All the news that's fit to tell

Ninja News Daily

November 26th: Pointless Observation
    So the other week we were sitting around watching this award show and Gwen Stefani was the opening act, and when she came on and I heard her song I was like, "Man, Ninja Monkey Blue, who does that remind you of exactly?" NMB answered me with a blank stare and said, "Um, I don't know..." It was painfully obvious to me, so I pressed her; "Come on," I said, "You know who." She squinted in thought and shook her head. "Um," she said. "Christ," I rolled my eyes, "Fucking Cyndi Lauper?" NMB squinted again. "This song sounds just like She Bop," I said. "Um," she said, "I don't know that song," and I bowed my head in shame.
    In any case, I have pointlessly observed that Gwen is positioned to become a sort of nouveau Cyndi and to illustrate this for NMB (mostly because without her and Pjosley around I have buckets of time to kill but also because, as usual, there's nothin' doin' at work) I made a collage of photos comparing Gwen and Cyndi. So here you go, most pointless thing of the month, the photo collage.

November 24th: Dpeople Schmeepeople
     Tonight, NMB and Pjosley quit the Ninja Monkeys� Fort to head north for a meeting with Ninja Monkey Han. This will leave me, Ninja Monkey Red, alone and relatively vulnerable to an attack from the Dpeople. Rumblings have been passing through the Ninja Monkey community since early last week warning that the Dpeople may have begun to mobilize with the intent to strike.
     I am unafraid. To the Dpeople I have but one thing to say: Bring It On.
    In other news, it's come to our attention that Archure's guestbook is back up and running; this is great because ever since we first laid eyes on his amazing page of amazingness we've wanted to get in touch with him (in a way that wasn't too in touch, though, because in spite of our love we still find him pretty creepy) to tell him how thoroughly he rules. After signing the guestbook (as "Archure Fan") I scrolled through the entries and came upon a horribly disturbing comment by Jenny. She wrote,
     "What a wonderful site. I have never laughed so hard in all of my life. This is by far the best parody website I have ever seen! I called several of my friends and they came over to check it out..."
     The idea that Archure's site is based on anything beyond to most genuine of tardiness has shaken all of us, especially poor Cheeky Monkey (who believes that Archure may in fact be God incarnate) to the core. A parody site? Can Jenny be serious? And if she's right, if Archure's mass of sociopoliticoreligious commentary and health advice is nothing more than a joke, what does it say about the Ninjas? I urge everyone to visit Archure's page, examine it in depth, and then please let us know: did we seriously miss the boat on this one? Is it possible that this isn't real? And if so, where do we go from here?
    To soothe the pain that Jenny's comment may have caused, please also visit the Ninja Monkey Link of the Day: AGSMA for some laughing good times (we don't know either...).

November 22nd: blah
    Blah blah blah watched tv blah blah drank vodka blah blah blah blah blah.

November 12th: Drunken Monkey
     Yesterday NMB pulled a highly uncharateristic move: upon arriving home from work she headed directly into the kitchen to make herself a vodka and raspberry ginger ale. By 8:30 she was nice and toasty, providing Pjos and I with a hearty dose of entertainment; it marked the first time she's ever gotten wasted while we remained sober (often, Pjo and I drink while she sips water on the couch and feigns awareness) though I did eventually get a little toasted there myself... Anyways, kudos to NMB in her advancement toward better-realized alcoholism!
     Beside that, there's frightfully little else to report from Ninja Monkey home base, and so I will instead, today at least, be focusing on Ninja News International:

* Pixy Ninja Monkey is happy to report she has managed to sneak her way into the White House and bite out George Bush's tongue. You won't hear about it in the papers, however, as the Bush camp has simply replaced the president with a cotton-stuffed sock puppet and will for the next four years be carrying it around from briefing to briefing; obviously no one is expected to notice a difference. Side bar: I hear they refer to it, in private, as "Manny."

* Ninja Monkey Sunshine is making headway in her attempt to sprout wings. She has spent the past several weeks in a state of prolongued meditation and reports that 'two little nubs, sort of like tiny shark fins' have sprouted on her back. We look forward further reports on the progress of the Ninja Monkeys' first ever flying monkey.

