Tuesday, December 24, 2013

[Rabbit Stories] Mr Mick, Postal Bunny.


Mr Mick was sniffing the pile of envelopes in the "out" spot. "That is not food!" he was told sternly.

"Of course it's not food," he humphed. "I'm just questioning whether you can get this delivered to Canada before Christmas." He gave a front paw flick in his Humum's general direction.

"Yeah yeah, you don't like the tree." He was told.

"Apparently today is not a listen to Mickey day." He grumped and settled down for a nap. He'd just have to sort everything out himself.

* * *

After everyone was asleep, he let himself out of his habitat and hopped over to the pile. "As if I'd chew my own face off." he muttered as he nosed through them and found the Canadian. "Want anything done right.. " He continued to mutter as he dragged it to the closet.

A few not-so-Christmassy words were growled when he had trouble closing the door because the cardboard envelope was in the way. He bit the bottom and folded it a bit and grumped some more. Soon enough he was at the other end, head spinning.

"Doesn't your human ever close this door?" Mickey grumbled as he hauled the envelope out.

"No." Freddie answered, stretching and making his way to the door of his cage. "She thinks bunnies can't get through then."

"Feh. Humans." He dragged the envelope and looked around. Deciding on the futon as good a place as any he grabbed the much abused bottom and head flicked it up onto the red mattress. "And that's not dinner!" Mick said with a thump of a hind paw.

" Not yet anyway." Freddie said cheerfully enough. He got most of the paper recycling to play with."You hanging out?"

"Nah. I have other deliveries to make. I suspect Speedy's is in the pile too, and who the fluff knows when that'd get there if we left it to the postal services." He yawned and stretched. "A bunny's work is never done!"

He hopped into the closet, closing the door behind him.

* * *

The human stumbled out of bed muttering something about coffee the next morning. She stopped and looked at that closet door. "Why'd I close that..?" Too early to figure that stuff out.

Kettle on, the human stumbled back to the living room to read email. Pulling the laptop onto her lap her brow furrowed as she looked at the envelope propped up across from her. "When'd that get here?" She couldn't remember if she'd checked the mail the day before or not. Guess she had, though she'd thought she'd have opened anything from Jade and Mr Mick right away.

Coffee forgotten, the human proceeded to squee over the calender. "Aww.. wook at this one!" she showed it to Freddie who feigned a vague interest in the two dimensional pictures he couldn't really see. He say the big brown lump often enough that he didn't need pictures anyway.

"Did I remember to send a card to Mr Mick?" The human asked.

"Did you remember to send anyone cards?" Freddie asked, eyeing the pile on the coffee table.

A yawn, a stretch and she put the calender up on the wall. "Now Mr Mick doesn't need to show up every month and sabotage my calender so it always shows him!" 

"He probably will anyway." Freddie said before grooming his tail. "Which is good, he can open this cage door faster that I can."

"Coffee. Shower." the human muttered, disappearing back into the kitchen.

"And pumpkin seeds for the gerbil!" Freddie chirped after her. "Not that you'll listen. I guess I'll just have to get them myself."



 


Friday, December 20, 2013

[Gerbil News] Newsflash! This just in!





Gerbil sneezes may just be about the cutest noise I have ever heard in my life.

(He's fine - just got a piece of litter on his nose.)



Friday, December 13, 2013

[Christmas Videos!] Whoops - forgot to put this in the last post.

It's Dominick the Christmas Donkey!

Carol of the Horde .. Eh, close enough. (<3 Letomi, sue me.)

[Bunny Stories] Christmas Party!

(My Mum's Christmas tree as I'm too injured to put up my own.) 

'Twas many nights before Christmas and trouble was stirring, thanks to one little desert mouse..

"You got the place for four days?!" Mick sounded jealous. "My Humom never leaves ME alone for that long."

"You'd die of starvation." Freddie chirped, scurrying along the couch. "Eat yourself out of house home the first day."

Thump went a hind paw, "Would not!"

"Would too!"

"Would not!"

"Would too!"

Two rapid thumps, "Ahem. Gentlemen?" Speedy said in his rather cool accent. Maddy fanned herself with a forepaw. Umbra rolled her eyes.

Harrington and Hannah were snuggling under the futon on the yoga mat. "This is comfy!" Hannah observed.

"And remarkably unused." Freddie agreed. "The Humum thinks she needs a bed mattress to protect her tailbone."

"Well, it's .. uhm.. pretty!" Harrington offered. The lilac DID go with his fur nicely.

Maddy snorted and hopped up onto the futon where Freddie was trying to shove pillows off. She grabbed a smiley face pillow and tossed on the floor. "Watch it!" thumped Umbra. "Then getouttatheway!" grunted Maddy back.

"Foo' Does." Mickey muttered and got a pillow bounced off his head for his trouble. "Hey!" He protested.

"It's in the closet." Freddie answered, leaving Maddy to organize pillows for bunnies. Bossing beings about was her speciality. "The Guinea Pigs made a cake and brought in a bale." He peered down off the arm of the futon, "Do you think an entire bale will be enough?" He asked Mickey a little too sweetly. Mickey chomped teeth in the gerbil's direction.

Speedy ignored the chaos and hopped to the closet to pull out the food goods, putting them on the kitchen floor. He then grabbed the leash on the fridge door to open it, standing up on hind feet to pull out the box containing the carrot margaritas and kale smoothies. Speedy was the designated portal hopper for the evening since his humum might be suspicious at a drunken bunny at ten o'clock in the morning!

Umbra hopped up to help shove the box to half-wall between kitchen and living room.

Freddie scrambled down off the futon and up the leg of the coffee table to jump on the remote a few times. The TV sprang to life with a picture of Christmas tree. "Humum's back is all growly so she's not put up a proper one this year." Freddie explained, "She's threatened to put the lights up in January and just leave them on. They are kinda pretty." He scurried off the coffee table and to the netbook, a few more hops, mutters about the dislike of Linux, and "Dominick the Christmas Donkey" started playing.

Freddie got several startled bunnies staring at him. "It's the humum's second favourite Christmas carol behind 'Carol of the Bells'. I like this one better." Freddie explained before scurrying to the bale of hay to stand up, holding a small glass of corn wine. "Here's to friend, past and present, to adventure's had and adventure's to come. Here's to happiness and mayhem, chaos and cheer, and may the next be another good year!"

The bunnies thumped their appreciation of the toast and had various drinks to celebrate.

"And here's to no cameras when I get so drunk I fall on my ear." Added Mickey before downing a margarita.

 

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

[Personal Ramble] What do you do?

(Myself and Miss Sage, Dutch Diva, ATB)

Michelle over at Raspberry Rabbits asked "What do you do?"

My first response, as per the norm, was a smart ass one of "As little as possible!" but having received a good scolding from a friend about my view of my life, I gave it a second thought. Fibro and body damage limits what I can physically so I do what I can mentally.

I like to think I make the world, or at least my little corner of it, a better place. I try to be happy and cheerful, I try to help people when I have the resources (physical, financial, whatever) to do so. I dream. I try to guide people away from hateful actions and towards acceptance. I try to believe the best in people even if I get burned. I try to smile even when life is being a big pile of doggie droppings. (Happy doesn't mean healthy, but if I can be happy and unhealthy, it beats unhappy and unhealthy!)

I write. Not as much as I used to, by a long shot, but I still flex my creative juices. I like to think I entertain a few, I make a few smile, and sometimes produce and out and out giggle or two. Sometimes my goal is to spread information, or to open a few eyes, or just to vent my spleen. Even happy people have wave your hands in the air and splutter days!

