Today’s YouTube Glitch Laugh


 

 

Monkeyshines of the 500 

 

https://photos.app.goo.gl/BxNi4HXy89GkXV8Z7

 

Yes. This Error Message from YouTube actually appeared on my computer screen.  Maybe YouTube should get some Simian help from the Bronx Zoo or go visit Planet of the Apes!

 

 

500 Internal Server Error

Sorry, something went wrong.

A team of highly trained monkeys has been dispatched to deal with this situation.

If you see them, send them this information as text (screenshots frighten them):

    APkpgMWQbhiIov86CVJBL7E27MAR6DIy_xLlDElAet1aBk0rZL_Gwghl
    AOilqdhH26U2O5-NX5tQrtLaaAdIIr5YdlJaR5u-ZgSCs2kORRJSV-pj
    kQ90N3verw3qtzZqk2aDZugb8WgF5dGukhuEzlBI9YGKDBRQbzLx3H1c
    gsuqo0DgRgl8eRbNJnPaPlPmYGzsRWKDsJ67I3lyOe91UyLB_gXy11RK
    feDqNwSU5pE5QlHR6wQQ8PEMuSqn7_WbrClOMZZjIK8jl9v8AUiphrxZ
    PLlv_hzjFD7Kn0PVDjzJ-XAirZVX_9z1dH1YYcoJfq7rMfPGHoEjJ-9N
    EnnC6DnBj63CvEdcwM7AvnBJL6dk19q1Xi2bIMYKn2wcpzwuR5-d0PoX
    fGGU2d5fW09ClMLrr2noiisBCk_YOcFXrkwJPWODWiSJhzV17M1z0dWf
    uc017Nd2bNyF8nYobhFSUuJG0o5OxaxfHPHh_4X9V0dx9ZgU6YB5O0Fn
    RsvXc9tE1IYwRLPFSREOcWB8qvV-IMiUlDxtQ2LSZs3QUQ6w7f7LI84h
    Qe8A6IfxObjs3j2V8_RfzW9boTlLG9t2o9uOcbTlTJaXA0l_hEnV25dZ
    2GuM5RjtvpfMkApFLPEThGdYjgu_o6YadP-Pg-1Ye_qQFcaY1FC_5INo
    0LRJGM7KXcZz8q1SpKMl9RIxNNgBLY9bY15o4D-8C_vlX7zlfsmmWPcx
    eIuOvqy5qeeRPBZGXrLZUnt9AGpzUchvuQ2mDi2Cjidda8K1UFTeLEgU
    Uw3PIr87bstw5pmTOh0Ovq2uJFhUQkVayll6hUM9dHp4Li55qWRPBamq
    QrbBS_G-NwOlf0C0pN_cLXZwA-zgWq2pYNLzCqr9Smp7R0ALkcIcd4O5
    QyguDU1IV1nSTt7_dbzTkZu6DUPki-XYFju7oht-djJYzSgqvsuufA7Q
    A4se_Qts1mdXMKaHa_GbmMI5lnXuaWy2VyiMA0rTU46QF0GL2O6uccrU
    yfHEsSRqKulpLcBFjHmboVTsOBaIgy7_S0J-W1BXxc6p7QaCD6cEEbyu
    xL2POotYo0QwRDD4C4FvmdWdqQ5GFyP8qU-rhzQIzdfnhL9BLsDKE_dd
    wrEP3GDEjAqIFQBDHXr2xO9whSAjwb1QuiwaUPhfSAAE7pCr_eIrMOyi
    oLg89o-qZasz5PNna8nInaGbIV2w6_QDl1_ypcm0NmXvUWSQvylo4jtY
    gRP9zQRQiRfVbBFrQLF3ww1h0CmgREp3rvQ0Ph-LLCvMpEFubGMEJbcW
    StLMGAX1wU42YnCU0Bk6cJtoQ28l56Lm1QsLguUDeiFGeg8aIFLY_RFk
    vZ-n07QXcyzdb567JF6qcubAuT9yOX_jk3O8Cj9B8c9qUjBIWvs_qkge
    jhvrrJ_b18qy9-9waaswzUL59HgJUn24CsQwVeXEU-AXCDZpolKxFJ2t
    NEd2oLtim0CR-OMOJxmXt8KXhbOyyLJs-xB0lvPY39yx3XfdUy7GJgNI
    552l_BZ5xak9UNSFHXiHcBlnn8-VA3AlEP9Q7r8U83liM0aakjIKwJzt
    WkkL32VlBCdyeuCkxd_avAA6x-fOJmvrOHkqlLTQl5mDi0BL3c70vbAw
    NoDvous0Cn1_G_zPuX4Fjdn7UMyh_zyyN1sr5Hmj6LRZXK3SEwAQ4HE8
    AURqK0YAUf_b621eFzmisat1SkQM-evy55hS0sF6rL1g3ClGHGMc736Z
    omu9Oe_6dKjshm69tVUF1CIVLzGGtF5cuyplLckHjUzAywmGOMl0Dy6r
    jmVJMd-MVFng8bG3a1z9f9Q3S4-IgawSUZDPsUgIXRBD1mxi5Wo3RQTw
    w6ZW13zpy10pPv191dFlaMm4JWQYVZMlHNQksiaUaUB9iD60syJbkER-
    QF0UrwIcPKEnnel_WsNXqQW3qcaxXw_kwP6U-18V0KoFudQCUn4BvfwA
    ywC7Mhf0Az42SOmdXsoyd3hcRCYryyWlUl6jAHhUfzNGKUZurdlUfGsC
    IZiuPZI49iGPrDQEJrNfK23x59VMOwMlJavOroLvgdKBIq2rC4ncNrT2
    6FU6CK9WCWrbPfK3ZAnXvgA2HXgr8VggVzdE-arHHxIOz9GYFzaV2yOD
    ltlkFE3mQQng6OP79aIDQDrU4Rp2-iikR-PU9lEJHogv5Cv7tfOTe_qU
    VuMRt-fcXeKDdPy4UrDcPYiwjgoQ3jaW

