Years ago, Cruel Wife ran over a nest of baby bunnies with a mower†.
Not a hare one a single one of those bunny heads was harmed, but it shook her up miserably for the afternoon. She was distraught with the possibilities.
Possibilities? Two words:
Wabbitburger Helper
Actual cuts of meat would have been impossible at that point.
Why bring it up? Because it is almost Easter, that’s why. I’m still going to suggest cooking either a rabbit stuffed with a chicken or a chicken stuffed with a rabbit. Hasenchicken. Chickabun. Flopsycock. (Scratch that last one, eh?) Not sure how to sell that to the kids in a way that won’t cause discord. Perhaps blended-meat meals like Turducken should remain apart.
Are we doomed as a culture since so many of us laugh at the above strip? Are we just bad actors in the theater of history?
Nah. That’s funny.
† We do not own a John Deere, although I can dream…
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Still no sign of Jack L. Katt. Flyers go up tomorrow but I’m not going to get my hopes up. At this point if he comes home I’ll kill him for making me worry about his furry dumb ass. Damn cat.
Archival Photo: Jack L. Katt after transplantation to HackerBoy’s bunkbed without rejection.
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An e:mail chain at work involved a discussion about “esperanto” and synthetic languages. At some point Klingon was debated because it did not show up on a list of synthetic languages, starting when Black Lab on Methamphetamines said:
Klingon isn’t there either. It’s a list of constructed languages meant to be used, not all constructed/fictional languages.
C0-worker Inscrutable Half-Breed replied:
I’m always astounded by how many geeks and nerds I’m surrounded with at all time.
<sniff> I love you guys…
And characteristic for my attitude this week, I responded:
I don’t. I don’t love you guys.
How about “I really intensely tolerate you guys”? Is that good enough?
It’s been a long couple of weeks, actually.
I’m taking Monday off, handing the kids off to the sitter for a few hours, and going with Cruel Wife to go look at a high-end antiques store purely for the enjoyment of it.
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If you can handle “disturbing sports injuries”, then may I suggest you scroll down to #1 on the list at Cracked.com? That must’ve taken balls.
It has taken me 13 years to learn how to shake off that traumatic baby bunny incident. Don’t push it mister… The babies were three inches long, tops.
Closer to 5 inch bunnies and I bet they were so tender it would take one’s breath away. Baby animals just taste better.
Hopes for the return of that lousy cat. They worm their way in and then they vanish. Just a damn cat, indeed. I’d be a wreck.
I thought it was particularly inconsiderate of the little beast (see today’s post on his passing).
I have a friend who swears that baby seals make the best enchiladas.
BTW, what do you get when you run over a canary with a lawn mower?
A: Shredded tweet.
::ducks and runs::
Ooh, I bet baby seals do make great enchiladas. I’m a tamale lover, I wonder how baby-seal/huitlacoche tamales would taste…
Did you ever see the post where the seal-lover got really, really, truly pissed at me?
https://lemurking.wordpress.com/2009/04/09/club-a-wow-seal-senseless-today/
I’ll tell the kids the shredded tweet one in a few weeks.
Yeah, I read through that, and considered commenting, but figured I didn’t want to be the guy who dropped a comment (no matter how soft and squishy) on a 3+ year old thread. Amazing how quickly the huggy-feely types can go from “quest in a GAME” to “you would club a seal in real life if you had the opportunity SODIECHOKINGONATWINKIEYOUHEARTLESSBASTARD” so quickly. It actually gave me whiplash, ya know.
The thing is, I doubt very many of the huggy-feely types have ever seen a baby harp seal in the wild, much less embraced it in brotherly love. How do I know this? Because they have yet to be rent asunder by pissed-off adult (female, 1 each) harp seal for coming within 50 feet of Lil’ Angel. Apparently, most of the denizens of the Wild Kingdom did not get the memo about the whole huggy-feely thing. Most either ate the messenger, or poisoned him/her, or simply disappeared at his/her approach. Yeah…there’s a reason why they call it the WILD Kingdom.