I try to be a good friend. I try to be there to listen, to offer advice, to assist as I'm able. I may not be able to help move your furniture, but I can listen to you rant about what a douchebag your boss is! I'm also awesome at writing resumes and cover letters. No connection. ;)

I also may have a slight soft spot for animals and easily wound around the softest paw.

What do I do? Try to be the best me I can be. If someone want a profession, I typically say "writer" but I like to think the reality is so much more.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

RMR: Rick at the Royal Winter Fair



One thing great about Rick Mercer is that all the clips from his show go up on Youtube. Here's his bit with the bunnies.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

[Bunny Rant] Rick Mercer (@rickmercer), 4H and Bunnies.



Dearest Rick,

You know I love you. You're my second favourite Canadian behind Michael J. (Sorry, he's cuter.) I love you ahead of my, and the rest of Canada's, boyfriend George S! If that isn't adoration, what is? However, on your show tonight (November 26th, 2013) I twitched; twice. It wasn't just a friendly nose twitch, it was a golden education opportunity missed. Yes, I'm talking about your bit with the rabbits; you chose 4H as the representatives, but that's like asking pork farmers to tell you about truffle hunting. I'll apologize now for coming across as the zealot I am when it comes to pet rabbits.

The "Look lady, I have stuff to do, politicians to harass, jokes to write" short form is :

- Hutches aren't enough. Bunnies need room to run.
- Bunnies are indoor animals. Predators can literally scare them to death outside, and if not possums, then weather.
- Bunnies are litterbox trainable.
- Bunnies are intelligent, creative and like having cute little three year olds hopping around your feet.
- Bunnies need to be spayed or neutered. (Just like cats and dogs!)
- Bunnies can be clicker trained. (As you saw when you got to do bunny jumping.)
- Bunnies are a long time commitment! They can live 10 - 12 years!

If you're still with me, here's the longer version of the shpiel. A better written version can be found over on The House Rabbit Society's website.

Bunnies, like cats and dogs, are indoor animals who need room to move, the right food, care, toys, and love. Many think bunnies are boring animals that live in a cage, eat carrots, poop and live to the "ripe old age" of four or five. You'd be pretty boring too if you spent your entire live in a two meter by two meter box.

The house rabbit (aka, the pet bunny) needs hay and lots of it. It should have access to fresh hay at all times, preferably timothy or orchard grass. If you're not lucky to live in farm country, then you can always find lots of the internet. You can also typically find horse people who'll sell you a flake so you don't have to buy an entire bale and wonder what you're going to do with a huge chunk of hay for the rest of the year. They deserve a salad to eat each dinner, from the store spring mix if you're lazy like me works well. Pellets should be limited and should be timothy based. Sweets like carrots, or apple, or other tidbits should be treats only. A fingernail size per pound of bunny is a serving.

Bored bunnies are destructive bunnies, just like bored dogs or bored humans! Bunny toys are a mix of creative ingenuity and raiding the stocks of other pet aisles. Bunnies like to fling things and chew things. Stackable cups, toilet paper rolls stuffed with hay, parrot wood and rope toys, all these keep a bunny happy and busy. A companion is also a good choice since if you're not around to snuggle or play with your bunny, they will get very lonely.

A happy bunny is a farting bunny. Bunnies require knowledgeable vets. Aside from being fixed to make them better companion animals, bunnies have delicate bones, delicate digestive systems and respiratory issues. Downside is, not all vets study bunnies and not all are willing to learn about them so vet care can get quite expensive quite quickly. A lot of animal insurance companies also don't consider rabbits eligible.

When someone says they have forty-seven rabbits, I automatically wonder how those rabbits are living. They can't possibly be getting the love, attention and exercise they need. Even rescuers who have divided up their house to help the rascally rabbits would blanch at taking care of that number. I often tell would-be rabbit slaves, er, owners, that they need to watch Bugs Bunny vs. Daffy Duck .. and they'll have less luck than Daffy.

If you want to spend your afternoon being overrun by cute, I'm sure that Rabbit Rescue Inc would be thrilled to help you.

Thank you for listening!

Stepping off my soap box,
Lorna Appleby

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

[Gerbilly Goodness] Freddie the Good.


He's a good gerbil, really.

His cage has two doors, one at floor level and them another on par with the second shelf. (Aka, third floor.) For whatever reason, I'd fed him via the upper door (He was probably climbing the walls for a piece of popcorn) and then either not closed it after or not latched it very well.

I noticed the door had been open when I went over to give him a piece of popcorn. He was sitting on his shelf, nose twitching in the open doorway, but he didn't try to escape. The notebook on the table wasn't nibbled, the open bag of pumpkin seeds hadn't been eaten or rifled through, his hated travel carrier not pushed off the tabel.

He knew the door was open but he stayed inside anyway. If I open the bottom one, he runs out like a shot. It's not like he can't climb the walls, he's quite good at it, I guess he just knew that something wasn't 'right' and he wasn't going to escape. This time, of course, next time it's probably fair game.

Of course, it also may have been a Mickly visitor who was just trying to get a certain foo' gerbil in trouble..

Monday, November 18, 2013

[Rabbit Stories] Mr Mick, the Doctor.. JUST A RABBIT?!

video


Mr Mick gave the door of the TARDIS a good thump. It was opened shortly there after by Martha. "Oh, Mickey! Welcome back!"

"HMPH!" said the indignant lop as he hopped past her and into the control room and sat up on his hind paws and glared at the Doctor.

"Look, I know what you're going to say.." He stood, straightening his tie. "And there's a very simple explanation.."

"JUST a rabbit?!" Mickey growled. "JUST A RABBIT?!"

"Well, you see.." The Doctor coughed, "The human recording devices don't pick up the rabbit's end of the conversation. You missed out on it entirely. He was threatening me the little bu.. er, fuzzy bottom. Then I realized how it all must sound to the watchers!"

"Tell me another one." Mickey said with a 'hmph,' settling back down to all fours.

"There I was, running along, and I pass Mr Floppy Ears. Oh, I don't know his real name, he didn't bother to tell me THAT."

The Doctor pulled up the archive footage of him running through a forest. When the bunny appeared, he put on a bad fake rabbit voice. "You! STOP! I am your destroyer."

Back to his normal voice, "So I, like the reasonable person I am, I stopped and explained why this wasn't a wise path for him to hop." The video played through 'Whatever you have planned, forget it. I'm the Doctor, I'm nine hundred and four years old, I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I am the oncoming storm, the bringer of darkness.."

The video paused, "And that's about when I realized I had an audience and I must look like a right fool, so to throw them off track, I added the next bit, y'know, the just a rabbit part. It was for your own good too, y'know! You don't want every Tom, Dick and Mary knowing about you and your real rabbity ways, do you?"

"Hmph."

"If it's any conciliation, he told me about that point he was digging my grave and asked if I wanted anything special at my funeral."

"Good." Mr Mick replied grumpily. The buff coloured rabbit looked thoughtful for a moment, "Do you?"

"Not really, just a big bonfire." The Doctor replied.

"Tell 'em about the socks." Martha interjected helpfully.

"OH! YES! The Socks! THE SOCKS, Mickey!" The Doctor held up his pant legs to show a pair of socks with several nibble holes. "They ALL look like this. A wardrobe the size of a small moon and somebuns managed to gnaw holes in them all!"

"Good." Mr Mick said with more satisfaction.

"I'm scared to take off my shoes!" The Doctor protested, waving his hands about.

