Portrait of Brad

Here is a portrait of me, sketched by
Ms. Blogapotamus, in honor of my being the 9928th visitor to her blog. I had no idea I was that handsome. Did you?

Blogapotamus also sent me this informative and invigorating article about the wonders and health benefits of the banana. Just be careful eating bananas around mosquitos. Mosquitos think bananas smell wonderful (well, they do), so much that they want to kiss anyone eating bananas. Have you ever been kissed by a mosquito? The sensation is remarkably akin to a mosquito bite.

Brad and Jayne, Resident Bad-Bottoms

My landlord and landlady asked me to babysit their daughter so that they could attend a weekend showing of the movie Serenity, based on the science-fiction & western television show Firefly. I was tempted to let them dangle awhile before telling them I would babysit (but there will be NO DIAPER-CHANGING on my part. I refuse to change diapers.) I've already seen the film myself, as Philip the Pun took me to a sneak-preview. (No, I'm not giving anything away, but yes, you should go see it.) Jayne Cobb is my favorite character. That should be no surprise, as he is quite rude. When I took the Firefly Personality Quiz, these are the results I got:

You scored as Jayne Cobb, resident bad-bottom. Jayne Cobb: HOLY SPATULA, BUT YOU ARE AWESOME! How awesome? So awesome that they named a town after you, complete with a statue, a parade, and eventually even a style of hat. Sure, you could be smarter than a mere summa cum laude, or sweeter than Fluffydoodle Smoochypants, or eat less fried-food than Stewy Stinker, but then you'd be absolutely perfect, and you need some semblance of humility... right? Then again, you are the sine qua non of the spaceship Serenity. Captain Malcolm Reynolds 75% Jayne Cobb, resident Bad-Bottom 75% Kaylee, the Mechanic 75% Inara, the "Companion" 50% Simon, the Doctor 50% Shepherd Book 50% RiVER 44% Wash, the Pilot 25% First Mate Zoe 25% FiREFLY QUIZ created with QuizFarm.com

Brad FAQ, Part II

Your questions continue to pour in via email and blog posts. Here is the second installment of Frequently Asked Questions, otherwise known as the Brad FAQ:


11) What are the names of your siblings and where do they live?
Answer: Shadrach (brother, older)—McMurdo Station, Ross Island (Antarctica)
Calliope and Marisol (twin sisters, younger)—Barcelona, Spain
Chadwick (brother, younger)—Virginia Beach, Virginia (United States)

12) Why is it that you never talk about your parents?
Answer: Because they’re my parents. Give me a break, will you!

13) How do you make “Green Goat” pizza?
Answer: Preheat your pizza stone in a 450 degree Fahrenheit oven. Take some pizza crust dough (I prefer whole wheat) and stretch it out into a circle. When your pizza stone is sufficiently heated, sprinkle corn meal on it. Place the raw dough on top of the corn-meal sprinkled stone. Quickly “paint” the dough with olive oil. Puree a bunch of spinach with a bunch of goat cheese, and put it on top of the dough. (You might want to prepare the spinach and goat-cheese mixture before you put the dough on the stone, as you should do everything quickly.) Sprinkle mozzarella cheese on top of the spinach and goat-cheese mixture, and then sprinkle pine-nuts on top of the mozzarella. Proportions are up to you. Bake in the oven between 9-12 minutes. When the pizza is done (Does it smell done? Then it’s probably done.), take a wooden spatula and remove the pizza from the stone. If you sprinkled cornmeal on the stone instead of skipping the step, the pizza should slide off with only a little bit of spatula-jiggling. If you skipped that step, you have a lot of cleaning up to do.

Brad’s secret to the success of making pizza: if you don’t know how to make pizza dough, buy it in a little baggie in the cold-food section of some. Around here, you can buy the dough at Trader Joe’s for $1.20 USD. If you like to make the dough yourself, by all means, knock yourself out. If the only thing that’s keeping you from making pizza is your lack of confidence in making the dough, it’s okay to let someone else make it for you. This is not Chicken Cordon Bleu. It’s just pizza. If you want Chicken Cordon Bleu, you’ll have to consult with Philip the Pun. I don’t cook the flesh of animals.

14) You are such an adorable gorilla! Are you sure that you don’t want to go on dates with anyone?
Answer: Yes.

15) What do you think of the theory of quantum mechanics and its applications to our society today?
Answer: I think that the theory of quantum mechanics is filled with possibilities.

