Beatles Rock Band

I've decided to crash a Beatles Rock Band party tonight. I'm more of an Elvis man myself, but I'm willing to play a music-oriented video-game when there's food involved. However, there are a few complaints about the game that I'd like to air:

1. Too many buttons, not enough strings. I think players should be required to learn their instruments. If you're pressing buttons, you may as well play an autoharp. At least the autoharp has strings.

2. "Twist and Shout" and "Boys" are not Beatles compositions. However, they're on Beatles Rock Band, whereas "Tomorrow Never Knows" and "Revolution No. 9" are not.

3. No Rutles.

Gorilla Grumbles

I keep getting emails in my inbox about the so-called "best" photos of National Geographic. They're not that great. There's not a gorilla in the bunch. It's been a long time since we've gotten a cover like this one.

While I'm grumbling, I should mention that I still can't seem to get a proper endorsement for Seattle mayor. I also can't seem to get proper health insurance, but almost everyone is in the same boat around here. Forget dental insurance. You should see my teeth! On the other hand, you probably shouldn't.

Meet Me On Twitter

Microblogging:

http://twitter.com/Bradthegorilla

By the way, my birthday is August 14. You hadn't forgotten, had you?

I'm still alive

I just don't blog.

I first show up on the scene in 1988...

You can find the documentation of my first appearance here. I showed up in 1988. I don't know about this rubbish regarding "Fred's father." I am nobody's father! Fred the gorilla was my ward until he became of age. I was entrusted with his inheritance. However, I embezzled the funds and lost the whole kit-and-caboodle in one fateful game of Billabong. I tried to win it all back in a game of Guts, but ended up in the pokey for 6 weeks instead.

The Gorilla in the Room

How many times have I written that I'm not blogging anymore? Twice, I'm sure. Maybe three times. The old gang is mostly gone. Bradley Enterprises has lost millions. I think I'm glad that Barack Obama is our new president-elect*, but I don't know what his position is on the whole Save the Gorillas movement. I tried to ask him at a press conference, but despite my exuberant arm-waving and boisterous shouting, he never answered my question. At least someone else noticed. Monte Canfield of Ohio wrote about this particular piece of pathos in his article, The 800 lb Gorilla in the Room that Obama Can't Admit:

I am not faulting Obama for ignoring this gorilla in the room until after the election. In fact, I have no idea whether or not he even sees the gorilla.

Just to clarify a point, I'm only 424 lbs, actually, as I recently lost 10 lbs just from shedding fur. But I take his point. I don't think Obama saw me.

Can you see the gorilla in the room?

In other news, I recently modeled for Anthony Browne's new book, Little Beauty.

*I don't get to vote. This country does not allow gorillas the franchise. That means that I don't pay taxes either. No taxation without representation!

Today is My Birthday

It's true. Don't ask me how old I am. I've lost count of the years.

By the way, I am now on Facebook as "Brad G. Rilla."

Gorillas in the Congo!

Good news in the world of gorillas! My long-lost cousins in the northern part of the Congo have been found, bringing the total world population of gorillas to 125,000. This is double the number of gorillas originally thought to exist. Let's hope that human beings (gorillas' worst predators) can help protect my cousins from bush-meat hunters and poachers. I do not have enough rude words in my vocabulary to express my feelings about bush-meat hunters and poachers. Here's to keeping the ebola virus away from everyone, too.

Facebook Fan Page

I have a Fan-page on Facebook! Check it out: Fans of Brad the Gorilla. The irony is that Facebook has denied me my own account. Note, friends, that this is the correct use of the word "irony" in terms of situational irony, i.e. the disparity of intention and result. However, some might argue that it is completely to be expected that I not be able to obtain a Facebook account, ergo it is not irony but simply a matter of inconvenience for me. However, those critics are philistines. Philistines, I say!

Thanks to Amish Guitar for starting my fan club.

Who actually checks in to see if I'm still posting?

Roll-call in the comments...

Yes, We Have No Bananas?

Upsetting banana news:

Why Bananas are a Parable for Our Times, by Johann Hari

Below the headlines about rocketing food prices and rocking governments, there lays a largely unnoticed fact: Bananas are dying. The foodstuff, more heavily consumed even than rice or potatoes, has its own form of cancer. It is a fungus called Panama Disease, and it turns bananas brick-red and inedible.

There is no cure. They all die as it spreads, and it spreads quickly. Soon -- in five, 10 or 30 years -- the yellow creamy fruit as we know it will not exist. The story of how the banana rose and fell can be seen a strange parable about the corporations that increasingly dominate the world -- and where they are leading us.