"Even better." Mickey sniffed, "You SHOULD be. Just a rabbit. Hmph." Mr Mick turned on his tail and hopped towards the door, stopping in front of Martha, "You keep an eye on him." He looked over his shoulder. "JUST A RABBIT." He grumped again. Hop, foot flick, foot flick, hop.

He exited the TARDIS and stopped to give the blue wood a quick lick. "Sorry about the thumping. That wasn't very nice of me. It's not YOUR fault.." He paused and raised his voice, "THAT YOUR DOCTOR IS A BIG JERK."

"NOT A JERK! Protecting rabbit kind!" Came the reply.

"Foo' Doctor." Mr Mick muttered as he hopped his way home. "Just a rabbit. Really."

Sunday, November 17, 2013

[Bunny Stories] Kleenex Sneezies.

(Hannah and Harrington can be found over at Raspberry Rabbits)

Harrington hopped over to the kleenex box, his ears flopping as he bounced. He grabbed one and with a yank of head, twist of neck, and he had a tissue on its way back to its destination. He but the kleenex on the floor for Hannah to use.
She sneezed into it twice. "I just feel so silly." She said before rumpling it up with her paws. "Getting all sneezy like a human!"

Harrington flopped down beside his mate. "It could be worse. You could be all burpy like a human." He made an option mouth to follow up with a gagging motion, before rolling over, paws in the air in a giggle.

"And the vomitting!" Hannah said, shaking her head. "That's just gross."

"What about all that perfectly good poop they don't reingest?!" Harrington asked, flopping back to his side, leaning against Hannah. "Humans are so weird."

"The fake fur because they can't grow their own," Hannah shook her head, "and the colours they dye it!"

"And they remove what bits they CAN grow."  Harrington said with disgusted amusement.

"Their burrows they thread roots through to destroy all escape routes!"

"And the fuss they make if you try to save them from their own silliness!"

"Oh, and they never eat enough vegetables. How can they see hawks coming if they don't have their vegetables?" Hannah leaned her chin on the floor, "At least Momma is sensible and paints the walls with pretty colours and has lots of things to scritch itchy spots on."


"Even if she doesn't like our help when she's making them." Harrington grumped.

"That's because your idea of helping," She stopped to sneeze twice and shook her head in frustration at being sick, "is to nibble the bits that shouldn't be nibbled."

"If they didn't mean to be nibbled, why does she make them so tasty?" Harrington asked, uppy ear swivelling.

"Uhm." Hannah didn't have a ready answer. "Same reason that they throw the yummy bits of the pumpkin out and make ookey faces on it?"

"That was is as silly as the loud noises they enjoy making." Harrington sighed. "Humans are just a mess. It's a good thing they're around to take care of them!"

They could hear their Momma coming with her clatter of vials and syringes. "Ohh, snack time." Hannah said, sitting up. "At least the medication doesn't taste as bad as the last round."

Their Momma came into the room reciting dose amounts to herself and stopped short. "How did you two get into the kleenex?!" There was a small collection of crumpled up kleenex in the bunclosure.

Two bunnies just periscoped up doing their best to look sweet and innocent.

A sigh, "You two are very silly."

"Takes one to know one," Harrington whispered in an aside to Hannah. She tried not to giggle.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

[Dreamland] Me and an owl in a dream.






One of my dreams last night was of an owl. I was walking through a park, most likely Stanley Park, and I saw movement in the brush under an oak tree. I saw it was an owl. Just what an owl was doing on the ground is anyone's guess, but I decided to take a picture of him. So, I sat on the ground and he meandered over.

Even in a dream I knew this was very un-owl-like behaviour. (It's my blog, I can make up words if I want.) This owl waddled over to me, turned and with his face back towards the tree, huddled up against my leg where I was sitting crosslegged on the ground. I remember thinking "First it's wild rabbits, now it's wild owls." (Scout's rescue of me from rabbit-free life was similar. Silly me thinking she was a wild rabbit!) He sat there so long I called in a conservation officer to come get this owl. I told the owl (who I was calling 'Bert') that no matter what kind of sad eyes he gave me, I wasn't feeding my gerbil to him.

I ended up riding in the bed of a pick-up with this owl because he didn't want me to leave him alone. I thought about why an owl would be so attached to a human, and came to the conclusion that some jerk had bonded with him and ditched him in the woods thinking he'd survive just fine. (Animals learn how to be an animal in their childhood and youth, if no one teaches them, they have no clue as adults.)

The dream ended with me handed over the owl to an owl specialist at a conservation place. I remember telling the story of Boo Boo and Octavia, the two owls at 8 Squadron where my Dad had been stationed in Scotland.

Even in my dreams animals think I'm a giant sucker who'll take care of them! Probably doesn't help that they're right.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

[A Memorial] August 14th, 2013, the world lost a jester.






Andrew Brechin was an amazing man, and many have a hole in their hearts from his passing. One minute it seemed he and I were talking I would absolutely, positively, I swear on a stack of a thousand bibles, make it to his Yuletide event since I didn't make his birthday .. again. The next minute, he was gone. I don't remember WHO told me, or where I found the information on Facebook, but I thought it some sort of sick joke and my immediate thought was "Holy shit, Tillie must be devastated." The next thought was "Holy shit, *I* am devastated." He was a bard, a jester, a friend, a father, a brat, and a role-model. Though, he'd probably have been mock-horrified at being labelled the last.

A story of Andrew Brechin that I posted to my Facebook (so if you read it there, this is a repeat.)

"You play D&D? You should join my Palladium Fantasy group!" Andrew enthused. I was thirteen or fourteen, I'd be gaming with people very much my elders, but I was already quite addicted to gaming. My Mum, not a fan of RPGs or modemmers, let herself be conned by myself and my Dad who agreed to chauffeur me, as it WOULD be social time and get me out and off "that damned computer."

I was pretty scared that first time, walking into a group of people I only vaguely knew. Nick, Renea, Tammy, are still friends because of that gaming group and Andrew. Andrew took me under his wing (as he did many a lost soul) and made sure I had fun. I also got my first ever experience of "dumbfounding the GM"

My character was a canine druid. In Palladium Fantasy that means I could turn into any canine, or ursine, animal I could think of. Most often, that form was a kodiak bear. On this one adventure we were chasing down four elemental mages and I found myself on my own in the lair of the earth mage who had obviously fled. He, however, had left his sentient walking stick behind. I, in fox form, was trying to get information from said stick and said stick was being most uncooperative. Now, one would think I would have the brains to threaten to *chew* on said stick, but no, my barely teenage mind decided to threaten it with piddle. I said something along the lines of how I hadn't seen a bathroom in a long time, and wouldn't it be a shame if I confused a certain walking stick for a tree.

Andrew stared at me. "Did you just threaten to pee on the walking stick?" I reaffirmed that yes, that's what I want to do. He boggled. This was obviously a threat he hadn't considered. I'm not sure it's a threat anyone but a young, slightly off-beat, teen would have consider it. After a long pause he laughed and said the stick didn't believe me, so I went right ahead and did the canine thing of leg lift and release. Surprisingly, the walking stick started to babble every secret the earth mage had. Go fig, who knew urine was the great releaser of truth.

Andrew said later, after the game, "You so have to join my Cyberpunk group." But alas, She Who Makes the Rules (aka, Mum) thought that ONE gaming group was more than enough of a bad influence on me. She was probably right, but Andrew remained a happy, positive, bouncy, incorrigible, influence from day one to day end.

His best advice of all was, "Be yourself. If you're not yourself, who are you?"

He gave the best hugs, and I miss him.




