A message from the author:
For some of you, this may be old news. For others, this may be ancient hilarity revived from the dead for your laughing pleasure! From hence forth, I will be periodically reposting the old Bunny Droppings blog entries. What about new ideas? Those will still be flowing forth too. An old entry will be designated: From the Bunny Droppings files:
Hello and welcome to the first installment of Bunny Droppings. I’m Aaron Frale and I now present to you, the Bunny Dropping FAQ.
Q: What is a Bunny Dropping?
A: It’s poo.
Q: Right… care to elaborate?
A: From a rabbit.
Q: Okay fine… What is Rabbit Poo then?
A: It looks like a tiny Whopper, except it doesn’t taste like one. In fact it kind of tastes like…
Q: Moving on then! What do you plan to do with this column?
A: Mostly pull stuff out of my ass…
Q: If you make one more poo joke, I swear I’ll…
A: I’m going to pull humor writing out of my ass.
Q: You have writing in your ass?
A: Oh yeah, lot’s of people pull things from their asses on a day to day basis. Take Bush for example:
Donald Rumsfeld is showing Bush and his war cabinet members a map of Iraq with nuclear warheads all over it.
Rumsfeld: So you see, we have reason to believe that Saddam has weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. Bush, do you have that report about these weapons I gave you?
Bush nods with a shit eating grin.
Rumsfeld: You didn’t do that again did you?
Bush grins. Rumsfeld sighs deeply.
Rumsfeld: I’ll get the gloves…
Rumsfeld puts on a pair of prophylactic gloves.
Q: What’s with you and the poo jokes? You know what? I’m sick of this. I quit.
A: No wait! Bunny Droppings is not only about poo!
Q: What’s it about then?
A: It’s about life! It’s about anything and everything! Like for example, this morning, I was watching an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation and I realized an important fact.
A: Despite all this technology and advancements in science, they can’t cure male pattern baldness.
Q: What if Jean-Luc Picard likes being bald? I’m mean lots of Sci/Fi heroes are bald, Riddick from the Chronicles of Riddick, Ripley from Alien 3…
A: But they are all down and dirty. When was the last time you saw any of them sip on Earl Grey tea and listen to classical music while their first officer fists fight the aliens and bangs all the alien babes?
Q: Are you implying that baldness is reserved for a certain type?
A: Yes, think of how much more punk rock Hanson would be if they were bald!
The Hanson brothers, bald with torn clothing, piercings, and tattoos, are doing a twirl and singing Mmmm-Bop.
Q: Nope, nope they still suck.
A: What if you added Sid Vicious!
The Hanson brothers are twirling around. Sid Vicious storms in violently dancing.
Sid Vicious: Rock N’ Fuckin’ Roll!
Sid Vicious head butts Taylor Hanson and he starts to cry.
Taylor Hanson: I’m gonna tell my mommy!
Sid Vicious: It was a bloody tap.
Sid Vicious pats Taylor Hanson’s shoulder. Taylor Hanson screams and topples to the ground.
Short Hanson Brother: I think you killed him.
Q: Um right… let’s go back to talking about Star Trek.
A: Speaking of which, I was watching an episode of the Next Generation to today. In the episode, Jean-Luc went back to France to visit his French family. Not only did his entire French family have British accents but everyone from his small French town (in France) had British accents as well. For a show that literally writes down what keys the actors punch on the computer systems so when they perform the command in a future episode they will punch the same keys, you think they’d at least get the right accents for the country they were visiting. Unless of course, the British people have taken over the entire planet in the future.
Q: You know, I do have a strange urge for fish and chips…
A: Don’t do it! It’s a conspiracy, I tell you! Eat Fish and Fries! Fish and… French… fries… The French are in on it too!
Q: You do know that French Fries aren’t actually French.
A: That’s what they want you think, then the minute you turn around… BAM! Jerry Lewis marathons on TV! We’ll show them… How’s a little Carrot Top marathons, you French bastards!
Q: Right… Well is there anything else you want to add about this weekly humor column?
A: It will be about a bunch of random shit.
Q: I said no more poo jokes!
A: Sorry. Random stuff. Like for example dating, I found this site the other day called millionaire match and the whole purpose of the site was for millionaires, whom had trouble finding dates. I found the concept of a millionaire who can’t find a date fairly amusing. I can imagine the heart felt tales of woe from millionaires.
Tale Of Heart Felt Woe: Hi, my name is Hank, and making love to high priced hookers on my private jumbo jet doesn’t do it for me anymore. I really want to find true love. Even though I’m slim and sexy because I have private trainers and dietitians, I own a tropical island, I’m well read with a PHD from Harvard, and I’m humble and wise because I can afford the Dali Lama as my own private tutor, I can’t seem to find a date. All the hookers don’t understand my obscure Sartre references and can’t match my love making abilities. My good buddy Sting showed me the secret to having sex for twelve strait hours. Women don’t seem to like me. I’m so miserable without my true love that I think I’m going spend the next three months traveling the world. I sure wish there was an internet site for people like me… And then I started pooing! And everyone started pooing! There was so much poo…
Q: Alright that’s it…
Sounds of pummeling, chainsaws, machine guns, mortar rounds, and a goat.
Q: That takes care of that… Hmmm… um… well then… Not much use for a question without an answer, is there?