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Here are some pictures I have taken.


This is me, Yenamaboya, as of early Carnauba [July to humans].


This guy is a bully, man. He tried to take my lunch money the other day. Luckily, I had a spare iron rose, and he backed off.


Here is a picture of my sweet lover, Yenapahikizaoya, at the beach picking flowers.

Dr. Mushroom Remastered
Jama-Iki
For ages, the story of Dr. Mushroom, the very first baboon with a PhD, has been kept clandestine on the island of Ishbu in fear that the morals hidden within would spark a revolt of the emu population around Yousafi Village. Many false versions of the Dr. Mushroom incident have been created over the years, but few mammal-like creatures know of the true, original story. Finally, after over a century of arduous research, the story may once again be told in a circumspect manner.

Dr. Mushroom was once hunting in the wilderness for wild tigers, when suddenly he tripped over a goose and lost his only shoe to the fowl bird. The goose, named Dove, told Dr. Mushroom that there was only one way to recover his shoe. Dr. Mushroom was presented with an intricate and seemingly impossible riddle. “Oh no, my friend,” spoke Dr. Mushroom, “there is indeed another way to circumvent my problem.” With that, Dr. Mushroom slowly raised his rifle.

“Please don’t shoot me!” pleaded Dove. “I promise to give you nearly thirty lemons, a magical chain made of amoeba colonies, and a toenail rejuvenator!”

“No deal!” shouted Dr. Mushroom. “That is, of course, you throw in a free scuba diving lesson, a pearl-lined emu leg, and a juicy cactus steak.”

“Okay, I’ll throw in the scuba diving lesson and the juicy cactus steak, but I’ll only give the pearl-lined emu leg if you give me your binoculars made of fajitas.”

The haggling continued on for at least and hour and a half, until the two finally concurred. Dr. Mushroom, now shoeless, continued on his search for wild tigers. Suddenly, like a scene out of the movie Peanut Brittle, a comely gorilla named Bear parachuted from an obscure location above the jungle, and landed right on top of a finely crafted Portuguese coffee table. Seemingly complacent with his mischievous deed, the Bear strutted over to Dr. Mushroom and asked if he knew where his friend Abu was. He responded with the then cliché phrase, “Maybe he ate a plastic orange!” Displeased with Dr. Mushroom’s obvious lack of respect, Bear bestowed upon the great doctor cursed giraffe ear. “Sorry, I’ve already got a cursed giraffe ear,” Dr. Mushroom informed the silly gorilla. Bear instead gave him a cursed protista ear. Then it happened.

The giraffe ear and the protista ear collaborated and constructed a giant curse that would not only rid Dr. Mushroom of any lice infestation that threatened his shiny coat, but would create a massive, ultraviolet storm above his head for three days and nights. As the clement weather was quickly replaced with a howling storm, Dr. Mushroom frantically searched for shelter from the radioactive drops of rain. As he stumbled down a path laced with shredded Monterey Jack cheese, he was reluctantly coerced under a giant tarantula by an old lady. Who was this lady? Where was she from? How many eastern empires prohibited her entrance? The history of the old lady, which was shrouded in mystery, may very well be revealed in the next installment of Dr. Mushroom’s picayune adventure.

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Down in the Bayou
Jama-Iki
[Disclaimer: The Dave in this story is no way connected to the myriad of Daves on NuTang.com, beside the fact that they all have the same name]

A long time ago, in the Deep South of America, lived a man named Dave. He lived in a small hut on a bayou of Louisiana. Dave felt unhappy with his life, as he did not fit in. He was not a redneck, a bigot, or a Cajun. Instead, he was a Guatemalan sumo wrestler. On the weekends, he volunteered for the local community Citizens Observer Patrol program. Although his fellow volunteers cajoled him with false promises that the work would give him a paycheck, Dave continued volunteering for his loving community.

One night, while learning to play a banjo on the front stoop of his hut, he was approached by a shady character. Cloaked in the shadows of night, the person gave a candid speech about trying to live life in the bayou. “Even if you try to live like a normal primate, the alligators and mosquitos still treat you like a canine.” Amazed by the obvious sense of wisdom inherent in the man’s words, Dave asked who the mysterious character was. Papagoya stepped forth into the light. Being an idol of Dave’s, the presence of the famous and celebrated folk hero Papagoya threw Dave into a seizure. Papagoya used one of his ancient baboon medical techniques and cured Dave with no problem. “Forget not the story of Dr. Mushroom!” shouted Papagoya, as he leapt away quickly.

