Hellbunny and Pat Benatar
Last night I couldn't sleep. The bunny upstairs was making far too much noise. I know, I know, you're surprised, you didn't even know bunnies made noise. Well, I'm not saying he was barking or anything, but I have to say, I think that clatter that this little lagomorph was making was far worse than a bark.
Sometime around 2am I moved to the living room because I couldn't take the bunny racket anymore. It sounds like he's ramming into his cage, which is ramming into the wall and that he's moving all around and the cage is sliding on the floor. I've talked to the neighbors before about it. They thought that maybe if they stuck a mat underneath of him he won't make as much noise. They also put this special root all over the bars. Apparently the root taste terrible to bunnies and he won't chew on the bars anymore. (but if he is smart like I was as a child, when my mother tried a similar tactic to get me to stop sucking my thumb, he'll figure a way to wipe it off.) Essentially, I think it's much more than chewing the bars of his cage anyway. I picture this bunny doing tae-bo, jumping jacks, and dance dance revolution all at one time and his cage-rattling is just too much to bear. It started driving me a little crazy as I was tossing and turning and started thinking these very Fuddian thoughts about "wabbit stew".
I suddenly dreaded any point in my life when I may have compared myself to a bunny -- you know, thinking that they were soft and cute. -- I guess that was a stupid thing to do anyway, but don't worry, I think I only ever compared myself to a bunny when I was wearing a bikini, and a bunny in a bikini is a far funnier thing. (Of course, I immediately googled "bunny in bikini" thinking I'd get hilarious images: but as soon as the page came up I remembered there are such things as Playboy Bunnies, and this search was only going to yield one thing - yes, boobies.)
Oh, so on the couch last night, where I only had to deal with the neighbors laughing and the tink-tinking of their beer bottles - oh and the pedestrian, every once in a while who would shout as they were walking by my house shouting in domestic arguments with their baby daddy. Anyway, I fell asleep at some point. And had this horrible nightmare.....If horrible can be hilarious at the same time.
I had this dream that I had been selected by MTV for one of those shows where you meet this person you are a fanatic about. In my dream I told MTV that I always went to tax-lo (this baltimore dance night) or something (which is funny, because I never go) oh and that it was at my old high school and that more than anything I'd love to meet Pat Benatar. So apparently I won this prize and Pat Benatar was going to show up at my high school and meet me. I was really confused and tired in my dream and I had just arrived from my mother's house. I showed up at my high school (knowing nothing about this Pat Benatar thing) opened the Girl's room door and decided it was too crowded so I was going to go home. Apparently it was crowded because all of the girls were surrounding Pat Benatar. --Now, if you don't know this about me already-- When awake, I don't know anything about music. I don't even know if Pat Benatar is alive or dead or any song that she might have sang. And somehow, last night, in my dream, the entire time, "hit me with your best shot" was playing - does this mean that subconsciously I actually know AND am a fanatic for Pat Benatar?
When I woke up I couldn't figure out why was I so upset when MTV told me that I missed my one and only chance to meet her? Why did I cry when Pat's chauffeur chastised me and told me what a waste of time this was for Ms. Benatar and how she'll never be able to save face from being ignored on MTV, and that it was all my fault. She wouldn't even look at me. She was so mad at me and I kept sobbing and sobbing. I was such a wreck in my dream, but now I understand, it is quite possible that I secretly am her greatest fan, and didn't even know it. What else did she sing? Maybe someone should burn me one of her CD's.
Sometime around 2am I moved to the living room because I couldn't take the bunny racket anymore. It sounds like he's ramming into his cage, which is ramming into the wall and that he's moving all around and the cage is sliding on the floor. I've talked to the neighbors before about it. They thought that maybe if they stuck a mat underneath of him he won't make as much noise. They also put this special root all over the bars. Apparently the root taste terrible to bunnies and he won't chew on the bars anymore. (but if he is smart like I was as a child, when my mother tried a similar tactic to get me to stop sucking my thumb, he'll figure a way to wipe it off.) Essentially, I think it's much more than chewing the bars of his cage anyway. I picture this bunny doing tae-bo, jumping jacks, and dance dance revolution all at one time and his cage-rattling is just too much to bear. It started driving me a little crazy as I was tossing and turning and started thinking these very Fuddian thoughts about "wabbit stew".
I suddenly dreaded any point in my life when I may have compared myself to a bunny -- you know, thinking that they were soft and cute. -- I guess that was a stupid thing to do anyway, but don't worry, I think I only ever compared myself to a bunny when I was wearing a bikini, and a bunny in a bikini is a far funnier thing. (Of course, I immediately googled "bunny in bikini" thinking I'd get hilarious images: but as soon as the page came up I remembered there are such things as Playboy Bunnies, and this search was only going to yield one thing - yes, boobies.)
Oh, so on the couch last night, where I only had to deal with the neighbors laughing and the tink-tinking of their beer bottles - oh and the pedestrian, every once in a while who would shout as they were walking by my house shouting in domestic arguments with their baby daddy. Anyway, I fell asleep at some point. And had this horrible nightmare.....If horrible can be hilarious at the same time.
I had this dream that I had been selected by MTV for one of those shows where you meet this person you are a fanatic about. In my dream I told MTV that I always went to tax-lo (this baltimore dance night) or something (which is funny, because I never go) oh and that it was at my old high school and that more than anything I'd love to meet Pat Benatar. So apparently I won this prize and Pat Benatar was going to show up at my high school and meet me. I was really confused and tired in my dream and I had just arrived from my mother's house. I showed up at my high school (knowing nothing about this Pat Benatar thing) opened the Girl's room door and decided it was too crowded so I was going to go home. Apparently it was crowded because all of the girls were surrounding Pat Benatar. --Now, if you don't know this about me already-- When awake, I don't know anything about music. I don't even know if Pat Benatar is alive or dead or any song that she might have sang. And somehow, last night, in my dream, the entire time, "hit me with your best shot" was playing - does this mean that subconsciously I actually know AND am a fanatic for Pat Benatar?
When I woke up I couldn't figure out why was I so upset when MTV told me that I missed my one and only chance to meet her? Why did I cry when Pat's chauffeur chastised me and told me what a waste of time this was for Ms. Benatar and how she'll never be able to save face from being ignored on MTV, and that it was all my fault. She wouldn't even look at me. She was so mad at me and I kept sobbing and sobbing. I was such a wreck in my dream, but now I understand, it is quite possible that I secretly am her greatest fan, and didn't even know it. What else did she sing? Maybe someone should burn me one of her CD's.
posted by j-e-s-s-i-c-a at 9:49 AM
2 Comments:
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um this isn't a bunny but
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