Monkey Monday: Ewwww

This week, authorities in Florida issued a public warning: Don’t touch the wild macaques. Normally, I’d be like, “Up yours, authorities!” because I’m a rebel and I’ve liked pawing monkeys ever since I saw my first Sprockets.

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Man, you know the answer’s yes…

However, in this case I’m siding with the nanny state. Why? Because the monkeys, and I can’t believe I’m typing this, but 25% of the monkeys have herpes. Monkey herpes. Now, normally that’s all I’d need to hear. “Stay away from herped up monkeys? Can do, Mr. Postman!” But before I acquiesce, I have a few questions. Most importantly, how the fuck do monkeys get herpes? Did they fuck a bunch of Floridians? Or more likely, did a bunch of Floridians fuck some monkeys? Ha! I’m just kidding. But no I’m not. Because that’s what happened, according to Dr. Russel of the CDC:

“We’ve seen a significant uptick in contagion stemming from simian-human relations, mostly from mouth-to-mouth contact, however various other forms of skin exposure are considered necessary to have caused the current outbreak.”

Now the fact is, I made that quote up. There’s no Dr. Russel at the CDC. And the CDC doesn’t exist. But you got to admit, you believed it, right? Of course you did! Because Florida is basically a shitty sweatbox. A shitty sweatbox where 25% of the monkeys have herpes. Which is half as many as the rest of the Floridians. Gross.

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