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Keep hearing "It's not living" by the 1975 on the radio, and there's this bit of the song where it sounds like he's singing about having a twenty stone monkey that he "just can't eat" and let me tell you folks that's one hell of a mental image
Now, the heaviest living monkey is the mandrill - a massively sexually dimorphic species where males can grow up to 50kg, and there are reports of exceptional individuals of 60kg. Even being generous and accepting the possibility of a 70kg mandrill, that's still only 10 stone.
So a mandrill twice that mass would likely be extraordinarily obese, to the extent where it's probably not likely to be moving. If the geezer in the song is talking about eating a monkey of that size, it would pobably have to be some sort of nightmare tray bake scenario.
I'm not going to fat-shame our theoretical 20 stone mandrill, but he's not going to make a very appetising meal. I mean, any way you want to cook that, it's going to be absolutely *swimming* in molten primate grease.
Also, I'm not going to beat around the bush: mandrills - and especially male ones - completely *reek*. Scent is a very big deal for them and they've got what you'd charitably call a robust relationship with their own shit. That would 100% linger after cooking.
So every time I hear that song, and he wistfully sings about not being able to eat this huge monkey, I imagine him being served this bathtub-sized, hadal lasagna of absolutely honking, oily mandrill meat, and I DO NOT BLOODY BLAME HIM. THAT'S NOT A FUN MEAL.
