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The long suffering blog of the Impossimal creators...

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Nosmo King

Being a gorilla you wouldn’t have thought I would have to put up with this rubbish. Only today I opened Bananas Weekly, the magazine for discerning banana collectors only to have six leaflets drop out on to my hairy lap. It drives me bananas, I already get enough crap through the bars of my cage, last week I had three takeaway menus, one offering cleaning services, two charity bags and an Avon brochure, although that did come in handy and the lipstick I have bought looks stunning.

As the leaflets dropped I reflected on my life, here I am in my mid forties and already advertising is tormenting me to consider a future chipping in for my funeral arrangements at 14p a day, fashion essentials up to sizes 34 that don’t take into account how gorillas walk and 2p electronic tickets so I can play Bingo with my laptop sat in a tree. Really, is that all there is to look forward to? No, hang on, there’s two more leaflets, ‘Shower and bathe in comfort and safety again’, I didn’t even realise it had got dangerous and no, I do not want to buy a charm bracelet strictly limited to 4,995 worldwide that comes in 27 parts at £24.99 a month for four months no matter how luxurious or radiant it is.

I noticed the new classifieds section at the back of Bananas Weekly has been hijacked too. ‘Remove facial hair instantly’, bitch, please! ‘Win this luxury riser recliner’, I’m sure it works perfectly well and gives aid to those that need it but the damn thing looks a little too lethal to me and I’d imagine I’d get my coconuts trapped in the gaps as it started to tip. Half price cotton sandals that are apparently ‘rugged’ its a wonder they didn’t add all terrain but they are described as ‘a treat’.

See if you can guess what uses these descriptions, ‘you can upgrade’, ‘converts in seconds’, ‘40% more powerful’ and finally ‘fast and manoeuvrable’, I nearly fell out of my tree, it sounded awesome, as I wrote out my cheque using my Parker pen and squinting through my reading glasses I realised with some degree of disappointment it was in fact a 2 in 1 vacuum cleaner and not a sports car.

Putting down my magazine I notice the hyenas are laughing for some reason. I swung over to see what was so funny only to find this unamusing sign.

Really, life just gets worse doesn’t it. Not content with bombarding me with rubbish now they want to tell me what to do. Well, bitch, please! I do what I want.

Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

 

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