poopoorama
fez monkey
Now I’ve been around the block a few times…a long block…and I’ve seen some things. I’ve seen an aubergine shaped like William Shatner in Tupelo, Mississippi. I’ve seen a bearded lady eating a corndog with mustard on the boardwalk in Coney Island. With my own two eyes I’ve seen the birthplace of Dick Bong, Ace of Aces, in Poplar, Wisconsin. I have seen both of the world’s biggest balls of twine; the one in Darwin, Minnesota (just off County Road 14, look for the water tower) and the one in Cawker City, Kansas (thrift + patience = success). I have seen things that have left me tremulous and unsteady. But I have never seen a monkey wearing a fez.
A monkey in any sort of hat or cap is sure to please a crowd. A homburg, a sombrero, a saucy beret…you take a monkey wearing a snappy little trilby with a feather and put him on any corner of any city in the entire world and I guarantee you a crowd will gather. A happy crowd. But a monkey in a fez? That is genius.
People enjoy a monkey wearing a tam-o-shanter or a pork-pie hat, but let’s face it, nobody is really surprised by the sight anymore. A monkey in a fez, though…well, it staggers the imagination. If I could see a monkey in a fez…maybe eating a corndog…I could die a happy man. Because after that, what else would there be in the wide and wicked world that could surprise you?
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