The City & The Monkey

Jeff:
C-t-y-i. Ctyi. Cyti. Ciyt. Yict. Yict! YICT!

Evil Monkey:
Jeez Louise, Jeff, what the heck is wrong? Yer sitting in the dark mumbling crap to yourself. In a corner no less. Facing the wall.

Jeff:
Can’t get. Can’t get. The word right. It doesn’t mean anything anymore.

Evil Monkey:
What word? What word could be that important.

Jeff:
This word–see, on this piece of paper.

Evil Monkey:
City?

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Evil Monkey and People for the Ethical Treatment of SF (PETSF)


(Image courtesy of The Crotchety Old Fan…)

Evil Monkey:
Are you a mofo?

Jeff:
What? OW!! You hit me with that hammer. Right in the knee!

Evil Monkey:
You didn’t answer quick enuf. I thought you might be ethically challenged.

Jeff:
What in the hell are you talking about?

Evil Monkey:
I am a member of the People for the Ethical Treatment of SF. I go around hitting m@therf*ckers with hammers.

Jeff:
Back the hell up. What the hell is…PETSF?

Evil Monkey:
I dunno but we support nice stuff and I get to go around hitting mofos with hammers. Splinter group of this. It was more interesting at SFFE before somebody I think called Andy Remic deleted his post about mofos. There’s mofos out there. [scroll down to Andy Remic. kthanxbai.]

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Evil Monkey’s Thought For a Sunday


(Miraculous defecation?)

Jeff:
Hey, Evil! What’ve you been up to?

Evil Monkey:
Watching those Godzilla movies, like you asked me to. Gawd, most of them suck.

Jeff:
Thanks for doing that. I’ve got so much other work to do on the new novel, I haven’t had time for the research aspect.

Evil Monkey:
You know, they’re not very realistic, these movies.

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Evil Monkey in Review: “Those Were the Days”

I’ve finally, with Luis Rodrigues’ help, created a separate tag and drop-down option for all Evil Monkey posts. So you can now review Evil Monkey’s sordid, drunken, disgusting history in one place, if you so desire. Let’s take a little trip down memory lane, shall we…

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Evil Monkey on the Writer “Growth Cycle”

Another entry I’m posting as a refugee from the old blog. In this case, the context is messy because it’s in response to Jenn Reese publishing the Growth Cycle of a Writer, which no longer on the net. As she says, it doesn’t apply to every writer, so this post was not meant to castigate her for outlining her own course as a writer–what she’s saying is, of course, perfectly valid. (Even though she mixes stuff about career and stuff about the actual writing–which are two different animals that must be kept in different cages so that they do not devour each other or you.) Still, maybe you can grok the context from Evil’s responses…begin old post…

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Sign of the Apocalyse: Monitter

UPDATE: MONITTER GETS MUCH CREEPIER IF YOU TYPE IN: ultimate destruction, world domination, iron fist. IT GETS MUCH MUCH CREEPIER IF YOU TYPE IN: duck paddles, marmot pants, chicken knuckles…But I would sincerely suggest not putting dirty words into it. Because the amount of data streaming across the screen would blind a thing made entirely of eyes.

photo_032909_014

OMFG. This is too much. I’m going to need monkeys to monitor the monkeys monitoring the monkeys that monitor the intertubes for me. Or, more seriously, this is part of the growing case for turning off and tuning out.

I typed in “ambergris” and this came up in the last two minutes:

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