Gorilla Foot Spa

My Landlady didn't know what to give Ulric for his birthday tomorrow, so I suggested a gift certificate to my new foot spa:

Brad is... anything but average

The latest edition of the internet game called Brad is:

We all know that Brad is on Larry King Live tonight at 9 pm (EST).
No one told me! I'll have to buy a new suit.

I really don't get where Brad is coming from here.
What's to get?

Brad is right.
This is true.

Brad is awesome!!
Yes.

Brad is on his way to winning a Pulitzer Prize.
It must be for my book on Gorilla Etiquette When Dealing With Stuffy-Headed Schoolteachers.

So Brad is doing God's will, after all.
I shudder to think what that might mean.

How do you know what Brad is thinking?
You don't.

Brad is nothing more than an attention seeking, self indulgent home wrecker.
Who spilled the beans?

Brad is worth every penny.
But not the nickles and dimes. O, you fickle, fickle public.

Brad is anything but average.
I am a superior creature.

This is probably really the last post

Yeah, I've threatened many a time to quit posting. But now I really will. The truth is that my time and energies are focused elsewhere. No, I've not been creating banana shoes or threatening to take over Santa Claus' job, but I'm trying to be the webmaster for my Landlady's storytelling website. She needs all the help she can get. For some reason, she doesn't want me to manage her storytelling business. I don't see why not. Mayor Monkey manages Recess Monkey perfectly well.

Brad Interview

Finally, I've been interviewed!

Here is the interview.

It's about time. Maybe I'll even start blogging again. I need more fans, though. Many, many more fans. I am power, fame and fortune hungry.

Updated Note

For anyone coming over here from my Landlady's interview, looking for fresh new blog posts to read: forget it. I'm busy sulking. Where is my interview she promised me? Read my "Best Bits" over on the sidebar instead.

Humbug!

I'm furious. Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast has asked my Landlady for an interview as part of their blogger interview series and they didn't ask me. What nerve! Never mind that she blogs more than I do. I'm a gorilla. What other gorilla blogs? I'm insulted, flummoxed, and all in a tizzy. I'm going to throw something...


Oh, good. My Landlady told me that she would interview me for her blog. That's much, much better.

Rome, ah, Rome

Baby gorillas and the Wind in the Willows

Lady K has threatened to take my Christmas ornament down if I don't post something. Fine. However, if she does that, I'm taking her Christmas ornament down. Hah! That'll learn her! I know Puddingface is going to take me to task for the grammar. I'll kindly direct him toward The Wind in the Willows:

The Toad, having finished his breakfast, picked up a stout stick and swung it vigorously, belabouring imaginary animals. 'I'll learn ’em to steal my house!' he cried. 'I'll learn ’em, I'll learn ’em!'

'Don't say "learn ’em," Toad,' said the Rat, greatly shocked. 'It's not good English.'

'What are you always nagging at Toad for?' inquired the Badger, rather peevishly. 'What's the matter with his English? It's the same what I use myself, and if it's good enough for me, it ought to be good enough for you!'

'I'm very sorry,' said the Rat humbly. 'Only I think it ought to be "teach ’em," not "learn ’em."'

'But we don't want to teach 'em,' replied the Badger. 'We want to learn ’em--learn ’em, learn ’em! And what's more, we're going to do it, too!'

'Oh, very well, have it your own way,' said the Rat. He was getting rather muddled about it himself, and presently he retired into a corner, where he could be heard muttering, 'Learn ’em, teach ’em, teach ’em, learn ’em!' till the Badger told him rather sharply to leave off.

Yah! That'll learn Mr Pudding, too.

For you, Lady K, here are photos of cute little baby gorillas. I know you like that sort of thing:

Ate Things

My Landlady tagged me for the 8 facts meme, so here goes...

Here are the rules: Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

I: I have taken numerous tests to get my driver's license and have failed all of them. I thought my driving was perfect, but the evaluator thought it was cheating to lift the car into the parallel parking space.

II: My top secret project exploded, and I have had to start from scratch. I am so bitter about this setback that I'm tempted to run off with the grant money.

III: I once met Elvis in Las Vegas, Nevada. He shook my hand and told me that I was his favorite Elvis impersonator after Andy Kaufman.

IV: The above fact is actually fiction. So much for wishful thinking.

V: I have bested Yorkshire Pudding in every thumb-wrestling match, though he refuses to admit it.

VI: When it comes to diagramming sentences, I'm hopeless. This blind-spot was a glitch in my Latin education.

VII: I used to charge money for foot-rubs.

VIII: I'm in love.

I tag Friday, Lady K, Yorkshire Pudding, and anyone else who still reads my blog.