Monkey, Monkey, Monkey Man

Strange, the passage of time. I’m not that old. I’m 35, that is not old. But I am in a new phase right before old called “gross.” I never knew about this, but I am now gross. I am damp all the time. I am damp now and I will be damp later. Like the back of a dolphin, my back. I am slick. The butt part of my pants is a little damp a lot and I don’t think it’s anything serious; but isn’t it, though? And I’ll be sitting at a restaurant and I’ll get up and I’ll be like, “What did I sit in?” And it was me. I’m gross now. I’ve been talking through burps. I never used to do this. When I was a kid and I wanted to burp, I’d be like, “Silence!” Blagh! Now I’m trying to push ’em down and muscle through ’em. I’ll be at dinner, just doing the bread and the seltzer, filling up like a hot air balloon, and then I’m like, “Did you say you were going to Italy? Because we have a travel– She has a travel agent if. I’m going to the kitchen, does anyone need anything? From the… [belches] Anyone need anything?” Just take a pause, John! I’m gross.

I have hair on my shoulders now. I don’t even have a joke for that. That’s how much I hate that shit. I was sitting up in bed a few weeks ago like… [groans] You know, life. And my wife was rubbing my shoulders, which was very nice of her, but then she started singing to herself. “Monkey, monkey, monkey man.” [audience laughing] “Monkey, monkey, monkey man.” Not at me. Not to be mean. This was a song from deep in her subconscious. I don’t even think she was aware she was singing it. But it was certainly not the first time she had sung it. I don’t know what my body is for other than just taking my head from room to room. And it’s not getting any better. I’m 35, but I’m still like, “Hey, when am I going to get big and strong?” This is it. It’s just going to be this. I’m like an iPhone, it’s going to be worse versions of this every year, plus I get super hot in the middle of the afternoon for no reason.