another customer "chicken." A heated exchange ensued.
After George ruffled a few feathers in the bar he stumbled to the casino.
George managed to lose his live savings and pension plan as well as his mother’s wedding ring. He did, however, win the affection of a beautiful waitress.
He decided to invite her up to his room.
Ahh…the magic of bar lighting…
The next morning George felt better after a trip to the bathroom.
Something was wrong!!!! Somehow George was in Hawaii. He looked at his watch and realized he had blacked out for almost a week!
George began to realize that drugs were NOT the answer. He wanted to know what happened, but was beginning to think twice about curiosity. He did remember something about floating across the ocean in a raft.
Instead George spent a couple of days getting some R & R. Besides he needed to get the "burning sensation when he urinated" checked out.
The TV commercials told the truth—get an STD and you too can climb mountains…
Take fun carriage rides…
And walk barefoot on the beach. It came with a price, though. Nobody wants come near you when you’re diseased.
Luckily George didn’t have terminal cancer and was cured. Women began to flock to his side. Even though they were underage, three girls offered to give him a ride.
George said Aloha to his life of debauchery.
Well, maybe once they crossed the state line…
Okay, George lied.
He came up with a plan. Just like General Lee in the Civil War, George wanted to invade somebody’s south. All he needed was a connection at a Tabloid, some scandalizing pictures, and at least B-list star status. (Hey if Jessica could do it…)
George passed the time getting truck drivers to honk and flashing families in minivans.
The states flew by.
George knew what he had to do: George was going to become a star. He was going to Hollywood.





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