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                                        Author: Blaine                                         (---.ph.ph.cox.net) 
                                        Date:   05-03-06 16:56 
                                                                                 THAT AIN'T MUD THEY'RE SLINGIN'* 
 
by Colonel Drunky Bob  
 
MONKEYS are funny 
like monkeys will be. 
They swing from their vines 
and they hang from their trees. 
 
But the funniest thing 
that monkeys will do, 
is get into fights 
with their own monkey poo. 
 
They'll spend hours it seems 
just volleying clumps, 
back and forth at each other, 
like monkeys are chumps. 
 
And the rest of the monkeys 
watch intently and chatter, 
like slinging means something -- 
like poo slinging matters. 
 
And as it turns out 
there is something more to it. 
Something much deeper, 
that makes them go to it. 
 
It seems that the monkeys 
aren't just slinging poop. 
It's a battle for power -- 
for reign o'er the troupe. 
 
See monkeys don't worry 
about campaigning funds. 
They just use what's handy -- 
what's fresh from their buns. 
 
They don't worry about image 
-- it would be hard to do -- 
when you're struggle for might 
is centered 'round poo. 
 
They just get to business 
and stake out their claim, 
and in the end choose the monkey 
that has better aim. 
 
And when it's all over, 
this crusade of poo, 
the monkeys get back to 
the things monkeys do. 
 
Like grooming each other, 
cleaning poo from their fur, 
and the whole troupe's just happy 
that the troupe is secure. 
 
It's not important to monkeys 
which chimp's top banana, 
while lions and tigers roam 
round the savanna. 
 
No, monkeys arenít are bothered 
by which chimp is king. 
They realize, that really 
it don't mean a thing. 
 
In the end all the monkeys 
get back to their lives, 
protecting their babies, 
bananas and wives. 
 
So admire their poo fights 
even if it seems wrong, 
cause no matter the outcome 
monkeys still get along. 
 
Better yet, let's be monkeys 
and do what monkeys do. 
Let's get Bush and Kerry 
a big bucket of poo . . .  
 
and let them fling poo 
til all the poo's flung. 
Til their Brooks Brother's suits 
are all sullied with dung. 
 
Then we'll choose us a leader 
and we'll be monkey-giddy, 
about choosing the one 
that's a little less shitty. 
 
It would be a great system, 
this choosing with poo. 
A little malodorous, 
        but that's nothing new. 
 
Monkeys get it
  
                                                                            
                                    
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