Monkey’s Cat’s Log, 11th June 2014
Promises were made. Promises I expect to be honored. I heard much talk of all the fresh fish I can eat, new smells and new places to explore.
Instead what do I get??? The same dry tasteless rations as always and rocking on a chair word monkey calls an ‘Oceanic Simulation Device’.
I called it my damn napping spot until everything went all planet of the apes in here.
If I don’t see some fish soon, blood will be split.
The fresh stuff mind you, none of that canned shenanigans they tried to pull last week…or their ankles get a visit from Hector and Spector, my right and left claws respectively.