* Cheeky Monkey believes she has found a soul mate in our new favorite guru-OF-web-design-And-University-education-High-IQness, Archure. She is presently planning a relocation to Las Vegas where she will establish a new Ninja Monkey post complete with gambling, hookers, and all that other good Nevada shit.
P.S. if you haven't read Archure's views on Fish and Sex, or listened to his bomb ass music, you are totally missing out.

* Ninja Monkey Wave continues the fight against Janet and other West Coast Tools. Presently, he appears to have recovered the Sword of Wealth and used it to rip Janet a new one. Janet prefers that the new one be referred to as 'Betty.' We think Betty and Manny should perhaps get together to discuss those tenets of the US Constitution that they are both, at present, violating, namely Article XIIVIX, "Improper conduct on the part of a puppet and/or new orifice," and Article XIIXIXIXMVP, "Unrightful consumption of pitted fruits."

* Lastly, and this is just a small note, we apologize for not yet having taken our "Sorry World" photo (see below) but would nonetheless like to encourage all of you to take one, if only to spite us--and, really, how often do you get a chance to spite a monkey? That's right--not bloody often enough.

November 9th: A World of Sorry Fools
     I didn't think there was any news today, but then Pixy Ninja Monkey sent me a link and it made me happy. It also impressed...or something'd...me enough that I felt compelled to share it with everyone (please refrain from mocking me if I'm the last one on the boat here): Sorryeverybody.com. When I get home tonight, we are SO taking one of these photos...

November 8th: Got Brain?
     This weekend Pjos was watching the news and saw a piece about this ad campaign running on NYC buses. The advertisements that ran on about 200 buses across the city in recent months carried posters displaying a suggestively posed woman in hot pants kneeling among a pile of books beside the snappy slogan "Read Books, Get Brain," says an article from expressindia.com. Apparently the story goes that the ads had been running since September and only recently (i.e. November 1st or so) did the oldies at the MTA learn that "Brain" is the "street-slang" equivalent of getting head. Once they had been told that the ad was offensive, they promptly pulled it.
     How ridiculous is this? It's the same as if I were wearing a shirt with a bunny holding a flower on it and everyone was walking around saying, "Wow, what a nice shirt with a bunny on it! I like that flower he's holding!" and then two months later I was like, "Oh, yeah, this is a symbolical representation of the fact that I like to get peed on during sex." Nothing about the actual content of what is being displayed has changed, just your interpretation of it.
     This whole thing supports my dislike of old people: they just don't get it. And for a long time I was thinking that through the ages people have probably been annoyed with old people and how little they get, but then it occurred to me that at this point in history there is SO MUCH for them to not get that they're probably much more annoying than say in 1800 when the only thing they might not get was how to work a gaslight. Very few people past the age of 60 seem to understand how society operates these days; they move in that slow, small-town-America pace that went out of style in urban centers like New York probably 30 years ago at least. Man, old people...

