Monkey Mind

For days now I have been saturated in the music of 2046, particularly Perfidia, which occupies my mind like a mantra so all I need do is tune into it, it is always already there. This morning however, as I made myself an ethereal second breakfast of melon and jasmine tea, I realised the file has been corrupted and I was singing Chlamydia.

I need not ask who has been messing with my mind.

The monkey also loves opera bufo (having a fondness for Mr Toad) and maybe more to the point, a great love of puns.