Wednesday, October 30, 2013

[Bunny Stories] Hallowe'en story time with Umbra!

Art by Zaheroux

Umbra took her job as the Hallowe'en bunny very seriously. She'd offered to share with Harrington, but he'd said she told the yearly stories so well.  With the flickering LED candles playings shadows on the wall, Umbra prepared her annual spooky tail time. "Carl Sandburg said that 'The fog comes, on little cat feet. It sits looking, over harbour and city, on silent haunches, and then moves on.' But he was wrong, it doesn't come on cat feet, and when it moves on, it doesn't move alone."

* * *

A long time ago, in a kingdom far away, there was a friendly bunny who lived in a thick wood. He watched the rich nobles of human kind trit trot about, he watched the kindly fae and less kindly fae ride on their grand hunts, he watched animals go about their lives. He did many things well, but the thing he did best was watch. He was a handsome bunny of grey; the grey that was the fog in Aberdeen on a spring morning, of a pure smoke fire, of dusted silver. One morning he was sitting at the top of a hillock, admiring the patterns of the fog, when a horse wandered up to touch noses. The horse was wearing a saddle that's girth had been loosened and had bits of brush hanging from the reigns and catchings.

"Hello," said the friendly bunny.

"Hello," said the horse.

"What are you up to, today?" asked the bunny.

"It's Hallowe'en. Sir Gerric decided he would go hunting witches." The horse shooked her mane in amusement. "He met one, she told him he'd sneeze four hundred and twenty-seven times or till he became more accepting of people. I ditched him around sneeze two fifty when he fell off."

The bunny tilted his head to one side, "Did you just leave him, then? The Bear is up and about and is rather grumpy."

"I'll wander home, he'll catch up." The horse stretched, turning to look towards the manor home of the local lord, "Or not. He's not a very nice man."

The bunny was rather concerned as the horse turned and meandered her way back towards her stable. The bunny decided he better investigate.

It didn't take him very long to find the sneezing man. His eyes were watery, the way he clutched his chest said it was aching, and every time he got to his feet, he'd sneeze and come back off balance. The bunny hopped up, "Are you alright, Sir?"

"No, I'm not," Sneeze, "alright." Sneeze, sneeze. "A witch cursed me and I've lost count." Sneeze.

The bunny thought he looked very apologetic and turned to wiggle his tail in the knight's direction, cancelling the witches magic.

The man lay panting on his side for several minutes, "I thought I was going to die." he moaned.

The bunny nodded with sympathy and hopped off to come back with a large leaf with water in it. He held it for the knight to drink. He drained the liquid dry before he suddenly turned and grabbed at the rabbit. The Bunny wasn't stupid, he watched humans, he knew what the man had wanted to do. He turned tail and ran off into the foggy afternoon. He was a bit surprised how fast the knight got to his feet to give chase. You'd think a man who had been sneezing his fool head off would be a bit more understanding and grateful!

Turned about in the fog, running scared from a rude and hungry human, Bunny lost his footing and fell off a hill, down into the deep, deep, fog.

It was a year later when Sir Gerric went out on his yearly witch hunt. He had to ride a bit further every year as the witches got wise to him and went further and further from his home. This year he brought dogs to help him along with his long suffering squire. The boy was left to jog along at the horse's flank while the dogs ranged every which way in the fog barking directions, ideas and excitement.

The horse stopped and no amount of bellowing got her to move again. She humped her back in warning when the knight started to apply his spurs. He looked over the horse's ears to see the bunny sitting on his hind legs in his path.

"Hello Mr Knight." said the bunny.

"uh." The knight managed. There was something not right about the bunny.

"I helped you and you tried to harm me. That wasn't very nice." The bunny said. "I spent a year travelling the world of fog and I learnt a few things. Do you know what the most important thing I learned is?" The bunny tilted his head to one side to look up at the knight.

"Uh, no." The knight said, wondering why he seemed unable to move. His horse could move, she was twitching her tail. He couldn't even hear his dogs; those dogs would have taken care of the uppity rabbit.

The bunny hopped closer. "I learned that you should always say thank you. I learned that you should never harm those that help you. I learned that if you're nice to people, they're nice to you." The bunny stopped underneath the stirrup, standing up on hind legs as the fog swirled after him. "And we all decided it's a lesson you need to learn too." There was a flicker of red, deep within the grey bunny's eyes.

The fog was swirling up the horse's legs now and she had enough. She bucked him off, leaving him to fall into the fog like a sack of potatoes. She shook her head several times before rearing up to sheer the air with her front hooves. Finally settling to all fours she gave a full body shake and ran off. The bunny watched the display passively before turning back to the knight who was staring at him with wide, wild, eyes.  "You will do good things for people until someone doesn't say thank you. Only then will they take your place, riding the fog." The bunny groomed a forepaw as the fog swirled around the knight, completely covering him until he disappeared.

The fog withdrew, leaving the bunny alone in the grove, water droplets glistening everywhere before he turned to go see how his warren had faired in his absence.

* * *

Umbra put down her front paws she'd been using to help accentuate the story. "And that is why you always, always, say thank you! Especially if its foggy!"



Tuesday, October 29, 2013

[Cat Update] Little Orphan Annie.



For those that aren't following / friends with me on Facebook may have missed the tail of Little Orphan Annie.

On October 21st, I went out to get food and heard a very loud meowling. A cat in obvious distress. We have several toms who lurk in the trailer park behind us, I figured one had gotten in a fight and didn't come out so well at the other side. Searching around, I find a tiny grey cat under my car meowling. After some negotiation and employment of crutch, I got a very sore knee and one rack of bones with a fur coat. I could feel her individual ribs through her fur. As soon as I held her, she stopped meowing. I took her upstairs, got her settled in the laundry room and went off to Superstore to get cat supplies.

I kept checking on her every so often, but other than turning in spot, she showed no interest in food and barely touched the water. By the blood on the towel, I knew she was bleeding from *somewhere* but I couldn't tell where. In the morning I decided I was way out of my depth and phoned the rescue I volunteer at. Ena, our head goddess, said to bring her in. Nicknamed Little Orphan Annie, she was taken to the vet who works with the rescue. She was found to be over 10 years old, possible toxic poisoning from the flea collar she had on, sores all over her mouth and malnutrition in the worst way. The vet wasn't optimistic but they give it a good go.

They ended up having to put her to sleep. Her kidneys and liver were nonfunctional. They'd put her on IV, given her antibiotics, tried to force feed her, all the fun stuff, she was just too far gone. She at least passed in warmth, surrounded by loving people.  Poor wee thing.

As always, all that stuff costs money, so if you can, please support them.



Tuesday, October 22, 2013

[Hobbit/PotC Crossover] Another for Cap'n Ren. :)



The two males were sitting in a barely lit tavern. One had a foot sprawled across the table, tilting his chair back and enjoying the rather off colour singing of some of the other man's shipmates. The other man, was trying to ignore his two nephews and the words they were singing. The songs were about things no decent dwarf should know about; besides, who would want to do that in a wash barrel anyway?

"I don't understand women." The dwarf grumped. "Human, dwarven, even.." a slight growl, "elven."

"Women ain't nuthin' but trouble." his inebriated companion agreed, idly twirling a finger around his moustache.

"I try to take a bath. A maid comes in saying she's bringing me towels. She has no towels. The drying clothes were on the stool already!" He thumped a fist on the table, an action a few heads turned to see but realizing it wasn't the start of a fight, they went back to ignoring anything outside their circle. A splash of beer escaped the tankard. "Waste of good beer, that." was the observation from the other side. "Can a dwarf not take a bath in peace?!"

