Tag Archives: Skittles

The Monkey Strikes Back

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My life had been pretty dreary lately. Things seemed devoid of all joy. The spark had completely gone out of my days.

Then I woke up one morning and Bam! It dawned on me– this empty feeling was because I haven’t won The Good Greatsby’s caption contest in ages! Sure, I’ve been a finalist. But I’ve always lost, coming in dead last.

Wallowing in self-pity, I was minutes away from jumping off the little ladder in my kiddie pool, willing to submerge myself in the chlorine/urine Flavor-Ice wrapper infested waters to drown my sorrows when I came upon this week’s contest.

I was in the finals again, baby!

But my elation turned to seething anger once I realized that yet again, my archenemy (and also one of my bestest blogging buddies when we’re not battling over captions) Pegnacious and her power-hungry followers, The Peglomaniacs, are on a mission to destroy me and my caption contest dreams. Which is exactly what happened last time, if you recall. (If you don’t recall, click on this here link.)

All hope seemed lost. Until today when I heard a faint knock on my front door. Followed by some high-pitched screeching and the sounds of a hungry animal devouring the bowl full of skittles and circus peanuts I had left out the night before. I threw open my door, and when our eyes met, a wave of emotion washed over me.

It was him! He had come back to me!!

Oh! I love you, Mr. Skittles! I am sorry I abandoned you! You sweet cheeky lil’ buggah!

All was forgiven. Or so I thought. I gave him a hug. He threw a feces-filled diaper in my face. But I understood. I had that coming.

After I refilled his Skittles bowl, we sat down to begin plotting our Evil Plan to Reign Caption Contest Supreme once again.

First order of business: Put a fresh diaper on him.
Second: I instructed him to immediately get on the laptop to vote for me.

He didn’t. He voted for Laura instead.

So currently, my caption is losing by a mile. Maybe because the other captions are better. Mr. Skittles seems to think so.

But with your help, yes…all of you out there reading this and scratching your heads wondering things like, what the hell is she talking about? Who is Mr. Skittles? Why does he wear a diaper? Well, that’s neither here nor there…but with your help, if we all band together we could make a comeback.  Please, click here on this link. Then click on the caption you like best. No pressure. Just so you know, I will be keeping track of who is voting for which caption, so please be aware that there may be some free Skittles OR a dirty monkey diaper in your near future. You make the call.

Thank you.

Mr. Skittles would now like to say something to all of you. I will translate as I am very fluent in monkey.

[Mr. Skittles screeching, banging fists on head, rapidly jumping up and down, running in circles]

Me likey circus peanuts!

[Mr. Skittles scratching his head, picking off a bug, eating it, jumping onto my head, screeching at the top of his lungs and banging his fists in my face]

Me think crazy lady must change diaper again!  

Oh, haha! Aren’t you a little excited! Why thank you, Mr. Skittles! Very moving speech, indeed.

Now go and vote for the best caption. Only the best one. I know mine’s nowhere near the best. And I know we are so far behind in the poll now that all we will succeed in doing is giving Pegoleg a little scare. That’s okay. So just vote for the one you like. Mr. Skittles and I will forgive you.

I hope.

P.S. I would like to take this moment to let you all know I have some big news. As you may know, Mr. Skittles was gone for a long time, out traveling the world, sowing his wild oats and well….he is now a father. That’s right. He’s a dad. A proud papa of an adorable little bundle of joy that is currently starving, trapped in a cage, and missing his daddy back home. Don’t let this sway your vote in any way. Just thought I’d let you know.

Dada?….Please win the caption contest! I’m hungry…so very hungry…please, daddy, please come home!

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Hey! I’ve Got Something to Tell You…! (maybe)

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Our current culture is driven by drama.  Some of it real, most of it imagined. Seems like these days everything has to be packaged into little sound bites in order to get our attention. With all the digital technology out there– and because we now have the attention spans of a gnat– we have to be crafty with what we throw out there. We need a hook. Things have to be almost like a cliffhanger if we are to get anyone to notice us and our humdrum existence.

For example, once on Facebook, a friend of mine posted in her status update: At ER!!! That was it. Nothing about who was at the ER, why they were at the ER, if anyone was dying or not. Just ‘at ER’. After a flood of concerned comments she posted again: False alarm, just a migraine!

For fun, I once posted on my facebook status a single word as a little experiment to see how people would respond. I typed: Oregano. And then I sat back and waited. The comments flooded in and it turned out to be the most comment-generating status I have ever seen on my facebook page. That may say a lot about our social lives or just that oregano is a riveting conversation starter.

We all seem to want this attention, even if it’s brief. Even if it’s not a genuine crisis. My own 78 year old mother does it now.

