Early Rabbit Gets the Front Seat

*stretches mandible and stares into the rising day* Ahh the mornings like these are the ones I have missed during my past couple months under snow arrest. Now that I'm out of rehab, I can finally go back to living my bunnytastical way of living. I mean, check out that sky. Before car pollution goes to work smothering the whatchamosphere and the giant bugs go zipping through the afternoon skies (in search of fresh blood), it belongs to me. Even if it is just this one captured moment.

It makes me wonder what the future'll be like for this overhead panoramia. What sorts of maddening gadgetry will the humans create next to imprison the sky in a stell-infused cage? Teleporters which reach to the clouds and beyond to instantly zip-n-zoom their rears from Chicago to Mumbai? It'll sure make that morning bird work to get its worm when it must dodge a battlement of blodacious bars blugeoning the vapors of yonder.

I understand that "BIGGER IS BETTER," "Instantaneous is the wave of the Future," and that "Money makes the world go round," but how soon after the world is transformed into a Mega-opolis of Hedonism will that round world stretch out and disform? We'll have to become Planet Taffy and succomb to intergalactic travelers who enjoy a little Wonka in their lives. This world needs a panel of moderators, consisting of a gaggle of the planet's species. Oh, and the ability to fully understand one another.

So here I sit, staring at today's Big Blue, hoping tomorrow it won't become a Big Red (gum is horrible for a rabbit, it always winds up in our ears for some odd reason). The first arrival chirps in the distance, while the familiar rumble of a semi rushes past. Will these forces co-exist peacefully in the time to come? Your guess is as good as mine, and my guess is that Mike didn't appreciate waking up early to a set of eager fangs affixed to his unkempt hair.

Through the Bunny-Glass

I suppose I could spare a minute or two to tell you, my loyal readers, about the time I spent down under. And no, not the yay fun down under where I can toss a boomerang on the arbie and pet a koala named Dundee, but the brr brr stuck under several feet of snow down under. You know, the one I shouldn't have been in for the wellfare of my own life.

Anyways, how did I survive may you wonder? Well, I wasn't a very happy customer when the leaf pile turned out to be a trap. I bet it was set by Mike - I need to keep a closer eye on him [ed: Don't listen to Renny, the coldness went straight to his brain]. The echoes of his snickering chilled my fur as the earth crumbled below my paws, casting me into the bonecrunching oblivion of dirt.

A month passed, leaving me to nibble on passing bugs and spend my days repeating "99 Bottles of Carrot Juice on the Wall" ad infinitium. A nail-sized hole permitted the continuation of my primal breathing functions. I could hear the sounds of sleigh bells and tidings of merriment taunt me from above. That is around when the Great Frost began.

It started as a howling wind, blasting my fur with its fierce breath. Slowly, the snow crystals sept into the soil. I fervently tore at the groundm and was able to open my prison cell to a more luxurious burrow. In other words, I could lift my feet without touching the corroted sides of my terra cavern. I was even able to catch a stiffened worm and affix several ants, creating my own Charlie Brown tree.

The remainder of the winter months were spent nibbling on a millipede (who tasted more like a centipede, blech) and humming several 'N Sync songs (don't judge - you'd do the same if a family of neighboring crickets chirped Lady Gaga day and night, day and night...).

I went into a sort of hallucinagetic phase late February. All the snow turned to Jell-O ®, and I swear I was visited by a snowman who said his name was Bronto. I kept this part from the doctors here - didn't want them diving into my drug history. It was the '70s - what would you have done?

Anyways, March came around and the snow began to melt. At that point my fur was so heavy I started sinking into the muddy pit of not-god-at-all. My cute little black buttony eyes were being smothered by granules of much, and I figured I'd finally test that Mythbusters experiment of getting buried underground (sans steely woden protection). The skies opened up, and I heard the noise of my personal deity coming to deliver me to that great carrot in the sky - woof?

Apparently some dogs were nearby getting sloshed, and picked up on my desperate pleaing in the form of various obscenities. Unconscious at the time, I was taken here, and thus here I am, residing in this protective buble of shame. They said I should be able to get outta here soon, but until then I'll just make Mike transcribe as much as I can possibly squeeze in before my next temperate therapy session.

Yup, they're calling me now. So yeh, watch out for those leaf piles, and I hope I can roam more than three feet soon. Cheers!

Out of the Bunny Hole

"If only I had known that leaf pile was a portal to an arctic dimension, I would have eaten pumpkin pie instead," Renny the rabbit spoke from within his medical bubble.

Saturday, March 20, Renny was discovered trapped in a snowy prison near the suburbs of Siberia. A lengthy investigation into the incident found the hare had leapt into a pile of leaves approximately eight feet deep. The brisk weather caused the pile to cave in on Renny, trapping his weight within for nearly five months.