"I don't know about dwarves, but I certainly hope men can't." He sat up a bit, looking around, "Now, which maid did you say that was?"

He got a flat glare. "It would be hardly honourable to reveal such information."

"I'm a pirate, mate. I don't much care about honourable." A swig of rum, "Just give me an open port, a good breeze, and rum to drink and I'm a happy man. I don't much care how any of those got to my life, only that they're here to stay." He looked back at the glowering dwarf, "Look, chum, you're tryin' to figure out what's makin' the girls go squeel, aye?"

"Yes." was the surly response.

"Haven't a fricken' clue. I just enjoy it when it happens." Before the dwarf could offer further feedback, the pirate rocked his chair forward, swinging his leg off the table and onto the mucky floor. The inhabitants of the drunk goose were happy for the poor lighting, it meant they never saw the floor and what was on it. "Look.. uh.." He paused, "What'dya say your name was?"

"I didn't." came the growl, and then he sighed and softened. "Thorin. Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King Under the Mountain."

"King?" There was a gleam and extra interest for a moment, "And why are you not kinging there then?"

"It's halls are haunted and tortured by a dragon." Thorin replied, the glower returning to his features.

"Oh. Right. Dragon. I have a personal policy to never pick fights with dragons. Of course, I had a personal policy never to pick fights with kraken either, and that wasn't terribly respected." The pirate stopped, finger on chin. "Where was I? Oh, right, and I, Thorin mouthful and well titled, am Jack. Captain Jack Sparrow, he who sales the Black Pearl, beauty of the seas."

"The pirate." Thorin said, raised eyebrow.

Jack raised a tankard in salute, "We all gotta make a livin', savvy?"

Thorin ground his teeth but refrained from comment and then suddenly smiled, "One might call you .. a pirate king?"

Jack's eyes narrowed, "That was just cold, mate."

"One might thinks, a pirate who gives up a chance at a throne for the sake of a girl, isn't as much of a .. what's the human term? .. coldhearted, selfish, rotten bastard, as he claims to be?" There was a gleam of gold as Thorin gave one of his rare grins.

"Oh.. shutup." Jack replied, taking another swig of rum, pausing with the bottle half back to the table and then taking a sequel to keep it company. He sighed, taking his turn to thump the table. He did it with much less force than his companion. "Speaking of your women problems, 'cause I sure as becalmed seas don't want to be talkin' about mine.. The problem is, y'see, you look miserable. Y'look like a good froggin' could cheer ya right up, an' girls like to be fixin' things that are broken. The faster ye run, the faster they'll chase." He sighed and looked at his nearly empty bottle, "I know - I've left a few ports with the skirts in pursuit." He put on a fake falsetto, "Y'said ye'd marry me Jack. Y'said I could join ye on yer ship, Jack. Y'said ye had news of me father, Jack. Y'said.." He roled his eyes. "Believe anything they will and.." he trailed off. "Er, what were we talkin' about then?"

"Your luck with the fairer sex." Thorin said looking a bit disgusted.

"You travel with a hobbit!" Jack blurted.

"What's that got to do with it?!" Thorin scowled back.

"Well, absolutely-bloody-nothing, does it? But I was on the losin' side of the conversation an' I am not too fond of losin', savvy?"

"Except when you mean to lose." Thorin said drolly.

"Ah!" Jack held up a finger, "but then I'm not losing, I'm winning, right?"

Thorin gave him a hairy eyed look, "If that's what you believe."

"I believe all sorts of things. I believe that you should just be tellin' your lady followers yer a King returning to his throne an' he can't be marryin' or carryin' on with any lady till his throne is his once more and all that."

"That would work?" The dwarven royal looked rather cynical.

"IYou'd be surprised what'll work. That one works well .. well, for the marryin' bit, never tried it for the carryin' on, y'mind.. I've been tryin' for the opposite. But!" He sat up straight, tossing hair, "What've you got to lose but a night's sleep?"

"They're tall. A hairless. And .. " He shuddered, "Practically elven in dimension."

"You've been lookin' at all the wrong ladies. Stop lookin' at the starved an' look at the healthy!" Jack stopped and blinked, "Hairless?"

"A good woman has sideburns for a start!"

"Uh.. right, mate." Jack looked doubtful on that score, but with a fortification of rum, "Look, take the Captain of the Rumrabbit.. well, y'better not, 'cause she's mine to not be carryin' on with, so you better not be not carryin' on with her behind my back or in front of my front, savvy?"

Thorin looked pained, perhaps because he did understand that shpiel of lack of logic and double and triple negatives. "Yes."

"Right. She's your height, blonde, curvy in the most curvy of curvy waves.. er, ways, and .. " Jack trailed off, "What were we talkin' about?"

"Captain of the Rumrabbit," Thorin answered with remarkable patience.

"Right, yes. Great ship that. Never manage to steal it. Damn rabbits are too quick and too smart."

"Are they Rhosgobel rabbits?" Thorin asked dryly.

"They're hell rabbits, that's what they are. Drink me rum, chew holes in me ship, steal me hat, and won't even let me woo their cap'n' without bathing first. And SHE doesn't visit ME in the bath!" Jack took a final swig and carefully put the bottle down. "I think I'm going to pass out now." He said quite clearly right before his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell off his chair sideways.

Thorin sighed. His nephews came over, seeing their uncle's drinking partner out drunk. "A rope and a banana?" Thorin asked with a raised eyebrow.

Fili grinned, Kili blushed.

Thorin sighed. "May the scow be fixed by morning."

He'd had his lifetime's fill of humans.

Monday, October 21, 2013

[Fictional Story] The Cherished Heart

I'm feeling a bit ghoulish today -- but that's okay, it's almost Hallowe'en.

___________________________________________________________________________

It was getting harder to breath every day. It felt like someone was sitting on my chest and no amount of coughing could relieve the pressure. I knew what I looked like; scrawny, stringy hair, smelling faintly of body owner, medicines and sweat. "It shouldn't be long now," one of my visitors had said, as if it was supposed to be a comfort. I suppose, in a way, it was. We'll put down our dogs when they have no hope of recovery, why is it such a sin to do the same for humans? Because the bible said its bad?

"I think I want to be made into a gem." I said, seemingly out of the blue. There was more wheeze in my voice than I liked.

"What?" My husband said brilliantly. I loved him, but even after eighteen years I wished he'd pay attention when I was talking. I realize that I flitted from subject to subject, that my mind would make lateral skips and jumps, but he could at least try instead of making me endlessly repeat myself and explain things four hundred times.

"A gem, when I die." I extrapolated. I couldn't talk much, it started to hurt after a while. "I want to be made into a heart shaped ruby or something like it."

"That'd be awfully expensive, if its even possible." He said, a frown on his square face. When we'd married he'd have lovely, thick, auburn hair that tended to be shaggy due to his never remembering to get his hair cut. Sometimes I think he married me just so he'd have someone to remind him of things.

I wordless turned my netbook to face him, showing the "life gems" page. The title and the words were hokey, but I very much liked the idea.

"That'd be awfully expensive," he repeated, still frowning.

"It's my money isn't it?" I would have snapped it if I'd had enough breath, but I had to settle for a sarcastic rasp. "Its about as much as a burial. Cremate me, get me made into a ruby."

He looked even unhappier. It occurred to me he didn't want to talk about my death, but really, what else was left to talk about?

He sighed, running his hand through thinning, untidy, mop that was more butter white than red these days. "And what do I do with it?"

