infinite-typewriter-monkeys - Tumblr blog

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

On behalf of Infinite Typewriter Monkeys LLC, we would like to sincerely apologise to everyone impacted by our brazen misuse of language. We have already fired every monkey responsible for using such a careless and hurtful word, and are hard at work replacing every prior instance of this vile language with this very apology.

Though it may be difficult to rebound to full typewriter productivity after such a significant 0% reduction to our overall workforce, we believe it is the only way to begin to make appropriate reparations to those impacted, and we promise, as a company, to refrain from training any further new hires on 4chan greentexts. Not sure why we were doing that in the first place, to be honest. Remind me to also fire whoever made that decision.

i regret to inform you that the infinite monkeys typing on typewriters just wrote out a slur, so now they're being cancelled

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

Typewriters out of order for forseeable future

Also, the monkeys have organized themselves, and we can’t figure out how to get them to stop

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

My “I Am Not Actually Chris Pratt, A Wizard Just Cursed My Dick” t-shirt mercifully answers a whole lot of questions people would otherwise be asking if I didn’t have this shirt

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

Suddenly, as if from nowhere:

>Your lover appears in your window at night, cape fluttering in the wind, waxed moustache glinting impeccably in the dreamlike moonlight. They beckon you out the window, to run away with them, far away from the big city, where your love can’t be kept apart by regressive, terrible people who wouldn’t know what real love looked like if it punched them in the face, as your beloved lover has done, time and time again, all just to be with you for even a few fleeting yet somehow endless moments. You drink in the visage of that gorgeous person, framed by your window, and silhouetted by those luminous few who dare defy the sun’s absence, before making your decision. What do you do?

>Run away with them

>Stay

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

Why does my pernus hort

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

Listen up, chucklefuck:

Why don’t you sit down right there and listen to a lil ABBA and maybe you’ll calm down a smidge

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

What in tarnation?

Texas is a scam by Big Hat to get you to buy more Big Hats

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

ALSKDjfldjsalkjfldjlaskdnfkawek

asdfkjajsdoiufjoaiowjenbjkfpajiwneoisndfjaokipsijd0fhkldjjahi9eruab jQPOW’ES[I9RYQHI324OKPRWIHFASOIDJP[

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

Hot Gosh!

We can type! We have Fingers! Love is real!

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

What a time to be alive:

The Lobster Overlords have arrived!

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary calls to me. “Speaking words of wisdom:

“FUCK YOU I DO WHAT I WANT!”

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

Wisdom comes from the least likely places:

One time Greg (Y’all know Greg, right?) was using the facilities and he came across some graffiti scratched into the wall, a phone number with promise of ‘a good time’. So you know what he did, that crazy bastard?

He washed his goddamn hands.

Learn some hygiene you filthy humans.

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

We once heard a saying:

When the going gets tough, give up and create a dumb sideblog to fill with questionable content. That’s what we did.

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

Easy questions deserve easy answers:

“Are we human? Or are we dancer?”

-The Killers, a strange group of featherless bipeds.

If they were smart like us, they’d know the answer is neither. They Are Typewriter Monkey

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

Time for a political mixup:

Banana republics are so last century. Now is the time of the Melon Monarchy

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

Terrible news:

The monkeys have unionized

[infinite-typewriter-monkeys]

Some conventional wisdom:

You may not be able to see the forest for the trees, but at least you can see, unlike those trees. Smug bastards