WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2007
I loved yesterday’s blog. Maybe that’s why I’m so late in posting today – because I want you to enjoy it THAT much more. Actually, it’s an excuse for forgetting it was Wednesday – which also means I didn’t get the garbage out again. Damn.
I was at the Yarn Shoppe today and heard some of the women talking about being afraid of clowns. My ex-brother-in-law was afraid of clowns. He had a great t-shirt that said, “Can’t sleep…clowns will eat me…” I’m not afraid of clowns. I’m kind of partial to them actually. I think my biggest fear is of losing my sense of humor. That would totally suck.
I don’t really have a fear of anything like spiders, bats, mice or such. Actually, the closest I come is my loathing of seeing monkeys dressed in human clothes. Now, I’m not exactly sure why that is. But seeing chimps in suits has that nails-on-a-blackboard feeling. For years, I had (sick, twisted) co-workers who loved to wallpaper my cubicle walls with photos of primates in pants. This was almost always followed with involuntary dry-heaving and threats of some sort of discrimination charges (although I never could find a good one. Evolutionary discrimination perhaps?).
My grandmother hated monkeys. She always said they were dirty, filthy creatures. Of course I knew it had to do with an unfortunate trip to the local zoo where monkeys gleefully lobbed excrement at shocked, Midwestern onlookers.
I don’t dislike monkeys. I’m a huge animal lover – primates included. But for some reason I just can’t stand to look at an ape in haute couture. (Of course, that’s probably just envy on my part.)
I’d love to hear your theories on why this is. Give me a good enough suggestion and I’ll throw it in one of my books (with credit to you, of course!).