Citations for Accomplishments in Idiocy

While is may not be at all necessary to give awards for being stupid, we find that it is indeed necessary to call attention to stupid people so that they may be shamed into better employment of the gray matter we assume is lodged inside their skulls. However, we must first offer some disclaimers to prevent as much tardy complaining as possible.

1) One of the pillars of Monkism is a belief in originality; because we value it so dearly, we're not going to bother mocking those tards that have already suffered so much (mostly deserved) public humiliation. Everyone knows they're dumb already--let's give it a rest.
2) The only order that the citations fall into is that of chronological occurrance. Order should in no way be assumed to confer importance on one particular idiot over another.
3) These citations in no way represent the plethora of stupid people in the world. If you feel unjustly overlooked, please click here, print, fill out for yourself, and then understand there is no way, not even if a million ninja monkeys worked for a million monkey years, that we could accurately call attention to all the imbeciles in the world. There are simply too many.
and now, without further ado, we give you...
Citations for Accomplishments In Idiocy

Award Number Five: Best Idiot Veganism on National Television

Want to make sure no one misses this so, yep, putting it right at the top. This award goes to the biggest jerk we've seen possibly in the history of the Ninja Monkey Fort. She is such a cunt that hours after our first encounter with her, NMB was still ranting, and days after our final encounter we are all left with a bad taste in our mouths.

Of course you have probably gathered from the title of her citation that award number five is going to Barbara Gates, the evil vegan bastard on the most recent episodes of (shudder as we do to admit familiarity with any reality tv, especially this show) Trading Spouses.

Barbara sucks so bad, she's getting a photo posted:

Just look at how much she sucks!

For those of you who missed the show (and really, if you like poking fun at vegans, you should try and catch a rerun or something--Barb offered TONS to mock) let's review her most wonderfully offensive scenes:
1. Though a preachy bitchtastik vegan who tries to force the child of her new family, ZZ, to stop drinking soda because it's unhealthy, she smokes.
2. When helping ZZ with his homework, she insists that monkeys is spelled "monkies." When ZZ explains the grammatical rule to her (that for any word with an "ey" ending, the plural remains "ey") she says, "You should really listen to me on this because I know I'm right."
3. She makes ZZ brush his teeth about 30 times, and then he cries.
4. In the midst of her vegan preaching, she finds time to hit the family dog and force his face in urine. Nice one!
5. At a party for her new family's friends she serves only vegan food, then puts on a horrific animal rights/vegan propaganda movie and starts crying. Obviously this clears the room.
6. When she hears that her husband has been given 10k of the 50k prize for his garden, she is visibly pissed; in between moments of snapping, "Lucy STOP IT!" at her child, she sobs, "I just didn't expect this!" and then cries harder when she hears that some of the money will be going toward getting a jacuzzi. Only when she hears that the remaining 20k will go to her does she perk up, and when her husband asks if she will use it to buy him a new car (because apparently he is in desperate need of one) she laughs evilly and says, "No."

Fuck you, Barbara. You are the reason people from California have a bad reputation--and after seeing you behave like you did, I kind of feel like we deserve it.

For more detailed examples of how bad Barb sucks, go here.

Award Number One: Best Idiotic Behavior in the Work Place

This award goes to an idiot who not only violated the privacy of and harassed two of her female coworkers, but took on the added idiocy of doing the same to one of her bosses. Not only did everyone find out, but they had concrete proof: Idiot Number One had saved roughly 200 hundred pages of correspondence detailing her actions on a company computer, obviously not her own. She was promptly fired and replaced by a much nicer, non-insane employee.

Weeks later, working on the computer that used to be hers, fun tidbits of added stupidity were discovered when the auto-complete offered possible completions to what was being typed; here is what Idiot Number One was looking for in the Google search engine:

Renee and Luuren�s Special Page
hurrican
koolaid stains, carpet
$469K, k, meaning*
coustume jelewery
what is a british weekend called?
why is the world so dangerous?
pictures of tori spelling�s wedding
first and foremost, meanin
free lancers health insurance**
Private Psycho Lessons, torrent***

And we shit you not, Private Psycho Lessons appeared in the Google search bar. Apparently Idiot Number One had been schooled...

