on the one hand, i'm really hopeful that simba the pirate cat finds his way home safely because he's a brave warrior. but on the other hand, i'm a little worried about him because he's also a lover boy and could easily fall victim to a good ear scratch he can't walk away from.
but just when i thought the day couldn't get any better, we wound up at a local coffee house listening to a jazz band, which featured a laptop rolling the audio of a talking (cackling? squealing? howling?) monkey throughout the entire set... this is what was going on in my (and i'm sure every other patron's) head:
"wow, lots of good beatnicks here tonight...what is that sound? hmm... maybe i want a steamed milk or somethi...what in the world is that sound? this band is pretty decent, except the drummer plays with his mouth constantly opening and closing like a fish. meh, that's musicians for you... what in the world? where is that monkey sound coming from? wait... are you serious? the monkey is part of the band? wow."
and that's when we left because we don't condone monkeys mixing with jazz.
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