November 5th: Updates
   Every once in a while you come across something and you just go, "Damn, I have to show this to everyone!" Such are the two new additions to the Links page, Archure.net and Phoons.com--I'm not saying anything else, just check them out and you'll see what I'm talkin' 'bout.
     Alright, I will say a few more things about Archure because I just love him (note: his name is not Archure, it's just what Cheeky and I have wound up referring to him as; I think his actual name is Chris) and his freakishly huge site.
     First thing to keep in mind about Archure: he is a genius. It's hard for highly intelligent people to get along in the world, so be sympathetic while reading his various articles.
     I know that I've only scratched the surface as far as this page is concerned, but I have to insist everyone read the personal ad (though don't write him--Cheeky's called dibs), the *exellent* page of movie reviews (I too think that a little sex between Bill and Scarlett would've made Lost in Translation much better...shudder), and the scores of sexual advice and information he offers (because when I'm looking to learn things, I find the best policy is to just skip over all those credible books by learned people and instead trust whatever I might find on a random personal page by some dude in Vegas).
     But wait, that's not all: there's also a plethora of music for you to enjoy. Rock, pop, reggae--Archure does it all (with his Casio keyboard) and he's posted it just for you! There's also his resume (he has three, count 'em THREE AA degrees) and a lot of mostly-creepy photos of himself doing this weird angling-my-head-because-I'm-taking-the-photo-myself thing. He may not get laid often, but Archure is definitely a keeper!
     (Note: while I do admit feeling a good amount of guilt over laughing at someone who is sort of undeserving--in the sense that all humans have feelings--I nevertheless recognize how absolutely funny he is and thus feel obligated to spread his gospel to those of you who might not visit somethingawful.com every day when you're bored at work and may have, as a result, missed this when it was the awful link. On the off chance that Archure ever sees this, I hope he'll know that I appreciate him more than words can convey and can't wait to further plumb the depths of his page).
     Also, in a final newsy note, last night I went to a reading for Vice Magazine's Do's and Don't's book. I got a notice from Vice that this was happening and I just thought "Man, now there is a reading for me!" (Traditional readings of poetry and prose are so fucking lame I want to slap whoever came up with the idea; they attract only those people so socially awkward as to have been banished from the likes of Renaissance Faires and Star Trak conventions, and they all sit there in their knitted parkas reading along in their own copies of the book and nodding thoughtfully at everything. And the worst is when the reader makes his one luke warm attempt at a joke and they laugh for like ten minutes, like he's fucking Dennis Leary or something--Christ, I should write them up on the page of bad stuff I hate them so fiercely).
     Anyways, I saw that Vice was coming and I just thought, "Mockery and political incorrectness in live form? Sweet!" so I went. It was pretty funny, too; there was no q&a session because "those are boring," and there was a slide show and a poop-shaped hat-and-wand. The best part, though, was that the woman who was obviously the I'm-in-charge-of-readings-in-this-store woman was so completely NOT AMUSED by what was happening. This woman is the exact reason I hate traditional readings, and the whole time we were watching Gavin (the author/reader of the evening) discuss the Do's and Don't's photos projected onscreen, she was standing beside a bookshelf scowling at the way us crude jerks were defiling her precious literary world. It still makes me smile to imagine her watching it, thinking, "He just fake-pissed himself in the exact spot where Amy Sohn stood."
     At the end of the reading I got my copy of the book signed even though shit like that makes me feel like a tool; Gavin wrote, "I liked you more than a friend," and drew an obscene gesture beside it. Now that's what I'm talkin' about.

November 4th: (no subject)
     I'm feeling a little non-sequitish today, so here's your news random-style:
     1) In addition to being sick of laziness, I'm sick of tiredness. We're dying every second--how is it possible that anyone can be content living in any way other than balls-out-reckless? Sleep? Fucking sleep when you're dead.
     2) My shoes are itchy
     3) It's finally getting cold in NYC, but it's still not cold enough to wear my big coat and that's annoying. The late-autumn coat I have isn't as hot as the late-summer or full-blown-freezing-winter ones, so I keep trying not to use it and wind up chilly (because, as I said, it's not cold enough to wear the big coat).
     4) Yesterday I went to the eye doctor and got a new prescription for contacts and picked up some new glasses. It's been about 10 years since I bought the frames I currently own, so it was a justifiable purchase. Also, I really liked my doctor--she was tiny and fun, like a bite size Reeses.

November 2nd: Michael Pitt is a hot, hot man.

