Last night the apes created a new setting for the radioactive rectumometer that transported my anus to another dimension. This was a relatively welcome vacation from the relentless shredding and defiling my anus is used to. Somewhere, in a dimension that I like to imagine full of cherry-blossoms and sentient clouds, my anus reclines on a bed of morning dew.
In the meantime, I must defecate using a sweatsock the apes sewed into the end of my large intestine. I welcome the change.
Hollywood Ape peed on me at 5:00 this morning, and so I did not die of dehydration as I had resigned myself to. I hope to take this newfound energy and use it to find hope in the 8 new contestants we have drafted to take the apes back to the future. Will the apes take me? Will they undo their brutal slaying of my wife? Will they leave me behind so that I may teach mankind to cure space-syphilis before the great culling of 2017? Only time will tell.
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