16) Will you sketch my portrait?
Answer: Yes, for a fee of $200 USD (sliding scale upward based on how filthy rich you are.) I am a busy gorilla, and I need to work to pay for art school.

17) When are you going to run for mayor?
Answer: I am running for mayor right now. If you are a Seattle resident, please write in “Bradley the Gorilla” in the spot left blank for your convenience. If you’re not a Seattle resident, try it anyway. Most people could benefit from the Banana Tax Repeal.

18) Are you going to be in the Peter Jackson remake of “King Kong?”
Answer: I’m not at liberty to discuss any dealings with Peter Jackson.

19) What is the Latin translation for “I told you so?”
Answer: Q.E.D.

20) Where can I view film clips of Big Tim the Sock Monkey?
Answer: Right here.

Missing Sock Blues

Today, Ms. "Hippos Go Berserk" (aka Blogapotamus Rex) writes about her sorrow over the inevitable decline of summer giving way to the need to wear socks. I am lucky. I almost never have a problem with cold feet. If they happen to get a bit chilly, I just put them on Ulric when he's asleep and can't do much about it except bellow.

Here's a song straight from the Bureau of Missing Socks, dedicated to all of you whose toes have a penchant to turn into ten tiny blocks of ice. It's a blues number called "Can't Find My Socks" by Doctor Coconuts.

P.S. You could turn your socks into cuddly gorillas. Why should monkeys have all the fun?

P.P.S. In other news, Ms. Smoochypants has written an encomium to the heady fruit that is the wondrous
banana.

Make Way for Chadwick

Here is the infamous statue of my younger brother, Chadwick, proprietor of the Ocean Breeze Waterpark, VA. Fear not, I have my own commemorative statue at the Woodland Park Zoo here in the Pacific Northwest. (Shadrach, my older brother, claims he's due for his own statue down at McMurdo Station, but he probably won't get one until he finds a cure for ozone depletion.)

Photo by John Blough

Cute Little Box

I just got the upsetting news this morning that Cute Little Box is no longer with us in the blogosphere. There is an investigation underway, as there has been preliminary evidence of foul play. I would like to think that, like Elvis, all that has happened is that CLB has left the building. I shall keep my eyes open for CLB sightings. In the meantime, I am going to play Blue Christmas performed by the King himself.

I haven't felt this bad since Koko lost All-Ball.

Blue Christmas
(Billy Hayes - Jay Johnson)

I'll have a Blue Christmas without you
I'll be so blue thinking about you
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree
Won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me.

And the when those blue snowflakes start fallin'
That's when those blue memories start callin'
You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white
But I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas.

Requiescat in pace, Little Box.

Brad's Family Tree (of sorts)

Hitman J,

Here is your family tree. Rather, it is my family tree, but you asked for it, so you get to have it. Actually, it's a family and friend list. (You're not going to quibble about that detail, are you?) Trees are for monkeys, with all due (brand new) respect for Monkey's Deep Thoughts. I'm setting the post-date earlier, but for those who are sticklers for such things, I wrote this post on Tuesday, December 20, 2005.

Here goes:

Brad the Gorilla: the star of the show, the cream of the crop, in fact, The Top. Birthday: August 14th. Age: undisclosed (gorillas are quite cagey about such matters).

Calliope: Brad’s younger sister (twin of Marisol), lives in Barcelona, Spain
Chadwick: Brad’s younger brother, lives in Virginia Beach, Virgina, United States
Charlotte: Brad’s teenage niece, recently transplanted from Glasgow, Scotland
Fred: Brad’s adopted nephew, rather on the youngish side
Landlady: older sister of Ulric, married to the Landlord
Landlord: brother-in-law of Ulric, married to the Landlady
Lucia, the Landlord’s daughter: also the Landlady’s daughter, but it doesn’t quite roll off the tongue in the same way. Lucia is a toddler.
Marisol: Brad’s younger sister (twin of Calliope), lives in Barcelona, Spain
Mr. Gorilla: Brad’s father, rarely mentioned
Mrs. Gorilla: Brad’s mother, rarely mentioned
Shadrach: Brad’s older brother, lives in McMurdo Station, Ross Island, Antarctica
Ulric: younger brother of Brad’s Landlady

There are too many other relatives and associates to list arbitrarily. I shall add to the list as warranted.