 

 

 

 

The Rising Sun

The Chalet


Adagio

The Rising Sun
Psycho Barn House

 

The Chalet

 

I was walking along the pathway that led away from the Chalet passing through pleasant fields of heather  greenery and beautiful flowers when I came to the old stone bridge overlooking a meandering lake river. This bridge was built as a pedestrian walkway leading to and from the town.

A quaint little picture perfect postcard town.

A quaint lilliputian village filled with nodding heads and knowing smiles.

Wanting to really take in that moment in time I stopped halfway across to breathe in my lovely surroundings.

Then I looked down. Catching sight of what appeared to be a package caught up in the foliage and rocks. My heart jumped whilst I took hold of my small compact spyglass that I carried with me during my walks. A voice told me not to look, to keep walking but the stronger deep shadow voice compelled me to put the spyglass to my eyes and look down.

My gaze was immediately drawn to the pink sleeved arm protruding from the package. Then miraculously more limb strewn packages appeared and as they piled up against the shore pieces of me disappeared, falling into the swift running river.

Then parts of me began to fall away. First my left arm. Then my right arm. Causing my spectacle spyglass to drop in the lane. Then both my legs disconnected from my body. Finally only my torso remained which rolled up and off the bridge down into the fast flowing water.

Many dance with the bridge. A few survive. Others Thrive.

Later that evening my host and hostess began to search for me when I didn’t return for the evening meal at dusk. As they started to cross the quaint stone bridge they shown their flashlights dispersing the dark to reveal a pair of spyglass spectacles midway between to and fro.

Rhyss

 

That boy. Really a young man of 22 but a boy to me since I had him by more than a decade….

That man boy with the shock of dark wavy curly hair, burnished skin with musculature that threatened to burst through his sartorial splendor. When nude his body was like well corded stacks of bronze wood. A living performance of immersive theater.

Spying on him through a peephole in the Male gymnastics he would oil his bronze skin until his flesh glowed with a high sheen. Such a sheen that cracks of sunlight that made it through dirty broken windows reflected glints of green gold off his body and back to the sun.

Kenda the Shipwreck

 

Kenda. Kenda short for Kendall.

 

That girl. That jealous girl or as she imagined herself his girlfriend. Every time she saw him she worried her lips and teeth with various numerous ill advised seductions which tended towards cracking her jaws with unfulfilled desires.

She trembled so much that the ground beneath her was tempted to open up and swallow her in order to stop her True Romance vibrations.

Emu-Jean

 

ImoJean or Emu-Gene as we called her. She greatly resembled a large flightless bird with a small head framed by hair that appeared to be styled by sticking her fingers in an electric socket.

Emu-Jean would ask questions of Mr. Muscles and he would give short disinterested answers.

In her swept away mindset she made paragraphs from his brief responses.

Both Emu-Jean and the Kenda the Shipwreck imagined themselves performing Red Sand Arabesques along a coral vermilion beach with Mr. Universe.

 

Despite her avian appearance Emu-Jean had one saving grace.  Her voice. Regularly pickled on the streets, beset by mob bafflegab and at times prone to threatening bafflegrab;

Her ethereal voluminous voice elicited the aid of Angels. She needed every assistance available as her protuberant eyes and tiny venomous teeth put people in the mind of imminent attack until regaled by her melodious tunes.

 

Rhyss

 

But he Mr. Body Beautiful neither shook nor shimmied. Totally ignorant of the volcanic eruptions going on around him. Truth be told he was indifferent to most female attention being in love with himself and his appearance.

One of them did it. But even now in the afterlife I still can’t remember which one?

Torso skin bubbled up bursting onto rocky pebble strewn shores as though seeking sunlight for divination or a more expansive tan on already sepia toned flesh.  Damaged dermis. Damaged dermis laid out like a carpet awaiting eager picnickers.

 

The creek was slimy with adipose tissue for a long while.

Yet my magenta cloche hat still fit prettily upon my severed head.

Watertight you might say.

We got outside passes for good behavior so I don’t understand envy or jealousy?

 

Then again maybe envy and jealousy are just the tip of the iceberg.  The Chalet took relative strangers forcing them to become family if not friends.

Puzzlement?

But there were hierarchies within the colonies. A Caste system of drones, worker bees, Queens, Kings and their lackeys.

 

Lord Dustbin. Dancing with Dunces.

 

TO BE CONTINUED