He was discovered by a team of French St. Bernards during their annual John E. Cooper Brandy Convention. "We deh not kneu what ze wabbit waz doing under ze sneu, but heez fangs were tres terrifyeeng," Francis, the alpha St. Bernard, bellowed.

Following the rescue was a two-week period of deep intensive therapy for Renny, in which he was reacclimated to proper temperature conditions. Dr. Mole, the lead physician on staff at Burrow General, believes that a few more weeks under the snow would have caused the rabbit's fur to clump into a spiky cluster of icicles, causing a sure porcupinal demise.

Renny is currently finishing his stay at Burrow General, and should be able to leave his medical bubble shortly. His owner and caretaker, Mike had no comment on the matter. Negligence charges have been considered, but have not currently been issued.

Rabbitizing the Autumn

Oh, how I love when the sweltering summer leaves and the air becomes like a crispy potato chip (a healthy one, at that). Mosquitoes fly south in a Q-fashion (trying to show up the ducks in a "you got served!" fashion), and the nut-armed squirrels take their post.

This is my favorite time of the year to go hopping down the street in my rad, denim jacket I made Mike design for me. My eyes peer toward the streets, hoping to find an unsuspecting pile of leaves into which I frivolously leap. Meet your maker...err...I guess that would be right above you...um...meet me!

I got a little sick from all that candy I gnashed, but at least that's it until Thanksgiving. I personally blame Snickers for the peanuts...that's almost a food group!

I do wish the weather would make up it's mind. First it's cold, then it's hot, then torrential rain. My fur doesn't do well under constant barometric changes. Mike even said I was missing a little patch one night, but I think he was pulling my puff tail after the night before when I made him turn my pellet waste into a life-size sculpture of myself.

I plan to talk about autumn, but I finish with poop; I hope you didn't fall for that crap.

A Hare-Raising Tale...

Candy candy candy. I love candy. Candy here, candy there, candy in my underwear (that is, if rabbits wore drawers). *gobble gobble* No, don't give me any of that pet chocolate shtuff, I want me some good eatin's! I didn't become mutated for nothing! *gobble*

All Hallow's Eve is a wondrous time when youths of all species enjoy donning an alternate identity. Why, just five minutes ago a brown bear cub came ToTing to my door, dressed as a human. Such a cliche costume, it's been around for years. Still, the quest to achieve either a trick or a treat is a daunting one, and treats are tossed around like an overclocked lawn sprinkler.

I remember some of the costumes I used to bust out. My favorite might have been the maniacal bunny with razor sharp teeth; now that was a complete transformation...

Anyways, I hope any of you ToTers have a good time. Be safe, double check that candy, and don't eat it all in one night (unless you have super metabolism, then go nuts - unless you are alergic). I'm gunna go and watch "Curse of the Were-Rabbit"...oh that Wallace...Happy Halloween!

birethday bunbny

i gaavewr my tyypijist the nijght offd for huijsd bfirthday, soo itrs just me tohnit. Itsd ratjher dikffdicult to typr with pasws like thids, so thid ewill hacve to be dshort.



today i baskedf in trhe gloryu oifd my sewrvant, eatibng naxchosd andf derinbkibng soda.,

i rermemberre my couisdinsd bkirthsaty xclebrstion, it ewa oddf trer hook..

foregrety it, rasbbits reaslly got sdcrrewed on ther whole abilikty to effercftrively communicste, the stoty weill have to wasit fore anpother dasy. Cheeersd.

Bunny-volution

You might wanna grab your headlamp and dusting brush the next time you are cleaning your house, cause you might be walking straight into an archaeological dig!

Recent cottontail studies have unearthed an amazing discovery. Fossilized remains of an ancient rabbit culture have been found in the dining region of Housera. This incredible finding has been given the name Bunnus dustius (or merely "Dusty"), and it is now believed that Dusty is now one of the earliest examples of rabbit frivolity.

Many critics say this finding is merely yet another report of Doggus hairus, but I know that's bollocks. Being an expert in the field (I got my B.S. in Social Evolution at Elizabethtown College...the carrot cake suckered me in), I got a chance to take a close look at the specimen. Upon examining the creature's structure and anatomical anomalies, my hypothesis was confirmed.

This always makes me think about the constant changing of our species. Why was Dusty killed off? What do I have that makes me such a better mold? What will become of Bunnus? Will the future bunnies have laser beams and extendable rolls of duct tape to stick our tails back on? What will happen to them...will we (Bunnus Modernis) ever coexist with them?

Coincidentally, this occurrence has coincided with an important human archaeological find, one of Ardipithecus ramidus (or "Ardi" if you are a normal person). Because of the humanoid control over the world, they get a special, "Discovering Ardi," tonight (10/11) on Discovery at 9PM. Copycats.