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.

Renny Rants #1: Meat Walls

Well, that might be taking it too literally, but you get the general idea.

My irregular bunny hormones normally keep me from getting upset, or "livid," as certain Top Cheftestants like to eloquently put it. However, there are always certain actions that will instinctively make any species cringe and shake in frothy anger ("hulk-anize," as I shall put it).

Therefore, every now and then when I spot a tasty morsel worthy of rant-anizing, I may post it here. So without further ado...haha doo...

Why must groups of individuals insist on blocking passageways with conversation? I mean, they are welcome to be social, but can't they be social in a setting that doesn't cause a traffic jam? This is not a ravenous romp, does and bulls; the point of a pathway is to have a way to walk down the path. There is no way I'm getting past that blabbering armadillo surrounded by a flank of hedgehogs and porcupines.

I have prepared a couple of figures to prove my point (you are welcome to click on them for a full animated demonstration). First, we will refer to Figure 1, which displays a free-flowing pathway:

Notice how the four individuals can smoothly transition from Point Here to Point There? This is the way it should work. Meanwhile, those who wish to chat it up can do so beyond the black lines, away from the flow of traffic.

Now take heed at Figure 2, which shows a much darker and disastrous output:

Oh dear, what do we have here? A seemingly innocent "paddle" of Pac-people (paddle = a gang of Pac-people) have now been construed as dotty fools who enjoy keeping the Squares from getting to their Math classes.

Based upon the visual evidence, I strongly any of you "blockers" to move your gaggle to the side, or in a different locale, to allow for maximum happiness in all parties involved.

No need to debate - RELOCATE!

rabbit rabbit... (for realz)

Rabbit rabbit, folks. Yes, me me. Just please stop yoinking out tails off and storing them on a metallic chain, that really isn't cool. I mean, why do humans get all the luck? There we are, sneaking into Farmer Joe's Carrot Village, when *RIP* we turn around and spot some immature little boy, white fur in hand. All of a sudden, a searing pain emanates from the rumpal region, and knowing we took a good BM earlier that day, we know that can't be the case. It also feels rather drafty back there, and we metaphorically smack our heads, knowing another tail has been stolen by the sapiens.

Maybe we could sell you our extra fur at a reasonable price when we're molting, but this is a horrible time of year to be sabotaging the heat in our seat. I mean, the temps are dropping rather quickly lately, and my caboose is not meant to be utilized as an ice maker.

We beg you to find another means of luck. Stay away from horseshoes as well - you're making all the horses lose courage. Without courage, how will those stallions jump over cliffs and equestrian-related mascots will lose faith in their respective teams worldwide.

Long story short, do you feel lucky pal? Do you? Happy October!

Is it possible to meet the same rabbit twice?

Oh, hello there ladies and gent...men. Didn't notice you sneaking up on me. I was just perusing a couple of the classical rhetorical theoreticians (currently browsing Cicero's "De Oratore" - what a livid tale on the fantasy of the ideal speaker). This crisp autumn weather is perfect to catch up on various scholarly works, so I don't have to worry about getting furburn through the blistering days.

Philosophy is always a fun topic. It allows anybody to become an expert in any field by mere means of putting together words upon which they are supposedly devout. Big scary words are also a plus, even if they have no logical place in the argument. Grammar is not important. The blog is a transcending arena in which one unto upon therefore is quintillion. See? I'm a philosophizer too.

At least, that is the smartie smart academic philosophy. Then there is the more casual, "way of life" philosophy. This is the one not expressed by words, but by actions. If one's philosophy was uber-professional and cleanliness of all things in life, you'd see him (or Avril Lavigne) constantly wrapping that piece of fabric around the neck, or wiping after each...meal.

Personally, I put my philosophy right in that fancy banner right at the top. I'm a roamer, a dreamer, whatever you wanna call it. I drift from scene to scene, soaking up the fat and storing it in the freezer until an undetermined date when I forget to put it in the trash. If I judge, I judge out of momental observation, not out of predetermined opposition (unless it is referring to abomination that is Cup Noodles, the lazy person's ramen, but that's a totally diff subject). A person fails to stop at a stop sign? They are a bad driver at that moment for failing to stop. Perhaps the next moment they drive as well as the Blue's Brothers evading yet another swarm of police cars.

