My name is John Doe and I live in the area, but you don't know me and you will never meet me. Whatever you may think, this letter was not written by Baby Fwan, so don't think that. She has nothing to do with the writing of this letter, so if you find her DNA here then it is purely coincidental and you wouldn't have a chance in a court of law.
The reason of my letter was to inform you that I am not happy with the treatment Baby Fwan, I mean your rabbits are getting, especially that gorgeous one Baby Fwan. She is beautiful, you know I had a loaf of Pumpernickel bread that looked just like her one time. I dont mean the bread looked like her only one time, I mean it was one time long ago, theoretically speaking of course, Anyway, back to the point:
Rabbits, especially Baby Fwan, should NEVER be picked up, EVER, for any reason whatsoever. Baby Fwan..I mean your bunnies do not like being picked up, they fear it like you would the Boogie Man. So don't do it, EVER!! Oh and I just wanted to remark about how incredibly beautiful that Baby Fwan is. Wow, what a delightfully vivacious animal she is. I bet she is real smart too. Boy I can't get over how good looking she is, is she a model? She is definitely not fat, she is just big boned that's all.
Also, I would highly recommend turning over the couch permanently to Baby Fw...oops I mean your rabbits. You should do this ASAP as far as I am concerned, it is good for your mental stability. I read that in the book, "Natural Cures that Baby Fwan Doesn't Want You To Know About" that I saw on TV late at night.
Also, there is some talk about the complex being infested with a poison gas that only humans die from but not rabbits! You need to get away from this place, to save yourself. I would suggest moving out but keeping Baby F... I mean the rabbits in the apartment and still pay all the bills. This way I... I mean the rabbits will be comfortable while you are gone. This is very good advice coming from a sound mind. Bets of Luck to you Jim.
Scratch, scratch..scratch...scratch...scratch...claw...scratch..scratch..scratch.chew a piece off....scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch...claw....scratch...rip...scratch..scratch..scratch..chew a piece off....scratch..scratch..scratch....
10 seconds of pure silent bliss. Then..
Scratch, scratch..scratch...scratch...scratch...claw...scratch..scratch..scratch.chew a piece off....scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch
(Sound of sneaker hitting the couch...) Booom!
FWANNIE!!! FOR THE LOVE OF FWAN, WOULD YOU STOP THAT!!???!!??
10 seconds of pure silent ignorant bliss. Then...
Scratch, scratch..scratch...scratch...scratch...claw...scratch..scratch..scratch.chew a piece off....then the unmistakable sound of a stream of pee hitting cardboard....
She does this when she wants to prove a point.
Sound of magazine flying across the room hitting the plastic garbage pail. Pitter patter footsteps, then I hear Fwan wiggle underneath the couch, the one I am currently in of course. I figure she is going in there to spoon with Thumper or whatever. Fine, sleep is here. Relaxation has finally prevailed. Then, from underneath my butt, I hear the wood beams of the couch starting up with the:
Sound of my foot hitting the bottom of the couch.
FWANNIEE!! Stop it!!
Then I hear her pop out and go over to the water bowl. Then she lays down in front of the TV. I close me eyes, and not even 30 seconds later, the house nextdoor starts up again.
Scratch, scratch..scratch...scratch...scratch...claw...scratch..scratch..scratch.chew a piece off....scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch..scratch..
FWANNN!!!! That's it!
Sound of me admitting defeat and heading off to the bedroom for a nap. Baby Fwan wins again.
I fell asleep and woke up at 6:15AM. Now you have to realize something. I wake up at 6AM every single day, like clockwork. First thing I do, after opening my eyes of course, is go right to the bunny pellets and feed the fat wabbits for breakfast. They know this, they live by this routine, 6AM is magic hour for them, and let me tell you, when the off chance arrives that I am a tad late in getting up, some really weird stuff starts to happen around here. Wanna know what? It happens in stages:
Tumps and Baby Fwan look at each other, look at the clock, look at me on the couch, then look at the clock, then look at each other and silently mouth, "WTF??" They wait another minute, and that is actually a lifetime to them.
BF and TR decide to take an aggressive posture towards me, I don't really know what that means but it sounds pretty cool. Anyway, Frannie and Thumps decide on a tag team approach to try to wake me up. This is where things get really dangerous for the wabbits. They throw on their vests and helmets, and prepare to make entry onto the couch.
Frannie is scared out of her wits (woah, big shocker there) so she cleverly talks numbskull into going first. You never know, things could go all wrong and someone might get "picked up" which would just be awful for them. After all, they have a family at home, to get picked up at such a young age would just devastate the family. Okay, this is getting pretty stupid. Anyway, Thumps takes the scenic route to the couch, and hops up onto the other end where my feet are. He looks at BF for reassurance, and she gives him the nod to continue on, silently giggling to herself, "what an idiot!" So he does.