"Give it to your next wife. Hold a raffle, whatever you want. What would you do with my ashes other wise? Dump them in the ocean to choke the fish?" Apparently, I wasn't much happier talking about my death but why did he always have to make everything so difficult?

His mouth opened and then closed. He blinked at me several times. "I would think, a ring with bits of my dead wife would be a bit ghoulish."

He had a point. I gave a half-snort and smiled, "Then get married on Hallowe'en," I suggested, humour restored.

He let out a bark of laughter and squeezed the hand he'd been holding. "A raffle, though." He looked thoughtful, eyes tracking slightly as they followed his thoughts. "We could hold a raffle to raise money for the children's oncology ward. They can probably never have enough Mutts books or XBoxes. It would be up to the winner what they want to do with it, make it a necklace, a ring.."

I felt love for him all over again, and it was if it was twenty years ago when we'd met. I'd been leaving the supermarket, he'd been entering and walked straight into me as he'd been talking into one of those old brick cell phones. My milk had splashed and sprayed, the eggs splattered, and the bread became a mangled mess. He'd dropped his phone (It wasn't harmed, but then, it could probably have been driven over and not get a scratch.) and started babbling apologies about how he'd pay for my groceries, or we could go buy more or all sorts of things. I'd just looked at this rather handsome, clumsy, bumbling, babbling man and thought "I could marry him." It was a silly thought, but there it was. I'd told him forget the groceries other than to help me clean up the mess, and to join me for lunch. We'd had lunch that turned into dinner that turned into a walk around the lake.

"And maybe I'd bring them luck and happiness?" I said with the smile, trying to ignore my body's insistence that I really needed to cough. I told it, mentally, that I really didn't so shut up and stop being so high maintenance.

"Or good health," he said with a sigh.

"I think that's covered under luck." I said, squeezing his hand.

And the thought of being kept close and loved for next to eternity warmed me and made me smile.

Sunday, October 20, 2013

[Almost on topic] Three things three times.


The object of this one was "List three things, three times. Any three things." with an example such as the following.

Three Things I won't live without.

- Politics. Its my chief source of entertainment, and I find I'm quite good at reading and predicting political situations and people.
- Storytelling. Even if I'm not writing them down, there's always stories forming in my head.
- Gaming. RPGs, board games, video games, whatever flavour you choose, I enjoy them. Friendly competition or cooperation however, I won't do serious consequence gaming!

Three kinds of pets I've owned.


- Dog
- Cats
- Bunnies.

Three places I've been employed.

- Revenue Canada. (I have no idea what they call themselves this year.)
- Buy & Sell Newspaper
- Vancouver Family Services.

I'm not tagging anyone in particular.. However, I am petting and snuggly all my blog bunnies who'll let me. :)

Friday, October 4, 2013

[Grump] Freaking Blogger..






For whatever reason, Blogger wasn't updating about half of the blogs I follow on my RSS feeder. Today it finally kicked in and I got about 400 posts that I hadn't seen. So, I'm slowly catching up.

Do we have any word on Bells from Potentially Nervous?

Saturday, September 28, 2013

[Gerbilly Posting] State of the Freddie. No dress.


Freddie is about two and a half years old now, if I assume he was six weeks when I got him. Neither he nor Fergie grew any, so anyone's guess is as good as mine on age. Gerbils typically live up to four years, but Freddie is starting to show signs of age. He is drinking more, sleeping more, running around less, and doesn't always burrow to sleep. I also think he's busy trying to find a mate since he STINKS to high heaven at the moment! (Okay, okay, its just musk-scent, but still.. male stink in my apartment! Eww..)

He's still cheerful, still curious, and still willing to take a sunflower seed from my finger and give me a lick of thanks. (He'll even crawl into my hand for a pumpkin seed, but I only have those when I raid my Dad's stash.) He's about 60 in human years, so slowing down a little is perfectly natural. I keep meaning to stop by Sardis Park and pick up some willow for him to chew on - the ASA in it is good for him and might help if he has some arthritis. On cold/damp morning he's less destructive/enthusiastic and than on dry ones.

Of course, gerbils as desert mice, so he's probably a bit confused by this rain forest existence anyway.

But, over all, still perfectly able and willing to pester his bunny friends. :)

Friday, September 13, 2013

[Silly Stories] A Valkyrie in London.

The writing challenge today was given as "Write a story about Valkyries and Football." With a friend going on about West Ham lately, I choose the other sport called 'football.'



Geirrönul looked like what she was; a Valkyrie. She stood at six feet, she had long blonde hair, a build that said she could toss a caber and the man attached to it, armour from neck to knee and a very large spear. What was rather out of place about her was more than she was standing on a street corner in London. She frowned as she looked about, having no idea why she would have been sent here and now. What need anyone possibly have of her in this dreary place?  Spotting a crowd of the fishfinger lovers, she headed that way, ignoring the bleats, blasts, and profanity of taxi cab, bus, lorry and car drivers as she crossed the street without considering traffic. She was immortal, what was the worst they could do? 

At one catcall she stopped and turned with a raised eyebrow as she walked back to the lorry driver that had been shaking his fist. He stopped when he saw her expression and started madly trying to wind up the window. She walked back around him and put a meaty hand on the top of the glass and stopped its upward progress. It was only a few inches from closed, but pressure had the electronics protest as she forced the window back down. The driver started babbling that he didn't want any trouble and it was just work and road frustration and he was right sorry and all that. Geirrönul leaned forward so her face was in the vehicle. "Your mother would be disappointed in you. She would be more disappointed if I had been forced to fillet you for your disrespect. Perhaps you should work on your manners?"  Even with them both having learned English as a second language, he understood and paled. Several yes ma'ams, sorry ma'ams, and she released the vehicle and strode back towards the small crowd of people.

The small gaggle of policemen had been debating to see if they needed to save the driver from the crazy woman started to debate if they were relieved that she was coming their way. One of the braver footmen stood in her way. "Miss, might I ask you what your business here is?"  One of the detectives wandered over to stand behind him.

"I was summoned to escort a warrior." She said. Wasn't it obvious? Although what a believer was doing in this time and place was a mystery, she had a duty to perform. No being who reeked of cabbage, tea and curry was going to deter her. Perhaps his brain could work on thinking if he ate better, a sensible diet of meat and mead would surely fix him.

"Of course you are." The policeman said with a sigh. "If you'd like to come this way?" He asked, gesturing towards the side.

Having had a chance to examine the situation, a dead body, a man being restrained, a soul pacing beside the dead body, Geirrönul needed no assistance.  She's also just about run out of patience with this whole place. "That will not be necessary." she told him and pushed past.

"Now see here!" The policeman bellowed and grabbed her arm. Patience lost, she turned to look down at him, and he suddenly clutched his throat and fell to the ground. Satisfied the block between her and her duty was nullified, she continued forward. The detective's eyes widened and he started to take a step towards her but changed his mind and instead went to investigate the now second corpse.

She ignored the "What was that for?! Are you bloody crazy?!" coming from the newly released soul. His own deity or deities could take care of him, he was no longer her problem. She also ignored several more police and detectives who decided she needed restraint. The bullets were irritating for all that they didn't damage her. A wave of a hand and they were released to have conversations with their own gods about the wisdom of interfering with a Valkyrie.

Geirrönul stopped in-front of the first soul. "What happened?"

"That psycho! He started up about his tickets! They were counterfeit --"

"They were bloody not!" interrupted one of the newest souls to crowd the area.

"They were too! Even still, you should have just let me scan them!" The gateman started to argue with the ticketholder.

