Remember the game Barrel of Monkeys? Milton Bradley sold the game, which came with a toy barrel in blue, red, yellow or green with 12 tiny toy monkeys. How you played was you hooked a monkey to the barrel, then hooked another monkey to that monkey's arm, and so on and so on, creating a chain of monkeys. When a monkey falls, your turn is over.

Sounds like fun to me. If I were four years old.

But at a recent happy hour, I was reminded of the innocent game. Someone ordered a chocolate-banana drink from the bar, which comes with a plastic monkey. After throwing back a few drinks ourselves, Derek Carder and I looked at this monkey, then looked at each other, clearly thinking the same brilliant idea. We asked the bartender for extra monkeys, and after enduring a few weird looks, we played our own version of Barrel of Monkeys.



I won! Shoot...how will I drink my beer now?



An army of monkeys. Wow, look at all those empty glasses in the background...


Monkeys are delicious.

Hey, our own version of Barrel of Monkeys, employees slapping the CEO, you never know what to expect at a Zappos happy hour.

Why does Brett – hard core rock ‘n roller, natural born Hoosier and wavy-haired God – look so sad? Look closely. Look carefully.

A rock God doesn’t wear a baby tee-sized sweatshirt. Baby tees, yes. But not a midriff-baring sweatshirt where the sleeves don’t even quite make it to his wrists.

You might be asking, “So, does Brett shop at Baby Gap?” The answer is maybe, because I don’t know Brett that well, but I do know that this sweatshirt is too small because his Mama put it in the dryer for a bit too long.

And he is sad about it. Clearly.

“I love my Mama…but I really loved that sweatshirt,” he said this morning. Lesson learned: a mother’s laundering skills fade over time.