The Meme Rats' Outrage

Automated spellcheckers should come with a disclaimer: a robot program is no substitute for a dictionary, Philip the Pun (fiercer and scarier with a blue pencil than Atilla the Hun could ever hope to aspire), or best of all, a Latin-speaking gorilla. Spellcheck is a harmless drudge of a servant but a wretched master. If nothing else, it ruins perfectly good poetry. For example, Lewis Carroll's paen to the English language, "Jabberwocky", becomes hopelessly garbled through the travesty that is Spellcheck. Read on. Prepare to be shocked. You may wish to keep your smelling-salts nearby.

Jabbermockery

'Taws billing, and the smithy toes
Did gyre and gamble in the wage.
All messy were the brogues,
And the meme rats' outrage.

'Beware the Jabberwock my son,
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch.
Beware the jujube bird, and shun
The furious bandersnatch.'

He took his viral sword in hand;
Long time the Manxwomen foe he sought.
Then rested he by the tom-tom tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in huffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffing through the bulgy wood,
And burbled as it came!

One! Two! One! Two! And through and through
The viral blade went snicker snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjious day! Saloon! Calais!'
He chortled in his joy.

'Taws billing, and the smithy toes
Did gyre and gamble in the wage.
All messy were the brogues,
And the meme rats' outrage.

Bradmix

Another Update: Thanks, Phil, for the link to the origins of "Mah Na Mah Na," plus the spelling correction. I'm in a gregarious mood this morning, but don't worry, once I have my coffee, I'll be back to my normal curmudgeonly self.

Update: check the sidebar for the streaming video of "Mah Na Mah Na." Thank you, Lady Hearteater, for bringing its existence to my attention. Your friend, Brad

Since my landlord and landlady won't let me use their car anymore (even going so far as to hide the keys from me), I am in the market for a car of my own. Of course, it's important to have a car music mix ready for that day. I've copied some of Ulric's Led Zeppelin and AC/DC mixes (old AC/DC, of course), but I needed something more eclectic for those eclectic moods. Here's what I've got so far:

Bicycle Race--Queen
On the Road Again--Canned Heat
Motorcycle Song--Arlo Guthrie
Surfing in Siberia--Red Elvises
Not Dead Yet--Styx
Ball Of Confusion--Love & Rockets
Jaan Pahechan Ho--Mohd. Rafi,et al.
Mah Na Mah Na--Muppets
Money (That's What I Want)--Flying Lizards
Cars--Gary Numan
Boogie Shoes--K.C. & The Sunshine Band
There's A Barbarian In The Back Of My Car--Voice Of The Beehive
When It Comes To You--Dire Straits
I Am The Walrus--Oingo Boingo Boingo

Now I've got to find a car. I can't just borrow one off the street anymore, because people are a bit touchy about that in this neighborhood, and they end up calling the police. I'm in the market for a lime-green Fiat. Anyone interested in making a trade? I could give you some of my art pieces.

Ban More Books!

Just so you know: As I pointed out in the comments section, this was a facetious post. Really, I want to ban book-banners. No more book-banners! Book-banners are poopy.

My landlady wants me to talk about Banned Books Week. She thinks that banning books is a bad idea. I, however, am all in favor of banning even more books than ever before. Here is my campaign button:

Brad's indispensable Latin phrases

Phrases for Everyday Use:

Hocine bibo aut in eum digitos insero?
Translation: Do I drink this or stick my fingers in it?

Caupo! Etiamnunc!
Translation: Bartender, another round!

Ita erat quando hic adveni.
Translation: It was that way when I got here.

A barrus operor non recordor.
Translation: Don't think of an elephant.

Addendum: Phil disagrees with my translation for "Don't think of an elephant." Phil writes:

"Recordor", I strongly suspect, is not really the correct verb. Well, first off the obvious Latin choices here for "elephant" and "think" are elephantus and cogitare, respectively. I had to look up barrus to see that it does indeed mean "elephant," though I suspect there's some particular connotation that my dictionary doesn't reflect. As for recordor, my dictionary lists that as "to recall, recollect, remember," which is exactly what I'd expect from the obvious source verb for record. In this case though, you might not want cogitare, "to think," after all, as the meaning of the phrase is closer to "imagine." Imaginari (to imagine), putare (among other things, to think, suppose or ponder), or even ponderare (to ponder) would be better.




Phrases for Special Occasions:

Pistrix! Pistrix!
Translation: Shark! Shark!

Braccae illae virides cum subucula rosea et tunica Caledonia-quam
elenganter concinnatur.
Translation: Those green pants go so well with that pink shirt and the plaid jacket.