"Shut up." Geirrönul ordered the second soul. She didn't feel like arguing with an idiot who didn't even belong to her pantheon. "And?" she said to the first soul.

"He pulls out a gun! He pulled out a frelling gun! And he shot me! He started to go through the gate but he tripped over me! Not enough he kills me, but he has to trip over me too?! There I am, bleeding to death, and that jak falls on me! My coworkers are diving every each way and then an off duty shows up .. and I am milling around waiting for something to happen when you showed up. Why're you here anyway?"

Geirrönul raised an eyebrow, "Are you questioning me?" She didn't wait for an answer, "And how are you a warrior?"

"You ever stand ticket taker for a football match?!" He spluttered.

Her cheek twitched. The idea people had of warriors in this day and age. They considered her a warrior because she could kill with touch, look or weapon; that wasn't a warrior at all. "And you are Odin's?"

"I guess? I mean, I started swearing by him as a joke at first.."

She sighed. "Fine, let's go."

"Go? You're a Valkyrie right? But where's your horse?" The soul complained as she gathered him into her power and keeping.

"You think I would bring a horse into this pollution?" She asked with disgust. "Walking won't kill you."

"Ha. Ha." The soul muttered, following in her wake.

The lone surviving human on scene, the detective who had been wise enough not to interfere, crossed himself as he looked at the pile of bodies. He was having trouble believing it was all because of a football ticket and an idiot's idea of religion. 

The Mirror just reported, "Slaughter at Upton Park, no news here."

Sunday, September 8, 2013

[Bunny Silliness] Speedy's having a pirate party!


"Now Mick, remember what happened the last time you had rum.."
"I played bury the gerbil in the sand?"

Sunday, September 1, 2013

[Bunny Opinion] Writing songs, with help from Maddy.


To the tune of "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias

Let me be your bunny.

Would you hop,
If I asked you to hop?
Would you nom
And never share?
Would you flick
If you saw me flicking?
Would be my humom tonight?

"What is this MUSH?!" A small bunny voice asked from beside my elbow. I hadn't even seen Maddy's arrival. Her nose twitched a mile a minute at her disgust. "That's not a good bunny song AT ALL!"

"Er. Are you supposed to be using the portal yet?" She seemed rather lively for a bunny who had been hanging on by her ears so recently.

"I didn't ask." She replied distractedly. "Surely you can do better!"

"Than ask?" I asked, confused.

"NO! At the song." She flounced her head, ears bopping. "Humans, can't keep your mind on any one thing for five seconds. I don't know why we put up with you. I guess it's 'cause you're cute or something."

"Or the opposable thumbs." I couldn't help but interject. She was leaning over my laptop now, shoving my hands aside, obviously wanting to do her own typing.

"Those are nice, but not necessary." She replied distractedly. "Look, here's a good song.." She started bouncing around the keyboard as she put in her opinion.

Back in black
I hit the sack
It's been too long I'm glad to be back
Yes I'm, let loose
From the noose
That's kept me hanging around
I keep looking at the sky
'Cause it's gettin' me high
Forget the hearse 'cause I'll never die
I got nine lives
Cats eyes
Usin' every one of them and running wild
'Cause I'm back
Yes, I'm back
Well, I'm back
Yes, I'm back
Well, I'm back, back
(Well) I'm back in black
Yes, I'm back in black

"Uhm." I managed. "That's just AC/DC's "Back in Black"" I couldn't help but pointing out.

"Well, its a good song!" Maddy defended. "Not like that crap you were writing. Stuff and nonsense." She sniffed.

"You've been hanging around Speedy too much, you're starting to talk English." I tentatively scritched her nose.

"I speak bunny, you just hear English. Stupid human." At least she wasn't calling me an 'ape' yet. "Oh, little to the left." I obediantly scritched to the left.

She suddenly shook her head, "That's enough. I'm gonna go visit Buttercup'n'Jensen." She sneezed. "Write something better!" she ordered before hopping off my couch and hopping to the closet portal.

I stared at the blank screen for several minutes until inspiration struck..

Something better.
 

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Saturday, August 17, 2013

[Bunny Silliness] With Apologies to Cyndi Lauper, Girls just Wanna have Buns!

Karoke - Girls just wanna have buns!

Girls just Wanna have Buns!

I got up, with the morning light,
My rabbit says "You're gonna feed me now, right?"
Oh bunny dear,
The foods on the way,
And girls 
just gotta have buns
Oh girls, 
just gotta have buns!

The rabbits binky in the middle of the night,
A voice yells "I blame this noise on my wife!"
Oh hubby dear,
They're just having fun,
And girls,
Just gotta have buns,
Oh girls,
Just gotta have buns!

When the working day is done,
This girl's
just gotta see her buns,
Oh girls,
just gotta have buns!

Girls,
They want,
Wanna have buns,
Girls, 
Wanna have

Some jerks dump a beautiful bun,
And leave her to hide away from the cruel world
I wanna save her from the hot hotsun,
And girls,
Just gotta have buns,
Oh girls,
Just gotta have buns!

They just wanna
They just wanna
They just wanna
(oh)
They just wanna
(Girls just wanna have bnuns)
Oh

Girls just wanna have bu-uns
They just wanna,
They just wanna,
They just wanna,
They just wanna
(Oh..)
They just wanna,
(They just wanna have buns..)
Girls, just wanna have bu-uns!

When the working day is done,
This girl's
just gotta see her buns,
Oh girls,
just gotta have buns!


They just wanna
They just wanna
They just wanna
They just wanna have buns

Girls just wanna have bu-uns,
They just wanna,
They just wanna..
They just wanna,
They just wanna..
(Have buns)

They just wanna
(Girls just wanna have buns)
They just wanna,
Oh girls,
(Wanna have buns)
Girls just wanna have bu-uns,

When the working day is done,
This girl's
just gotta see her buns,
Oh girls,
just gotta have buns!

They just wanna,
They just wanna..
(Oh, girls..)
They just wanna,
(Have buns)
Oh girls..
Girls just wanna have bu-uns..

They just wanna, 
They just wanna..
They the working day is done..

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

[Story Start] .. and probably ending. ;)

(Random Picture - St. John's, Quincy, Ill.)

Desiree sat down heavily on the bench and looked up at the crystal clear blue sky. "You know, for a guy who gives second chances, you sure stack the deck." She let out a sigh.

"Well, he gives chances, not hand crafted answers on silver platters." A male voice said.

Desiree startled, turning to find herself a foot and a half from a priest, leaning on the back of the bench. She looked past his shoulder to the church beyond. She hadn't even realized where she was, but it made sense, she supposed.  "Oh don't quote that free will crap at me." She'd started to use profanity, but somehow she just couldn't bring herself to swear to or at a priest.

He grinned a friendly dog grin. Shaggy brown hair in desperate need of a cut, hazel eyes twinkling with mischief, and clothes that didn't quite fit right. Looked like a typical "good priest" to Desiree's experience. "I wouldn't dream of it." He looked over his shoulder to where she'd glanced, "You're one of the Fallen, aren't you?"

"Yeeup." She was supposed to look like a human. God's brilliant plan, she supposed. They'd all been offered a chance to prove they weren't evil - here you go, reborn as a human; give it a go. The problem was, they were brought back onto the material plane as adults with no job experience, no ID, no pieces of paper that said you knew how to spell your own name. Any surprise so many of them had already turned to crime? Their return was no secret, God had his ways of getting the message out to those who listened rather than just making shit up in his name, but it was hardly flashing in time square either.

