Saturday, December 26, 2009


Of the many losses suffered in 2009, Twerking is most captivated by that of Travis the Chimp, eulogized in the New York Times' Sunday Magazine this week. R.I.P. Travis. An except:

By all accounts, the perpetrator lived in louche splendor: filet mignon, lobster tails, Lindt chocolate, ice cream, a glass of wine in the evening. He was bathed by hand in the tub. He did as he pleased. Without a license, he drove the Corvette down the long driveway, out over nearby roads and back. He drew pictures: abstract, colorful scribblings that hung on the refrigerator and seemed to mean something to him when, in the vein of a tortured artist, he took them down for re-examination. When not drawing or playing with his stuffed animals and trapeze bar, he might surf the Web or grab the remote, sink into the couch and flip channels until finding a baseball game. (His team: whoever was on.) He enjoyed cleaning his teeth with a Waterpik.

For the full article, click HERE.

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