So I'm on my way to a chill session when I notice a rabbit/bunny/who knows running from the center divide out into my lane from the corner of my eye.

I probably hit it.
This evidenced by the clank/thud/bad sound from the rear of my car.

I'm hoping that if I did kill it, that it was done in a swift fashion.
At the least maimed it in a way that it could still function properly.
Think that was the only major event of the day.
Everything else was standard today aside from being recruited to become a cellphone slinger.
Tempting.
Really tempting.

The rest of the post will be used in tribute to the reason I need to wash out my tires tomorrow morning.

Mr. Hippity Hop was a mammal well respected by his peers.
Able to leap a certain distance in a single bound.
Had a decent wife that bore him lots of children.
A fan of leafy greens and the occassional fart joke.
Was at one time sought after to be the mascot for a production company.

But not all was well with his life.
It was a dark and cool night in the suburbs of San Marcos.
Neighbors would attest to the fact that they heard arguments.
Apparently over his inability to provide for his 18 children, not including the illegitimate ones.
He hopped furiously out of their den with the thought that maybe a night along the public pool would bring him some much needed solace.
He never did understand what the fast moving lights at night were about.
After this night, he had no need to.
Just a need to be peeled off the asphalt, assuming the coyotes didn't get to his remains first.

The widowed Hop would weep over the loss of her husband.
Placing blame on herself because she truly understood how hard it was for him to be the only one working.
The only reason for her outburst being the fact that he didn't notice that she styled her ears diffrently that night.
She would weep.
At least until someone else came in to fulfill her carnal needs in the way that only a rabbit can.

Current Brain Age: 20
The Random Quote:
"Maybe I'm shy that way." - Tristan Prettyman