November 1st: And I heartily approve
     Halloween did not suck. In fact, I had a pretty good ass time, and since I'm sure that after the Oct. 29th mention of my anxiousness about the holiday everyone is itching to know the deal, here it is...
     The Aye Aye came down from Boston on Saturday and us Ninjas were planning to go out and have a time. To ensure maximum energy we ordered a pizza and drank some vodka, then headed up to Swing 46 to hang with Yogi Monkey. We, of course, were fully costumed (and, might I add, looking something fierce): Pjosley as Krusty the Clown, NMB as Itchy (the mouse, you culturally inept fools), myself as Scratchy (the cat) and The Aye Aye as some sort of Greek person (which, by the by, caused lots of problems; some people just didn't like that she lacked a title--she was wearing a toga and laurel--others were confused by her role in the group) and of couse we turned out to be four of five (the fifth being Yogi) who had dressed up. Still, our costumes were so bad-ass that we didn't care at all; in fact, we pitied those who didn't have the prescience of mind to 1) plan something cool to be and 2) wear it out the night before Halloween. Obviously there was some swing dancing going on, though Pjosley and The Aye Aye were having none of it and eventually the five of us (Yogi joined the posse) decided to head out.
     This heading out brought us to one of the most special moments of the night: The Bros with 'Fros. You see, we had to catch a cab to this bar downtown so we walked to the corner and ran into about five tardy Bros, all wearing different kinds of 'fros. This was nearly special enough in itself, but then they went and made asses of themselves by meowing at me (they were probably the 5th instance of meowing-at-the-cat-because-it's-so-original that I'd experienced that night), grabbing NMB's mouse ears (not cool) and, in the best moment of all, responding to my comment that The Aye Aye was not a Greek Goddess, but was Socrates, by asking "What's that?"
     Post-Bro we went to a bar to hear this band; since Yogi is primarily into jazz I was expecting some crazy ass jazz fusion shit, but it turned out to be a raucous cover band that told offensive jokes between such classic songs as "Sweet Home Alabama" and "The Gambler"; I highly approved.
     Post-bar we went to a party where there was live jazz and cooked chicken (note: the jazz also cooked) and we stayed there for a little while before NMB played the tired card and we all went home.
     Because NMB had succumbed to her weakness, I became instantly worried that the same thing would happen on Halloween itself and the night would (as has been the trend) suck, but the next morning our Halloween fate was still yet to be determined. Obviously we all slept until 1 (NMB and Pjos slept on until 2:30) then smiled at the daylight savings hour jump backward that made us seem less-lazy than we knew we were.
     The Aye Aye peaced out around 5 (had to get back to Boston--important Ninja matters) and we slowly got our costumes on and prepared to go to the gigantic parade in Manhattan. We left at roughly 7:30 (damned delivery dude!) and went Union Square, then walked over to 6th Ave. There are photos--maybe you'll be lucky enough to see them.
     The parade was ridiculously crowded but we were all feeling jovial so didn't even care when we got crushed against a barrier on the corner of 6th and 10th for, like, 30 minutes. NMB and Pjos were hungry so after watching the parade (I use the term 'watching' loosely, however, because we could only see the part of the parade that was taller than the people standing in front of us) for a while we went to a diner and grabbed some grub.
     I must admit, it was verging on tame at this point, nearly wholesome--Parades? Sobriety? Diners?--and I was a little worried, though it was very early and I had some hope stored up.
     Foodly-satisfied, we walked back up to 14th St. planning to go to our favorite bar, but the plan fell through when we realized getting to our bar would mean crossing the parade, which wasn't 'bout to happen any time soon, so we turned around and went to Beauty Bar over on the east side.
     Even Beauty Bar was feeling tame. We were sitting in a little hallway type alcove on a couch pretty much by ourselves (there were some highly dull people across from us) sipping our drinks and sort of resting and it was almost like being at home but for the group of strangers in the front part of the bar.
     Luckily, Ninja Monkey Blue stepped it up. Who knows what did it--the extra drink? the random convo?--but something shifted NMB from getting-sleepy mode into rocking-out mode, and then the party turned into a par-tay.
     We met an Englishman with a huge pink bat.
     We danced to MJ.
     We got a free Kiss mask from a farmer, and left for home at a justifiably late hour.
     But did the fun end there? Of course not! While waiting for the subway we used Pjosley's new and fucking cool as shit camcorder/camera to take photos and video. We made an Itchy & Scratchy short film and then, in a stupendously excellent moment, filmed a tap-dancing NMB singing some song that I don't remember but know was great. It's been a while since I've seen her come through with the nonsensical behavior and this is why I've written a whole news-clip about it: man, NMB kicks ass when she feels like it and ain't nobody gonna break her stride, nobody gonna slow her down...oh no, she gots ta keep on mov-in'.