Time to bring in the brass monkeys.
I consider myself fairly cold tolerant. I haven't put the liner in the leather jacket I use as a winter coat. Ever. I'm the guy you see in the grocery store in January wearing a sweatshirt, shorts, and Crocs.
But there comes a time when you cannot deny that 'tis the season to roll up the garden hose (don't have one), empty the bird baths (nope, none of those, either), and bring the brass monkeys (oh yeah), lest you have to spend all winter welding their bollocks back on. (And if you look real close, one still does have the old "twig and berries" attached.)
A few brass monkey thoughts:
- The origin that you think you know about the phrase is actually wrong.
- Yup, that monkey is holding this photo.
- No, that is not the limit of my monkey collection. But like Candy and her skulls, I am discerning on what is allowed in.
- Yes, I know they all aren't brass.
- Yes, in the early 90's I was in Mons, Belgium, and was photographed, "buffing the monkey." (Note, I am using the correct, left hand.)
But enough monkey business for one day.
Okay, maybe one more.
[EJC - 7:22 - Post updated so top picture would show in this frak'n narrow space.]