Gorillas in the fog

I’m getting emails from people asking me if I know Angelique Todd, the English girl who’s hanging out with a tribe of gorillas in the Central African Republic. Obviously not. Her base camp is 300 miles away, and I’m not going to travel all that distance to say hello to a woman with a face like Squirrel Nutkin. She'd be most welcome to visit us, of course, and we'd extend her every courtesy short of milking the suckling hippo. English women may love their dairy products, but we gorillas don’t grope animals that outweigh us by half a ton. 

Ms Todd has been getting a very good press for learning to speak the gorilla tongue and befriending Makumba, the resident silverback. It seems that his mean and moody mannerisms have made a profound impression on her: 

“Hearing Makumba’s grunt of hello in the mornings makes every sacrifice worthwhile,” she chirped. 

That’s what I call a low-maintenance female! I have to be honest here and admit that I’ve never induced a state of euphoria in a woman merely by grunting. I usually have to swing them by their ankles in a circular motion until they get dizzy, which is much harder work. 

One thing I’m glad about is that Angelique has got hitched to a local fellow and borne him a daughter. This should discourage the gossip that bedevilled poor Dian Fossey regarding her intimate friendship with her favourite silverback. In truth, no male gorilla could safely mate with a woman. He’d first have to undergo the pussification procedure that Superman subjected himself to before he could pork Lois Lane (see Superman II). Any gorilla that much in love with a woman would deserve to have a coconut dropped on his head from a great height. 

Anyway, I’m sure Angelique will have nothing to fear from Makumbo as long as she shaves her legs and doesn’t wiggle her bottom at him. He already owes her a debt of gratitude for all the favourable publicity. The gorilla nation (by which I mean me) thanks Ms Todd for her good PR work on our behalf, and looks forward to reading her jungle memoirs. When she does put pen to paper, I hope she writes in a measured factual way rather than telling the world what magnificent sexy beasts we are. Nobody likes an arse-licker and praise is rarely taken seriously when it’s over-the-top. 

Another species currently getting a lot of attention from humans are dolphins. An international panel of scientists has announced that these slippery sea-mammals should be classified as non-human persons. While I’m all in favour of giving them greater legal protection, I worry that uplifting their status might give them ideas. Dolphins are insatiable sex maniacs, and no tourist beach would be safe if they acquired a taste for human tail. 

Maybe someone should carry out background checks on these scientists to make sure they don’t have ulterior motives. I’ve heard stories of marine biologists gate-crashing dolphin orgies and rimming blowholes in their free time. Spending half your life in the ocean can do funny things to you.

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