Ductine haec via ad Capellam Sextinam?
Translation: Is this the way to the Sistine Chapel?

Aedificium Elvis exitus.
Translation: Elvis has left the building.

Brad for Mayor

I'm going to run for mayor of Seattle, and I'm going to win. I'm running on a "Save the Humans" platform. You need all the help you can get. Here is my preliminary campaign poster:

Rock All Night, Work All Day

Ulric the human is gone for the weekend! (He doesn't want me to refer to him by his real name anymore, so I'll use my landlady's name for him.) Ulric is attending his step-sister's wedding. Last night, Brutus, Fred, Filbert and I decided to have a much-needed celebration of our wild wooliness. My landlord refused to let me borrow the car, so we had to raid Ulric's stash of beer.















While we were celebrating, who should drop by but our old friends Sylvester and Wiley. It was almost like old times before Sylvester and Wiley went on to become stars in the television industry. I'm not bitter-- they did try their best to get me some gigs on their Saturday morning show, but the producers were rather stinky ahout hiring primates. The star of the show (no names here, but I'll give you a hint: his favorite food is carrots, and he likes to wear long blonde wigs) was a real prima-donna and said that no gorilla was going to upstage the program he'd worked so hard to bring to children all over the world. I know, it doesn't make sense, but that's show business for you. It probably has something to do with my eventual disgust for television. (Now, I just watch my old favorite shows on DVD.)


After awhile, we got so boistrous that Brutus ended up bringing the party to a close. Even though we were having so much fun, Brutus is one gorilla with whom you do not argue. Even Stewy Stinker quakes in his boots when Brutus shows up at the Green Dragon Inn. Brutus makes a little extra money as as bouncer, but he's been known to throw the owners out of their own pubs when he thought they were getting rowdier than their patrons. (Of course, Stewy Stinker always gets rowdier than his patrons, so you can imagine the resulting indignity. By the way, Stewy Stinker and I have made amends, though he still refuses to return my chili pepper apron. He says it looks better on him than it does on me. Hah!)






Today, I'm helping my landlord work on some of the overflow from Tony Dowler Consulting, Inc. (which my employees secretly call "Todoco.") My landlord said, "Never let me accept a job for an e-commerce website again... except for the next one I'm working on."

Here is my desk:
Tonight, we're all heading over to a birthday party for the landlord's daughter's best friend, Vitus.* There will be pizza and cake, but little does Vitus know that I'm bringing a special dish inspired by the Baked Alaska. It's called "Frozen Hawaii." I can't tell you the recipe (patent pending, after all), but if you're thinking of lava cake and ice-cream, you're on the right track.

*My landlady says that Vitus is named after the patron saint of oversleeping. He's three years old and more enthusiastic about getting up in the morning than any alarm clock you've ever met. At least he doesn't dance on his parents' heads anymore.

What Primate are You?

I took the quiz. My results:

"A massive brute, you prefer your mates brought to
you, have simple tastes and like a good scrap
with giant reptiles. You don't get on well
with technology so stay well out of the way of
civilisation."

I knew all that, of course, except for the part about not getting on well with technology. I'm doing just fine with HTML code, thank you. By the way, the simian depicted on poster does not look like a gorilla to me. He looks like a human being in an ape-suit. I have read that the new Kong is CGI. It's a pity. Had Peter Jackson tried a little harder, looked a little further, he might have asked a real gorilla to play the part. That real gorilla might have even consented to come out of retirement to act again for the big screen. (Of course, I'd make sure there was a fitting role for my friend Little Box, and I'd want Ms. Smoochypants to play the girl who screams when I carry her up the Empire State Building.)

Now, you take the quiz. Go ahead, here's the link. Let me know how it all turns out.

What Primate Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Going ape over baby gorillas

As it turned out, it was Shad, my older brother, who sent my landlady the baby photos. I can't believe it. Shad is trying to undermine my dignity and grace. However, since people are so insistent upon seeing pictures of baby gorillas, I have decided to create a photo poster of my nieces and nephews. As you can see, they're a wily bunch. They always want me to send them presents. I have no idea from where they get such preposterous notions that their Uncle Brad is a prolific gift-giver. Harumph.

Brad Tag

Little Box tagged me. I've never been tagged. I suppose I should be a good sport and answer the questions, even though I've never been cooperative about anything.

Ten years ago: I finally graduated from cooking school after having been put on academic probation twice.