* There were several options concerning the meaning of a monetary amount paired with the letter 'K'. We assume this to mean that Idiot Number One was unaware that 'K' indicated 'thousands'.
** as in, �I am a free lancer. I am free, and I lance�?
*** Update: obviously when brought to the attention of the wise and learned Pjosley it came to light that 'Private Psycho Lessons, torrent' was a query in search of what Pjos assumed must be a movie called "Private Psycho Lessons." A quick search of our own revealed that yes indeed, "Private Psycho Lessons" is a movie--an Anime Porn movie to be exact. Now there's a debate in the Monkey Fort over which is more disturbing, the fact that Idiot Number One was trying to download porn at work, or the fact that Idiot Number One was trying to download anime porn in the first place? To quote Pjos, "That's sick. That's not even real people, I mean, somebody had to draw that."

Award Number Two: Best Public Stupidity, Computer Science

Idiot Number Two wins this award by virtue of counseling on a subject he has no business being in a position to discuss. On the Tech Republic website, Idiot Number Two is posed this question:

Do undegraduates with experience stand a chance to get hired?

He offers this muddled, poorly written response:

Good question Experience or Certification

Personally if somebody has been just completed his certification then I wouldn't really give them a look in. Simply due to so many certifications being full of fantacy / perfect world ****.
How many certifications have you found that in the real world the answer is not correct or just doesn't cut it in reality.
Therefore if I have a choice I would definately take a body with Experience over a freshman graduate.
But if you have the oportunity to get somebody that is educated / certified and has a few years hands on .. FANTASTICO

From: [email protected] Date: 08/12/04

While Rob may actually be in a position to hire a new "body," it is apparent to the Ninjas that he shouldn't be. Not only can't he spell, he can't use proper punctuation and he throws on an all-caps FANTASTICO at the end. Rob is definitely a unitard at the very least and has no business answering queries from anyone. Tech Republic, boo to you.

Aware Number Three: Best Idiocy In Furniture Delivery

Congratulations to the delivery people at Seaman's Furniture on winning the coveted third-ever Ninja Monkey Citation for Accomplishment in Idiocy!

This tardish behavior spans several instances which I will now describe for you below:

1) Delivery attempt number 1
A month ago we bought a furniture package from Seaman's that included 2 couches and 3 tables; the couches were delivered immediately but the tables, they said, would take two weeks. This was fine with us because, as I mentioned long ago, we had no furniture in the Fort for a long time and what was another two weeks without tables? Anyways, about a week later we got a notice in the mail that the tables would be delayed for another month. Again, though, it didn�t really matter because it�s not like we�d learned to live with tables and would suddenly be denied their table-y goodness.

The month passed pretty easily (what with the drunken boxing matches and pillow fights) and around the 27th it occurred to me that tables might be on the way. I called the store to ask and they said the tables would be coming on the 29th. Unfortunately, our delivery acceptance dude, Pjosley, was in San Diego on important Ninja Advisory Business and would not be back until the next day; I of course called the store to reschedule delivery and they were accommodating and gave me a new delivery date for the next week.

This is where the tardery begins, because this award goes not to the store itself, but to whomever they contract their delivering out to. The next day, the cancelled delivery date, I got a phone call from some very confused non-English speaking men. They told me to come outside and let them in. I tried to explain that I was at work, not in my apartment. They said �We here�garble�furniture�garble�Can you open door?� I said again that I wasn�t there, that I�d already rescheduled delivery. I think eventually they figured that since they weren�t being let in, I wasn�t there and they should just leave; we didn�t really resolve the conversation or anything, we both just hung up and that was that.

2) Delivery attempt number 2
The next week Pjosley was home and totally prepped to receive tables. All they had to do was ring the buzzer and he�d have let them in and then we would�ve had tables. Simple, right? Well, apparently not. Apparently ringing the doorbell was far too much for the delivery dudes to handle. Around 1pm I got a phone call from a non-English speaking delivery guy telling me that he was at my apartment and I should let him in. Here is our conversation for those of you who weren�t there:

Me: (in confused voice) Hello?
DM: Yes, we tables inside?
Me: Ring the doorbell.
DM: Yes, you come outside.
Me: No, I�m not in my apartment. I�m at work. You have to ring the bell so my roommate can buzz you in.
DM: Yes, buzz in.
Me: No, I�m not there. My roommate is there. Ring the bell.
DM: No one is there.
Me: (angry sigh at roommate�s apparent absence from house) Are you sure?
DM: Yes, no there. Let us in?
Me: Let me call my roommate.

