Manimals: What is Mother Nature’s Manliest Creature? #4- The Gorilla

These hairy bastards, allegedly, are among man's closest living relatives (they certainly bear an uncanny resemblance to our great aunt Agatha, the one with more facial hair than the studliest of studly dudes could ever accrue. There's also that ring through her foreskin). In matters pertaining to DNA/tedious science, chimpanzees and bonobos are more akin to us, but have they ever succumbed to monsterism and scaled the Empire State Building with a tiny human woman in their wanking hand (more on their onanistic penchant later, we're afraid)? They have not, so they are, as such, a bit shit.

Gorillas stand up to six feet tall, and can weigh in excess of 500 lbs. Their fatass nature proves invaluable when encroaching upon -and biting the ballsacks right off- their prey, which primarily constitutes bamboo, leaves and roots. Still, as anyone that has beheld the horrors of the African Fighting Tree can attest, foliage can be a formidable foe and a massive bitch to hunt (See also: the Whomping Willow, the one that tried to beat ubiquitous magic-prick Harry Potter into a blood-bleeding speck on the ground in whichever movie it was).

Their name derives from Gorillai, 'tribe of hairy women', which falls rather short of encapsulating the masculine image we're trying to convey. Carnival freakshow tents of the twentieth century presumably advertised this very thing; alongside babies born with two asses where their faces should be and the Elephant Man and suchlike. Is this a sufficient salutation to badass mothers that punch a Tyrannosaurus Rex in its huge dangling dino mansack on a regular basis? It is not. We'd recommend revising this moniker to the Latin Holius Shittus.


Most pertinently, though, if we are defining manly as a resemblance to us dudefolks with our hands on our penises, gorillas are an indubitable 10 out of 10 on the manimals meter. Their sagacity is almost peerless in the shit-stained animal world. They are capable of using rudimentary tools, sticks to gauge water depth and serve as primitive monkey sex toys and similar shenanigans.

The endearing tale of Koko, the sign language monkey, was a revelation. She allegedly possesses the faculties to understand in excess of a thousand signs, and can communicate her desires in this way. She can even articulate convoluted sentences such as there's a f--kin' cat on my head, get rid of the bastard before I bite its head off and shit down its neck; thereafter raising my middle finger at the resultant fleshy mess of blood and crap. ("Koko has yet to perfect the limited array of signs she knows," her keeper blushed in a conciliatory manner. "She meant to say,There's a cat on my head. I want to hug it and love it.")

There is even conjecture that these hirsute bastards can construct flat pack bookshelves in well under six months, thus evading the usual exchange with their ape-wives:

"You've been up here for three hours! How's the wardrobe coming along?"

"Almost unpacked everything.Ah bollocks, the instructions are printed only in Yiddish."
Panel H? I've only got five of the bitches!Wait... what's a panel? and so forth.

Gorillas, in summation, are Human 2.0. How many of us, after all, possess the balls to grab our... balls and engage in a wanking good time before gaggles of flabbergasted zoo visitors? Not enough, gentlemen. Not enough.