The monkey's heart is racing from that never ending jazz midnight banana tree nightlife. Junior ex pinstripe baboons try to impress the chimpanzees at the water cooler with long discussions about Picasso, and avante garde gorilla theater.

The chimps are in suburbia carrying on hairy hot tub primate parties drinking martinis and listening to Monkey Man.

The lowland gorilla smacks a tennis ball against the dripping spaghetti wall. The baboon keeps score and holds open the door. The gibbon is crawling along the linoleum floor. The orangutan chews walnuts and wants some more.

The monkey looks for jungle rot and jungle pot and jungle dot.coms. Jungling and bungling, and grumbling only leads to a stale banana tree. That's why the monkey is so blue. He's banging on a log that reminds him of you.