On behalf of Happy, I am appalled at any mention of bunny swapping. (Why are bunnies being swapped anyway? Is this merely bunny trading or something more nefarious?)
By “merely” I am not suggesting that trading a perfectly good bunny is a good thing. Bunnies have feelings, too. How would you FA reader feel if you were unceremoniously traded to the Garfield page?
Please don’t trade me. I have pretty feet. And I can cook a mean pot of spaghetti sauce. (I cannot; however, cook with my feet, which is probably a good thing).
Are we supposed to vote somebody off the Frog Applause island? Or is this a death lottery in which the loser is stoned to death in order to control population growth.
Does Teresa bear a secret grudge against Happy, Happy, Happy!!!? Or is today’s collage instead meant as a message of support in the never-ending struggle against those who might harm bunnies? And what’s with the electric flowers? That sure does discourage sniffing them!
By this time, I had become so incensed that the lines indicating fragrance from my flower centerpiece had become jagged bolts of un-containable energy. My least sound was terrifying thunder, and my mildest gesture was equal to the jaws of Cerberus closing about your head and shoulders to sever your upper body from the lower in one Hades-inspired bite.So I took a break from writing down my feelings to have a soothing cup of chamomile tea. Sure, it began as a cup of Raging, Boiling, Chamomile Death, but after a while things settled down a bit. And the honey was a nice touch, too.
So then I was puzzled for a moment at the rage contained within this spare form. But then it became clear. Were it any greater, the rage would run out of control and be too much to contain. Were it lesser, then the rage could never take hold at all, and it would be cold and lifeless without the rage of some other to empower it. This was right. This was the boiling, seething rage I needed to steep the chamomile and draw out its inner spirit, that I might find comfort in its despair.
painedsmile over 8 years ago
On behalf of Happy, I am appalled at any mention of bunny swapping. (Why are bunnies being swapped anyway? Is this merely bunny trading or something more nefarious?)
painedsmile over 8 years ago
By “merely” I am not suggesting that trading a perfectly good bunny is a good thing. Bunnies have feelings, too. How would you FA reader feel if you were unceremoniously traded to the Garfield page?
*Space Madness at The Station* over 8 years ago
Bunny is in style, knew a neighbor girl growing up who was oldest of the siblings and her name was Bunny Hunt.
prettyfeet over 8 years ago
Please don’t trade me. I have pretty feet. And I can cook a mean pot of spaghetti sauce. (I cannot; however, cook with my feet, which is probably a good thing).
haikumiko over 8 years ago
Are we supposed to vote somebody off the Frog Applause island? Or is this a death lottery in which the loser is stoned to death in order to control population growth.
*Space Madness at The Station* over 8 years ago
In the words of Daffy Duck, “That’s Despicable”, Dogsniff.
Brass Orchid Premium Member over 8 years ago
Bunny swapping?That’s worse than cat juggling!
Brass Orchid Premium Member over 8 years ago
She had a sister named Cecelia who when by Cee.“By this time, my lungs were aching for air.”
Sisyphos over 8 years ago
Does Teresa bear a secret grudge against Happy, Happy, Happy!!!? Or is today’s collage instead meant as a message of support in the never-ending struggle against those who might harm bunnies? And what’s with the electric flowers? That sure does discourage sniffing them!
Happy, happy, happy!!! Premium Member over 8 years ago
I’ll be damed if i’m gonna let anyone swap any of MY bunnies!
Rotifer FREE BEER & BATH MATS ON FEB. 31st Thalweg Premium Member over 8 years ago
My favorite part was … dealers and workingmen.
*Space Madness at The Station* over 8 years ago
>0{O={ 3 hours bunny pic..
William Neal McPheeters over 8 years ago
Has anyone heard from “The Old Wolf” … ?? Has he been banned?
todyoung over 8 years ago
I’d prob’ly swap my Checkered Giant for a wild hare.
Brass Orchid Premium Member over 8 years ago
By this time, I had become so incensed that the lines indicating fragrance from my flower centerpiece had become jagged bolts of un-containable energy. My least sound was terrifying thunder, and my mildest gesture was equal to the jaws of Cerberus closing about your head and shoulders to sever your upper body from the lower in one Hades-inspired bite.So I took a break from writing down my feelings to have a soothing cup of chamomile tea. Sure, it began as a cup of Raging, Boiling, Chamomile Death, but after a while things settled down a bit. And the honey was a nice touch, too.
Brass Orchid Premium Member over 8 years ago
So then I was puzzled for a moment at the rage contained within this spare form. But then it became clear. Were it any greater, the rage would run out of control and be too much to contain. Were it lesser, then the rage could never take hold at all, and it would be cold and lifeless without the rage of some other to empower it. This was right. This was the boiling, seething rage I needed to steep the chamomile and draw out its inner spirit, that I might find comfort in its despair.