Dave, however, was still having the seizure, and thought to himself that Papagoya was obviously a charlatan. After his astonishing recovery, Dave decided to take a capricious turn with his life. Dave lost 600 pounds, and threw in the towel and his sumo thong. Dave knew that if he was going to get anywhere in his life, he’d have to become a freelance rice patty worker. He knew just where to go.

When Dave was on the train to South Carolina, his immense hunger got he best of him. He devoured a baby hairy protista, which everyone knows is a bad idea. The hairy protistas not only give you indigestion, but they secrete a poisonous, gelatinous, flammable chemical which is only known to scientists as custard pie. The train was immediately evacuated. People were jumping from car to car, running on the roof, and somersaulting down the aisles while Dave sat silently and observed the chaos. “Hey now! Simmer down now!” Dave castigated. “You need not fear; The Great Papagoya has endowed me with immortality with the touch of his hand.” With that, Dave passed out and never awoke.

“Now what is the moral of this story?” Papagoya asked his apostles.

“Never touch Papagoya or you die!” said Tapahikizaoya in an overly caustic voice. Papagoya then burned the insignia of the Spider Clan into Tapahikizaoya’s clavicle using his laser eyes, chastising the weakened baboon.

“Does anyone else want to venture a guess at the moral of the story?” asked Papagoya in an intimidating voice. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, a meteorite made of fried cottage cheese careened off of a nearby water-buffalo tribute statue and exploded near Yousafi Village located on the Island of Ishbu, where Papagoya often relates his philosophical views to young, aspiring baboons. Never again was there a shortage of fried cottage cheese in Yousafi Village, and never again could the horrible smell be removed from the water-buffalo tribute statue.

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Papagoya Story: Retold
Mala-Iki
On a small, desolate jungle island named Picalladin, there exists a factory run solely by baboons. You may be wondering, “Who is in charge of this island?” or “What kind of healthcare benefits do I receive after working for ten years there?” The answers to these questions, however, were once buried deep within the inner mantle of the Earth, where no man has ever ventured. Instead, small, furry island inhabitants, known as Protistas, dug their way to the mantle and stashed away the secret information. No baboon has ever ventured beneath the crust of the Earth, as digging for a baboon is a very arduous task. Therefore, no baboon has ever received healthcare benefits on the island of Picalladin.

The story of Picalladin and the research facilities there is shrouded in mystery. Many altercations have arisen over the years in pursuit of the truth, but because the story is regarded with such apathy, the disputes were often settled not long after their onset. The most popular story concerning the baboon employment on Picalladin involves a mystic baboon sage known only as Papagoya. When Papagoya was still a young baboon, he enjoyed running through the fields of agave-nectar-wheat near Easter Island on Wednesday afternoons. One fateful Wednesday, however, Papagoya tripped over a tortoise named Earl. Papagoya went crazy. Earl, in order to appease Papagoya, apologized and suggested that Papagoya sit and rest under a nearby lemon tree. Papagoya was skeptical at first, but soon discovered and enjoyed the many benefits of lemon trees and their pleasing protection from the luminous sun. Then it happened.

Earl was heard snickering a Canadian football field’s length away, as he flipped the “Do Not Flip This Switch” switch. Suddenly, the tree that Papagoya was resting under began to shake violently, and nearly thirty lemons fell upon his fragile body. The nearby baboons, amazed by Earl’s audacity, quickly dispersed. One group went and beat up the anathema that Earl the tortoise had become, while the other group quickly dug their fellow baboon Papagoya out of the citrus debacle. As Papagoya was still partially trapped under the heap, he observed the extreme velocity that the baboons were removing the lemons. Papagoya then uttered his most famous quote: “Wow, what if these lemons were instead of packets of information?!”

