On occasion, stuff happens in a way that it seems like it’s happening just for me. Case in point is this story about a toilet-cleaning monkey. Man, I want one of those. Like, more than anything. Could you even imagine? A little monkey to scrub porcelain for you? I’d also like a refrigerator-scouring gerbil, a “mop iguana,” and a dish-washing slug. Or maybe just a dish-washing monkey. If there’s any chore worse than washing dishes, I don’t want to know about it.

WHY I’M ANGRY TODAY
I don’t own a bathroom monkey.