hey, you know that phrase that goes, “more fun than a barrel of monkeys”?  you do not, i repeat, do not even know what that means until you play with a barrel of monkeys while at a bar for someone’s birthday party.

the birthday girl works as a zookeeper, so we took the cake we bought for her and shoved a bunch of the little red monkeys into the icing.  after she blew out the candles, i yelled, “everyone lick a monkey!” and we licked the icing off their little arms and feet and put them back in the barrel.  later, after cake and beer, i succeeded in picking up all the monkeys in a row.  boy, was my arm tired!  other people tried to best me, but nobody could handle the monkeys like i could.  after more beer, we had a contest where everyone got one monkey to start with, and then it was a free-for-all to see who could pick up the most in the pile.  sabotage was allowed.  i didn’t win that, but we think we lost one of the monkeys under the table.  after even more beer, the barrel containing monkeys was used as a percussion instrument and then as a sort of dreidl-like top.

it turns out that a barrel of monkeys is equally as fun as a barrel of monkeys, which fun is what happens when you decide not to play darts like you do every single night.