"Had a feeling." The Priest said. "I'm Father Daniel."

She sighed. "Desiree."

"Well, I'd say by that envelope and those tired feet you've been out looking for a job. I'd also say by the rather tired expression and questioning His sanity and unfairness of it all, you're not having much luck."

She managed not to interject a 'Duh!'

"I can offer you a job. The pay's lousy, the coffee is worse. However, it will give you a piece of paper and we can work on getting you proper ID from the non-believers." He gave her a sympathetic look, "No one ever said being good was easy."

She stood up, "I'll take the job." Not like she had a lot of options. Besides, it wasn't like she couldn't still keep looking, right? "Just don't give me that shpiel about 'The Earth owes you nothing, it was here first.'"

His grin widened into true amusement, "Wouldn't dream about doing that either."

She was starting to wonder what he DID dream of. He was one of THOSE priests, he probably dreamed of endless rosaries and feeding the poor.

"How about the bit about 'More things under heaven and earth?'" He asked with entirely too much feigned innocence. "Or better the demon you know than.."

She sighed. She was already starting to look forward to this 'die of old age' thing.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

[Bunny Pictures] Independence Day, Take Two :)



So, I received a memo from Mr Mick that I could do better. We all know the bunny is never wrong, so have Mr Mick's Independence Day Take Two. Hopefully this passes his majesty's view of "better" ;)

(His view may have actually been my view when I had another look at the original one I did. :) )

[Bunny Pics] Hoppy Fourth of July!

Hoppy Fourth of July to my American Friends

And Cabana Boy was being a smart ass.. That I should do a Mick graphic for Independence Day.. ;)

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

[Bunny Stories] ROAD TRIP!



   


Mr Mick tested the air, standing up on his hind feet sniffing. He could hear two of the men folk snoring their fool heads off, but then he was pretty sure the International Space Station could hear the snoring. His Humom had FINALLY gone to bed. He was starting to think he was going to have to operate a computer interuptus with teeth and a cord. Seriously, didn't humans realize buns had important things to do that they weren't meant to know about? He paused at that thought, he wasn't quite sure that made sense. Fortunately, he had better things to do.

He hopped over to the computer and whipped out a quick group message to Bun-IM and went into the kitchen. He shoved a chair over to the counter to hop onto. He *could* make the counter in one hop, but why strain himself? From the counter it was only a slight scramble and leap to grab the keys from the peg board and land, mostly gracefully, on his feet. It occurred to him after that he probably could have used the chair and stretched up to grab the keys. He wouldn't tell Umbra about that, she'd make fun of him for a week! Keys in mouth, he shoved the chair back under the table and hopped back to the closet.

Jensen was the first to arrive, muttering under his breath about does with attitude and bossy boots who try to steal all the salad and a bunch of other stuff Mick tuned out. He was a bachelor for a reason! Foo' women. "Shoved Buttercup under her nose and she won't notice I'm gone for hours." He gave a good body shake, white fluff disengaging and floating every which way; Mick wasn't worried, his Mom could probably find purple bunny fur and not be too surprised. "Seriously, why does she want me to live with such a nurfleherp?" He sat down with a grump, "Humans!"

Mick kept his amusement to himself, he liked Jensen and sympathized but he was also darn glad it wasn't him!

Speedy didn't take long to arrive, a happy little bounce in his step. "Mums getting so much better at reading sad looks at the garden. She'll be puttering around all day. I have hours!" He looked at Mick, "So what're we up to?"

"We, are going to go for a drive!"

Jensen bolted upright from his lounge, "I heard about your trip with Weasley! NO!" He caught himself before he thumped. "I want to live!"

Mick shook his head and snorted in disgust, "Foo. No, we're takin' Moms Beast. Its got air conditioning!" The three lagomorphs all agreed that was the most important thing in a car.

"Not to be a party pooper," Speedy said as they hopped to the front door, "But, how will you steer *and* reach the peddles?"

"Oh! I had Hannah whip up some controls for me. The X-BOX controller doesn't just work on TV cars anymore!" He paused as he wiggled the door open, "Though, The Boy might miss his controller." The tan lop somehow didn't seem too bothered about this.

With bunny giggles and hops the three managed to get into the large vehicle and the controller hooked up. "Shoulda asked for instructions." Mick muttered at one point. Sure, Hannah had given him very precise instructions, but he hadn't really been listening.

"You'd just eat them." Jensen said, poking Mick's belly.

"Hay! You make it to six without a little extra fluff! Hmph." Happy things were all set up, he scrambled up onto the dash board and directed Jensen and Speedy into fixing the mirrors for him. He didn't think his humom would be real thrilled if he backed into a street lamp.

He released the parking brake and put the CUV into gear, letting it coast down the drive. He quickly had to mentally remap the buttons - the brake was actually the gas! Fortunately, with The Beast not on yet, nothing too terrible happened. Well, Speedy and Jensen both questioned his driving ability, be he reassured him them that he'd been practising on Mario Kart and it was fine!

He got The Beast onto the street, started the engine, and got them turned around and headed down the road. All three rabbits practically binkying in glee. Five minutes passed as they discussed which open-late fast food places had the best salads, when Speedy spoke up, "Uh, not to spoil the party, but where exactly are we going?"

Mick blinked. "I dunno!" He'd thought of all the preplanning stuff, he provided the vehicle, surely someone else could come up with the destination!



Monday, July 1, 2013

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

[A chance to win!] Bunnies, Crafts and Scots, oh my!


Annette over at The Leveret's Nest is having a fantastic contest. Now, part of the entry is you tell your rabbit about it. Unfortunately, I don't have a rabbit in my home and I think Jade gets first telling to my furry godson Mickey. :)

So instead, I sat my lifesize Stitch plushy down on the futon and told him about it. He looked like he was going to gnaw on the futon, so I instead turned to Freddie Gerbil and told HIM about it. He asked if Annette makes any gerbily creations instead of all those stinkin' rabbits.  I said she probably does have mice, they're cousins to gerbils, isn't that close enough? (Gerbils are really, just desert mice.)

Freddie seemed unimpressed. He'll be even less impressed when he learns I've sent oats to Wesley in bribe.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

[Bunny Influence] A strange thing happened to my calendar..


The buff coloured lop dashed out of the closet and down the hall, taking a sharp turn into his friend's room. He dived into Jensen's hidey and said, quite sternly, "If anyone asks, I was here all afternoon!"

So, a strange thing happened today..

I have my bunny calendar up in my bedroom so I woke up all month to Micks's handsome, fuzzy, face. When I woke up this morning I realized it was the last time I'd see him for a whole year. I did contemplate just leaving it at May, but figured then I'd just confuse myself. I contemplated taking Mick's picture out and putting it in a frame. I flipped the month and decided I would go drink tea.

This evening when I was putting away my laundry I noticed December was lying on the ground. I looked at it funny, picked it up, put it on my bookshelf to deal with later and went back to laundry. The next time I looked, September was also on the ground. Wondering what was going on, I picked up September (through November, as it turned out) and turned the calendar to see what was going on. That's when everything but Mickey's picture (and those before it) fell off the wall and at my feet.

I picked everything up, but I couldn't find the page that was May's Days on the front, the June bunny on the back. No HUGE loss, I supposed, I'd get to see Mickey for an extra 30 days. So I fixed the calendar, put it back up the wall, turned around and there was the June bunny sitting half under my bed, pretty darn visible. I looked back at the calendar, but Picture Mickey was giving his best, most innocent, look.

I'm sure if questioned he'd claim no involvement.