Sharing 98.7% of our DNA, bonobo's are essentially the estranged, hippie cousins we recently discovered via Ancestory.com who have a more interesting and verbally pleasing last name than we do (or at least than I do-- mispronouncing-- or pronouncing-- "Raskauskas" is like audio-witnessing a communicatory car crash, but "Bonobo" sounds awesome no matter how you say it). The Bonobo's don't travel much, so they didn't come to the family reunion in the Poconocs last year-- or to the one at the Jersey Shore in '94 where Uncle Mack got arrested for disturbing the peace and Uncle Buck had to bail him out of jail at 4:30 am.
The rest of the family thinks the Bonobo's are crazy because they're strict vegans who live in the jungle and sleep in the treetop nests; but I think it's jealousy since our side of the family only got opposable thumbs, but the Bonobo's got long legs, prominent breasts, and a slim, trim frame. And because the peaceful, matriarchal monkeys have more sexual freedom than 1960s flower children-- these horny little monkeys pretty much have sex with whomever they want to, whenever they want to (which tends to be about every 2 hours-- get it, girl!).
As our closest living relatives, bonobos communicate, feel, and relate very similarly to how we do, and the animals display compassion, patience, and sensitivity towards one another. They develop strong, lasting relationships, and use sex as a way to bond, to resolve conflicts, and to greet each other.
Thanks to deforestation and excessive hunting, our cousin's are on the brink of extinction, but we can help save this swinging species. Instead of donating money to Uncle Buck for Uncle Mack's bail, donate money to the WWF to symbolically adopt a bonobo and they'll give you this freaking adorable bonobo stuffed animal.
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Information and images from the World Wildlife Federation website.