This is the first indication that I get that something is going on with the wabbits. Why? I can feel Thumps chinning my toes. You believe that? My toes are theirs too!! Not even my couch could stop this possessive relationship I have with the wabbits. Anyway, I feel Thumps starting to navigate the couch, in between my legs and feet. He eventually makes his way onto my chest (I swear to god) and starts to dig on my chest. This is either to wake me up, or to rip my heart out, or both. I personally think it is a wake me up ploy. He has done this for years now.
Truth is, I love it, call me crazy and lazy but I do. It tickles like crazy and I die laughing inside when he does it. But there is a catch. If I even move the slightest bit, with any part of my body, open an eye, or talk, he is GONE. Partly because he does not want to get picked up, and partly because his job is done. SO I don't ever move. I let him dig and dig until Frannie calls him back.
Stage 5 - Baby Fwan
Then it is BF's turn. Frannie does the almost identical thing, except this time Frannie sits on my chest and starts leaning her face over onto my forehead and I hear her sniffing my hairline. Every ounce of my will wanted to grab Baby Fwan and just hug her! Because I NEVER can lol. But this girl is stealth and alertness times a million. I couldn't help it and let out a giggle. Baby Fwan's flying ears, which were in orbit around my head, picked up the giggle and Fran headed for the hills. I jumped up and they were like, "Okay, he's up, lets start doing the morning ritual now!"
Unreal, in all honesty, this has happened to me quite a few times. Almost every time that I fall asleep on the couch overnight.
The gate to the office was AJAR!!! No, there wasn't a jar in the door, the door was a jar!! No the door didn't turn into a jar, it was open! I mean the gate was open. Stop confusing me!
I quickly searched for my two oldest children, Thumps and BF. I found them under the couch (wow, what a shock) and they had a look on their face like the gate being open was OLD NEWS. So I knew the office held at least one of the following surprises for me, not dead wabbits because I put pens up so they can't possibly get in to the other wabbits pens. BUT:
A) $9,690.00 worth of shredded computer wires
B) scared a highly alert wabbits
C) Squibbles with half a nose
D) Fuzzles watching Wheel of Fortune and counting her prescriptions (this is actually a given)
E) A chalk line (what I call it) of cocoa puffs outlining each of the scared wabbit's pen areas.
F) Blow up Doll with lingerie on that looks like .................(((WHOOOAA wait a sec, howd that get in there)) A through E ONLY!!
Okay, so I went in and luckily for me found only situation E. Thank Baby Jesus. After cleaning up the 9 million cocoa puffs. I wonder, where does a 6 pound bunny produce 14 pounds of cocoa puffs from? Do they have them flown in? Unreal. Absolutely unreal.
Ode To What?
by Baby Fwan
Roses are Red (I think),
Violets are Blue (I bet),
You picked me up,
Therefore I hate you!
Boy, what prose! She is something else. There is more though...
I Dream of Couches
by Baby Fwan
As I bunny flop (what is a bunny anyway?) on the carpet and lazily fall asleep,
I think of what I'll wake up to and then start to weep, for thou art thy coucheth not there, I shall beware, and thou art thy art thou not shall art!
What the hell am I saying now? Oh whatever, I just wanna eat Jim's couch okay??!!
Let it All Hang Out
by Baby Fwan
There once was a bun from Nantucket,
Who saw Jim's couch and said, "Aww, F........
WOAH WOAH WOAH, I think we will stop that one short. I don't want the FCC breathing down my back. Boy this blog has really gone to sh%$ hasn't it?? Poems by Baby Fwan, how stupid!!
After I did some calculations, it turns out that isn't very far, about .0000001 cm actually. So I went back to BF and asked her to tell me why bunnies hate Easter so much. Here is what Bf told me, she is very intelligente by the way, she said to picture being an orphan kid, and that every year there was a holiday where someone came and adopted you into this wonderful family Easter morning, and everyone was so excited to see you and hold you and love you. Everything was just so damn chipper.
Then the following morning, as soon as you ask to use the toilet, they freak the hell out, tell you that you are way too much trouble than you're worth, and drive you out to the nearest ditch, and dump you in the woods. Now you are freezing, homeless, familyless, couchless, and in a way worse predicament than living at the orphanage. Now tell me, would you be so darn excited the next time Easter rolled around? I said yes, and Baby Fwan told me that I was an idiot. I told Baby Fwan that I was just being Devil's Advocate, and she asked me if that was the same thing as Deviled Eggs. Of course, I told her the truth: absolutely.
So to cheer the buns up, I am leaving some treats around the house, little plastic eggs with single servings of couch stuffing for BF. In Thumper's eggs I am leaving notes that say, "For prize, see Fran", that should get some good arguments going.