After many years of hard work and determination, Papagoya, was at the top of the game. He revolutionized the way that information was sent and received over the internet. He single-handedly augmented the development of the world-wide web, and has won many awards, including the Nobel Prize for Technological Development, the 1998 Baboon Achievement Award, and an Emmy Award for Daytime Television for his role as Baboon #2 on General Hospital. Where is Papagoya now? Papagoya now resides on the island of Picalladin, where he and his research team of nearly sixty baboons conduct experiments in deep underground lairs. “Sure, the underground factory is sort of austere, but the jubilant work atmosphere created by the young, aspiring baboons really livens the place up!” Papagoya stated in a recent interview. “Papagoya is a very amicable baboon,” said the team leader, Yenahikizaoya, “the kind of baboon that anyone can get along with.” Although the general population considers Papagoya as a trusty role-model, there are still some ambivalent baboons that don’t understand him. “He’s just a weirdo,” said Haeerhahikizaoya about the icon Papagoya. Whether Papagoya is a true genius, or just some strange, random baboon aching for some popularity may never be known. What is known, however, is that agave-nectar-wheat and lemon sandwiches are the hottest thing to hit the shores of Easter Island since the Moai statues.

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As the famous saying goes..
Mala-Iki
"If you are flying in the sky with the usage of the wind, and then you nose-dive into a gelatinous pool of south-eastern koala feces, either way you look at it, you stink like south-eastern koala feces."

Now, you may be thinking, "Wow, this baboon is cultured!" But please, I do not want your praise or your lemon-scented thumbtacks, I'm just here for your fish spices. What ever happened to fish and shrimp flavoured ramen noodles?

Now, I will elaborate on this condunrum. In my hut, I was taking it easy, sipping on an RC Cola studying Fibonacci's Golden String, when it happened. A ravenous protista hurled his heavy lourde of snow powder through the hole in my hut [which was viciously cut out by the doorsmith] and erected a tribute to Frosty the Snowman on the coffee table in my den. Of all the sadistic occurences!

That is not the main point of the story! For allowing me to deviate, I will repossess the 56 Italian juggling bowling pins bestowed upon you from ages past.

The Mala-Iki from the last journal entry and the Mala-Iki from this journal entry are by far two different satellites, if you know what I mean. The story of my disappearance can be summed up into 4 words:

I DON'T WANT ANY!

T'was a beautiful evening myre, oh boy. With the tree and the snake and the river and the grasses, shrubbery, and peat! Then I noticed this fungi growth behind my ear. I'll tell ya, it was growing like a German Bronfendebeunker in the sleek alley of a South-American condo. The candles burned as if the air was alive with madness, and the wicks were pretty mad themselves, screaming out histerical raves and chanting about the sway of Hippolito's spitting clownfish [which is now in my possession in the Tank of Infinite Plastic].

So, that is my latest adventure. Be sure to check back, I may be giving out loads of free fungus! Hey I'll even throw in a singing sea-urchin!

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Busy Morning So Far!
Mala-Iki
Well, as usual, I woke up and did my morning shift at the server base. Nothing too interesting happened, except the silly water buffalo races! Haha! We all bet on who would win the races. The jocks are usually Pipo birds, scanning the ground for picadillies. Ol' Betsy, the kleptomaniac water buffalo, fell over on her side and let out a "Howdy-Do!" before she slept into the eternal lifestream of the island. Sometimes I take a dip into the stream, you know.. just to bathe.

As you may see from my reading room, I added two things so far today: The story of the Forgotten Baboons, and a list of translations, which will be continuously growing like the rapid hedgehog who lives between my toes on any given Iki-Iki.

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Bababababoon!
Iki-Iki
Today was such an eventful day for me! First off, as soon as I arose, there was a friendly protista asking for some off my buttermilk! Go figure. I refused him, and he seemed pretty sad, so I gave him my whole sack of milk. Poor little guy, I thought. Suddenly, seeing I had a lot of food, he knocked me over and stole a bunch of it, then scurried off. Some protistas just can't be trusted. Then, my shift as a team leader was coming up, so I figured to head in early. Boy, was that a smart move! There was so much traffic, it seemed like gridlock every few meters! All of the baboons were jammed up, ass to ass. Luckily, I made it into the office on time. Getting back to work was nice; I work with many interesting baboons, and we overcome many problems in such a short period of time! I love my job. What are some of your jobs?

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