To make the short story long...erm...*that'll be no dinner for you for that egregious mistake, Michael*... I'm a spontaneous bunny hopping from thought to thought, not worrying about weaving them together. I guess that makes the blogosphere the perfect spot for me to ponder.

"An unexamined life is not worth living" -Socrates

Rabbit Surfing

This is madness. I am about to force Mike into making me a giant laminated poster I can tack above my flat screen (aren't all screens flat? I've never seen a jagged screen or even a fat screen) to remind me of the various potential primetime programs I need to view.

Even with the minimal summer programming, I was able to enjoy USA's "Burn Notice" and "Royal Pains," and SyFy's "Warehouse 13." Now that the mosquitoes are done trying to steal all my blood (an obvious conspiracy set up by the Red Cross) and the fur finally comes in handy after sweating my cottontail off, the Great Fall Lineup is here to warp our minds into a starchy green glop, devoid of motor skills, except at commercials when we rush to take care of business or work on emptying out the fridge.

Here is some of the craze I view:

• Sunday: "Bored to Death" (HBO, 9:30)
• Monday: "Heroes" (NBC, 8)
• Tuesday: "Hell's Kitchen" (FOX, 8)
• Wednesday: "Top Chef" (Bravo, 10)
• Thursday: "Flashforward" (ABC, 8), "The Office" (NBC, 9), "Community" (NBC, 9:30), "The Mentalist (CBS, 10)
• Friday: "Monk" (USA, 9), "Psych" (USA, 10)
• Saturday: Why would I watch TV when I'm too busy rocking out at the discotheque?

Sometimes I will watch anything in the open spots, as I am still trying to fill up a couple more spaces. Obviously I don't want every night to be chocked full of mindless programming, or I'll lose all my hare...hair...from the endearing glow of the tube.

Needless to say, my servant will be busy colorcoding my nights for the next couple months. And no, I have no color blind weaknesses as many of relatives have partially. I mean, I can talk. Aside from Bugs, who I have a sneaking suspicion is a robot facading as a child-friendly device, I don't know any other speaking rabbits.

Well, that is it for today's installment. I have always wanted to try turning somebody off with a remote. Let's see, where is that button...oh here it is *CLICK*

rabbit rabbit...

I have broken through! Escaped that silly animals-below-human barrier. I now exist in a world where we get the same opportunities as homo sapien, even without the established complex language and use of opposable thumbs. Welcome to...the Internet.

My name is Renny (which means "small yet mighty"), and I was born out of a magician's hat in nuclear-stricken Chernobyl. I am the newest creature to don their own personal blog on the World Wide Web. I bet you're wondering how I can create such beautiful sentence structures when I don't even have fingers, let alone the motor control to type on the keyboard.

It all started way back...last night when I spotted my previous humanoid master, Mike, committing a crime so evilly evil, that Evil itself would gasp and sputter. I quickly nudged his camera along the carpet, and leapt upon the snap snap button. I will let the evidence speak for itself:

I mean...SERIOUSLY?!?! How could such a being treat a species like that?! Those two angels were minding their own business, perhaps sniffing for some delectable truffles, or maybe frolicking in the rich mud, when *STOMP* they were transformed into consumer footwear.

He spotted me, and upon explaining the situation, I was able to blackmail him into becoming my personal human-servant to transcribe my daily events and occurrences. This includes, but is not limited to, photographs, philosophies, rants, plots and basically anything I want written down. Failure to be a good stenographer will land him straight in the middle of the pig's pen, however you want that to metaphorically mean a bad place.

Being an animal, with instincts, I do like to wander from location to location, especially if it means I get to sink my teeth into something new and delicious. Last time I checked I am not venomous, nor do I have rabies, but the doctor was a lemur, so I'm not exactly what was up with that.

I'm sure I still have work to do on this layout, but it will do for now. I hope my reign upon this webbed atmosphere will give other beings of so called "less human stature" the faith to try and capture their masters in a comprimising situation, only to reap a more fair status amongst beings of the world.

I will hop. I will skip. I will jump. Let our voices be heard!