Here is where I hang up and call Pjosley about 10 times. He doesn�t answer and I start to get pissed off. I try to call the delivery guys back and tell them to leave because obviously Pjos is MIA, but their phone doesn�t accept calls. Since I can�t get through, I call Pjos 10 more times. Eventually the delivery guys call me back.

Me: Hello?
DM: Yes, you let in?
Me: I�m not home. My roommate is supposed to be there but I guess he�s not. You should try the doorbell again.
DM: Yes. Let us in.
Me: Look, I�m not there. I�m at work. Did you ring the bell?
DM: Yes, we try.
Me: And no one answered?
DM: You let in?
Me: Why don�t you try ringing the buzzer again?
Dm: No one is home?
Me: Ring the bell!
DM: Potato?
Me: Um, I think we have to reschedule (reschedule is apparently one of the few words they understood).
DM: Ah, you reschedule? Okay, Bye Bye.

They hung up and then an English-speaking woman called me and I explained the situation (happy to have someone who at least understood me) and she said, �Alright, just call the store and reschedule.� Now, at this point I was getting a little upset about not having tables only because I�d been telling myself all week tables on Friday, tables on Friday, and I was annoyed that Pjos had apparently forgotten about the delivery and wandered off somewhere to buy parsley or something. Of course, I didn�t have the whole story until Pjos returned my million phone calls about 15 minutes later. Here is that conversation:

Me: Tables!
Pjos: Oh, really?
Me: Where were you?
Pjos: Um, here.
Me: Well they came and they rang the bell and you didn�t answer.
Pjos: Um, really?
Me: Yeah. They called my phone.
Pjos: Well, I�ve been here the whole time and the bell didn�t ring.
Me: They said they rang the bell.
Pjos: Well, our bell is a loud bell, and the UPS guy came earlier and he rang the bell and I got the package just fine.
Me: Those liars. I knew they didn�t ring the bell.

This left us awaiting another table shipment the next week, apparently because they delivery guys were too lazy to lift a single finger and push #1H (though notably not too lazy to repeatedly call my phone and harass me at work).

3) Delivery Attempt Number 3, final attempt

So I gave Pjos the taks of rescheduling the table delivery. I told him to make sure and give them his phone number so that they could call him if there was another doorbell fiasco, which he did. The tables were scheduled to be delivered this morning. In preparation, Pjos wrote himself a note, turned his phone ringer on, and I made sure to leave my phone with him (he put it prominently on his desk) just in case.

This afternoon I received an email from the Pjos. He said, "This time they rang the bell. I heard it and buzzed them in and managed to catch them before the got on the elevator. We now have tables."

Yes, we do--and now the delivery men have a citation for excellence. Excellence in Idiocy.

Award Number Four: Best Choir-Related Idiocy

See how quickly these accumulate?

Saturday night Pjos, NMB and I (NMR) were riding the subway home from the West Village (for some reason we could not get a cab to save our lives) and one stop after we got on these four morons in knitted hats and gloves got on, too. It was a group of 2 girls and 2 "guys" (allegedly--fucking choir pansies) who decided that instead of maybe sitting down and relaxing quietly like normal subway riders, they were going to sing. But they weren't just going to sing boisterous pop songs like normal 2 am subway riders who've decided to spontaneously sing, oh no! No, they were going to sing choir music. That they'd practiced. A million times before.

We three drunk monkeys immediately snapped our attention in the direction of the horrible high-pitched falsettos and spent the next 10 minutes trying to absorb the reality in front of us: 28 year old virgins? singing hymnals? on the subway? at 2 am? As a thirteen year old girl would say, WTF? Once we realized that no, they were not fucking kidding us, we started praying aloud that they would stop. When that didn't work we started mocking them, probably much more loudly than we were aware of at the time (hazard of alcohol). And when that didn't work we started hoping that the angry looking dude across from us would take a step past the hateful glances he was shooting their way and, you know, really shoot them.

They rode almost the entire way back to our stop with us, singing the whole time, and when they got off I started clapping loudly and cheering, and the angry dude did too.

Only a serious asshole would sing choir music on the subway at 2 am; no one EVER wants to hear a stranger sing (I don't care what you think, lady, just because you've been grooving along to Shania Twain for the past four years in your car does NOT mean you have a good voice and even if it did it would NOT mean that anybody else would want to hear your sing!) let alone a GROUP of Charles Dickens looking motherfucks like you.

click here to visit Ninja Monkey Wave's Tard of the Week (note: this is the only tard of the week. ever.)