Workers at the Bronx Zoo still can't find a giant cobra that escaped from their reptile house . . . (pause) . . . Here are the Top Signs You're at a Really Bad Zoo.

The baboon's ass is nowhere near as red and swollen as the brochure promised.

The three-toed sloth is a mutated Japanese kid.

The bear exhibit is a hairy gay dude sipping an Appletini with a twinkle in his eye.

An employee asks you to stop sprinkling giraffe feed on your junk.

The elephants start humping AFTER your camera battery dies.

You witness the gorilla give birth to a creature that looks suspiciously like the zookeeper.

The lions simply sit and stare at the fat kid who just tumbled over the embankment.

The monkeys can throw their feces at you, but if you throw your feces at them, everyone gets all mad.

Their Herpetarium is just displays of blisters. (If you get that, YOU are too bright for radio!)

For some reason, they totally freak out when you whip a beer bottle at that one a-hole giraffe.

Even though it's spring, you can't get a single rhino to hump you.

Even the Mexican families think the airbrushed tank tops at the gift shop are too gaudy.

The octopus is using all eight arms to diddle your girlfriend.

The snack bar is open. As are the sores on the dude making the churros.

Someone replaced the walrus with a naked and confused Wilfred Brimley.

Zippers are clearly visible on the unicorn's neck.

Daily cafeteria special: Baby seal sliders.

Admission is free . . . but it'll cost you five bucks to see the cockfights.

The camels are being ridden by gun-toting Muslim extremists.

Their African Hippo claims it was actually born in Hawaii.