I’ll come home and see a message on my machine (I know, I am the last person on the planet to still have a landline and an answering machine) I’ll hit play and her frantic voice fills the room, “Darla! Darla! Are you there? I know you’re there! Darla! I need you! Darla? Daaaaarlaaaa? I need–” then she’ll abruptly hang up. Naturally, my heart starts to race and I call her back, thinking the worst. “Mom? Are you okay? Is it your heart again? Do I need to call 911? Did you fall down? Did aliens come to abduct you? Did you eat an entire pan of brownies but there’s no milk? What is it?!” and they’ll be a long pause and then she’ll laugh and say, “Huh? Oh, no, dear. Goodness, nothing like that! I just wanted to tell you that on Dr. Oz he’s doing an entire show on pee and poop! Can you believe that? Poop!”

Why, yes, mom. I can believe that.

Cute Kiddo Quote of the Week: My nine year old son fell down and got a big scratch on his foot. He could have received the Academy Award for Best Actor for Dying a Slow and Painful Death. After he stopped crying, I tucked him in on the couch, brought him some apple juice and a cookie, turned the TV on Phinneus and Ferb and leaned in to hug him (he squirmed away) Then I asked him, “Do you need anything else before I go?”  Without missing a beat he grinned and said, “A twenty?” So after I brought him $20, I told him he could have it as long as he let me give him one hug. Who says money can’t buy love?

Shameless Begging for Votes I am in The Good Greatsby’s caption contest again.
Mr. Skittles and I would appreciate it if you’d take a second out of your busy day and throw us a vote. If you want. No pressure. Oh, and he wanted to tell you all something before I go…

Little monkey

Image via Wikipedia

After Maineiac lost her last caption contest in a crushing defeat to Peg-o-leg, I ran away. I was quickly captured and forced to live behind these giant yellow bars that I  probably could squeeze through enough to escape my captors and taste my glorious freedom, but since I’ve lost the will to live, I didn’t.

English: Saimiri sciureus. Français : Saimiri ...

Image via Wikipedia

I spent many long, cold and lonely days praying for Maineiac to have another shot at caption glory, my only sustenance a few rancid Circus Peanuts that had turned green from decay.

English: A small monkey. Singapore.

Image via Wikipedia

It’s been a brutal winter while waiting for my beloved owner to spring me from this hell. Time has not been kind: my fur now a ghastly white, my tired bones ravaged by arthritis, my face  forever frozen into a mask of unrelenting hope; hope that you will vote for Darla’s caption here. Or vote for The Life of Jamie, Ape No.1, HoaiPhai, or Perry Block. I will forgive you because theirs are funny as well.

So to sum up:
Mr. Skittles thanks you. Me good monkey. Me love you forever. Methinks Circus Peanuts taste like poop. If you don’t vote, then please send me some real food instead, preferably Hostess Twinkies. Ooh ooh ah ah!

Mr. Skittles Needs Your Help

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Over at Paul’s hilarious blog, The Good Greatsby, he is currently running his caption contest. Let’s be clear, this contest is the one and only thing I have to live for (well, there’s the kids…and my husband, I suppose…and chocolate) but other than those things, it’s my one goal in life to win this contest.

Peg, from the equally hilarious blog, Ramblings, has not only asked her own readers, but blatantly challenged you, my dear and loyal reader(s) to do the unthinkable: Vote for her. (I almost can’t even bring myself to type those blasphemous words, so I had to dictate to Mr. Skittles.)   If you don’t know what I’m referring to, it’s all in the world’s longest post hijack under my heartwarming and soul-stirring post, Always Remember this Thing Called Love (click, then scroll way up the page a bit). I know, truly makes me and Mr. Skittles despondent beyond belief.

So please, find it in your heart, reach down deep inside your soul, click on that mouse and go over to the caption contest and vote for me. No, wait. Don’t vote for me– vote for pet monkeys everywhere who have had to suffer the cruel fate of living in the bowels of a  basement eating bologna sandwiches with the spiders– penniless and Pringle-less.

Sad Monkey

Thank you for your time.
ATTENTION: BREAKING NEWS! EXTREMELY IMPORTANT EARTH-SHATTERING NEWS IS BREAKING RIGHT THIS SECOND!

Okay, Peg. I’m gonna call a truce here. (your comment about the apple not even being brown killed me, still giggling at that one) You are funnier, dammit. It’s true. (weeping into Mr. Skittles soft fur)

(I step up to the podium, cameras snapping. Hair perfectly coiffed into a semi-Snooki poof. I lean into the microphones and break into my best Tiny Fey doing her best Sarah Palin voice):

I would like to thank all of my loyal voters, who have stood by me and who have had unshakable faith in me during these trying caption contest times. The lamestream media has spread countless lies about me and Mr. Skittles. It’s time we put an end to all of these vicious attacks on the America I’ve grown to know and love from way up here in Maine, which is still the U.S. of A. but maybe we’re just a wee bit too far away for you all to remember that we’re there, but we’re there alright–shootin’ and huntin’ and fishin’ with Mr. Skittles by our side. But I regret to inform you all, that I wasn’t even in the running in the first place. I was kidding. Yep, it’s true. You betcha. Now if you will all kindly turn your attention to the table in the back where I have stacks of my glorious new memoir: Mr. Skittles and I: Of Monkeys and Mavericks. I thank you.