Five years ago: I was a fry-chef at a tavern in a raucous college town in Maryland. When I wasn't working as a chef, I was playing guitar in a local band called Muckraker Bob. We had an indie-hit on the college radio station. Do you remember, "Rock/Paper/Scissors/Dirty-Sock?" That was our song.

One year ago: I took a road-trip across the United States. For some reason, I wasn’t allowed to drive. Nonetheless, I took over the wheel in New Mexico. There were a few mishaps here and there, and the car ended up dying on the on-ramp in Medford, Oregon.

Yesterday: I invented a soufflé that turns itself inside out when you hold a flame over it. Unfortunately, Brutus ate it before I could take a picture.

Five snacks: cheddar bunnies, butternut squash, chocolate milkshakes, guacamole, fried green tomatoes.

Five things I would do with a million dollars: Buy five really big turnips and sell them at a profit.

Five places to which I would run away: under the couch, behind the curtains, inside the hanging fruit basket, on top of the pantry, beside the vaccuum cleaner.

Five things I would never wear: a sensible hat, a sensible scarf, a sensible coat, warm mittens knitted by my landlady, scratchy woolen underwear

Five favorite tv shows: I’ve not watched television since I threw the box out the window years ago. I used to be a fan of The Dukes of Hazard, Wonder Woman (especially the show highlighting my guest appearance as Gorilla Grodd), Battlestar Galactica, Knight Rider, and V. What's good these days?

Five greatest joys: smoking Havana banana cigars, sleeping under shady trees, cooking, terrorizing the cats, grooming

Five favorite toys: I’m too old and mature to play with toys. Any rumors to the contrary involving my landlord’s daughter’s stacking blocks, dollhouse, Fisher Price record player, tricycle, or musical rocking chair is a conspiracy to undermine my dignity.

Five people I’m tagging: Why limit it to five? I’m tagging the whole world! Ergo, if you read this, consider yourself tagged.

Humiliating Baby Photos

This is the most humiliating day of my life. My landlady found some of the photos taken of me when I was a baby gorilla and sent them to all of her friends! I threw a colossal fit. My landlady said, "Whoa, Brad, you said it was totally fine to share the photos." Hah! Maybe she was talking to my older brother Shad,* because she said nothing of the sort to me.

I suspect filial treachery.



*Yes, I have an older brother. His name is Shadrach. He is such a smarty-pants. He's a research scientist at McMurdo Station. My parents are SO proud of him. I don't want to talk about Shad anymore, so I won't.

Games gorillas play

Left: Koko with kitten

Right: Brad with kitten

Koko the Gorilla gets all the press. For the most part, I don’t mind. She’s a hard-working gorilla and she deserves whatever accolades come her way. However, I cannot help but be outraged by how often human beings misinterpret her words. She speaks in American Sign Language (for the record, ASL was the one language class in college I flunked. It brought my G.P.A. down considerably. I’m still bitter. ) The thing is, Koko can manage a keyboard quite well. When the so-called First Interspecies Web Chat took place on April 28, 1998, what transpired was nothing less than a travesty. Koko had to go through Dr. Penny who then had to go through the AOL chat facilitator. Have any of you ever played the game "Telephone?" If you have, you know exactly where I'm going with this.

To wit, here's a portion of the transcript:

PENNY: OK. Your birthday is coming up, Koko. What do you want for your birthday?
KOKO: Birthday... Food smokes.
AOL: SMOKES?
PENNY: Well, she sort of signed 'food' and 'smokes.' You have to understand...Smoke is also the sign for her kitten. Her kitty's name is Smoky. So that one could have a double meaning.


Translation: Koko wants cigars! The interpretation of “smokes” referring to her cat “Smoky” is a bit of a stretch. I suppose they don’t want children to get the idea that smoking is good (my landlord’s father died of lung cancer, by the way), but everyone assumes the cigars gorillas smoke are the same kinds as humans smoke. What rubbish. A gorilla’s favorite cigar is comprised of rolled up leaves, stems, and roots. On occasion, we love to smoke the hard-to-get “Havana Banana” cigar, which is in essence, rolled up leaves, stems, roots and banana peels.

