Merry Chimp M’Ass

Merry Chimp M’Ass

‘Twas the night before Xmas and nobody stirred
Not even a mouse
But the acoustics were bad
Inside the house.

All were in bed
But not the same one
If that’s what you’re into
It’s the bad list your on

Monkey Pickles Christmas

Twas off to bed early
To dream of Liz Hurley
With tight closed eyes &
Hopes of Xmas surprise

With banana liqueur
And cakes by the door
He’s bound to leave more
That Saint Monkey Claws

Hung my draws on the walls
For gifts in the scores
” I filled the them all “, yours
Love, Saint Monkey Claws.

Yay! I hear his creep
Must fake my sleep
He’s eating the cake
Doesn’t think I’m awake

Now he’s guzzling the drink
… and coming closer, I think
Must keep my eyes shut
Aarrgh !
What’s he done to my butt?

He’s bitten my bum :O
I’m going to tell Mum
And without a howdy-do
Left me draws full of poo

Jeez, what a night
I look at the bite
That’s going to go funky
Darn Xmas monkey

Learn from my tale
Don’t court the fail
You’re going to lose
If you give monkeys booze.

Happy Hols Picklers & remember those mystery soft centres in those pooball … I mean snowball fights 😀

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Nick Jackson was born in the UK, the land of gunpowder tea, but moved to America to escape exploding cups of tea. He now lives in Florida where he attempts come to terms with concepts such as how flat everything is and whether the alligator is a golfer's natural predator. Nick has written for Monkey Pickles from the beginning, as established in Cern, Switzerland, with the discovery of the long-sought Monkey Pickle Particle. He is somewhat "freaked out" by writing in the third person. Nick is motivated to write for the pleasure of the experience rather than to pay the bills, but he does recognize that pleasure is still not an acceptable method of payment in most respectable retail outlets. He hopes to raise a smile or two before being ejected from the store.


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