Another part of the transcript:

AOL: What do you like to do best, for fun, asks TrukkasW?
PENNY: 'Lips' is 'woman,' right. She's got an alligator. Oh no! What's that alligator going to do? She's got the alligator biting her finger. She's playing with her alligator and her lady doll.
KOKO: Kiss.* (Koko kisses the lady doll.)
PENNY: (Laughing.) She's got the alligator biting the lady doll.
KOKO: Tell-you-hurry. (Koko takes Penny's hand.) Hurry.
PENNY: Oh, my! Is this a little acting out aggression here? There is a little acting out going on. (Laughing.) That lady doll could be me.

Translation: Of course it’s you, Dr. Penny. Koko doesn’t like it when you put words in her mouth. What Koko actually likes to do best is put on puppet-shows. Many gorillas like to play the battle of King Kong vs. Godzilla. Whenever gorillas play, King Kong always wins. Whenever radioactive dinosaurs play, Godzilla always wins. Some of my cousins say that it’s not a politically-correct game, as they think it’s a battle between the United States and Japan. Hogwash! In reality, gorillas and radioactive dinosaurs get along quite well. We just like to mix it up a bit.

The final gaffe:

AOL: ReBeL1999 asks, do you dream at night? Wouldn't it be amazing to know what a gorilla dreams!
PENNY: I think I may have asked her his once. Do you dream at night when you sleep? Do you dream? I asked her this once and I had to explain it . I asked her if she - what senses that might be used - did she hear things smell things, see things. So I needed to explain what a dream was and I don't remember. I could ask her again. Koko, when you dream, do you hear things, smell things, see things? Do you dream?
KOKO: (No response.)

Translation: I’ll bet you’d like to know what a gorilla dreams. Koko once wrote to me that she didn’t mind talking about her cats and food preferences, but when humans started getting personal about her dreams and what-not, she would just pretend she didn’t understand. As a world-famous celebrity, Koko gets so little privacy. I can relate.

"King Kong vs. Godzilla" puppet show

P.S. This website now has a FAQ!

Brad's Hot Fudge Sundae

When people find out that I'm a chef, they inevitably ask, "Do you know how to make a banana split?" You might as well ask my landlady, who happens to be a children's librarian, if she's at all familiar with the works of Dr. Seuss. My landlady says that it's best to behave as if there's no such thing as a stupid question. Hah! I have no patience for such trivial matters as stupid questions.

Now, if you were to ask me if I know how to make a hot-fudge sundae, that would be a different story. I have a patent on a wondrous creation called

Brad's Hot Fudge Sundae

While the exact ingredients are secret, the basic premise is this: if you order a hot-fudge sundae, the fudge should be hot. Yet, why do so many hot-fudge sundaes end up cold? The ice-cream, of course. My hot-fudge sundae differs in that something as inconsequential as the freezing point of ice-cream should not interfere with your hot-fudge experience. Ergo, I always serve my sundaes with pitchers of hot-fudge (top secret recipe) sitting on top of candle-powered ceramic warmers. You will find that as you pour in layers the hot-fudge sauce onto the vanilla* ice-cream (top secret recipe), you miss neither the whipped-cream (superfluous!) nor the maraschino cherry (potentially cancerous!)

Bon appetit, homo sapiens.


*If you want a different ice-cream flavor, find a different chef.

Bath, interrupted (and other photos)

Bath, Interrupted
I snapped this photo when I was attempting to use the upstairs toilet. I had no idea that the bathroom was occupied. Honest. Still, the cat was not amused.

The Landlord's Daughter
Although I am not usually impressed with human beings as photographic subject matter, I am often overcome by the urge to take lots and lots of photos of my landlord's daughter. If I absolutely had to choose "most beautiful human being in existence," my landlord's daughter would be right up there.

Alki Beach
This photo is my artistic vision of the twigs you might find in the sand. It does not represent the anguish of my soul. It represents the anguish of your soul. Then again, I was a bit put out when my landlady refused to lend me money to purchase a chocolate-banana flan at the Alki Bakery. I could just weep when I think of the missed opportunity.

All pictures copyrighted by Brad the Gorilla. Give credit where credit is due, or I'll throw a fit!

House and Castle

Good news, everyone. Yesterday I received a letter of acceptance from the Cornish Arts School. My portfolio largely consisted of my magnetic drawings, but I am also going to explore the genre of photography. Here is the self-portrait that convinced the school to accept me as a student and ignore my disciplinary files:



My diptych "A Gorilla's House is his Castle" was also well-received.

House:


Castle:


And now, I'm off to the beach to photograph tidepools. Ulric is worried I'll get sand in my fur, but no fears there, as I will be wearing my raincoat.