What am I going to do with this pet rabbit? Every day it looks like a different historical character. It changes its physical appearance. Every morning. It’s damn creepy. And totally unpredictable. One morning the thing looks like Daniel Boone, the next it’s Robespierre. And it just sits there eating brown lettuce all the while reminding me of the ultimate futility of the human experiment.
Rabbits aren’t supposed to look like famous dead humans. They’re supposed to not blink and lay chocolate eggs. Never a moment’s piece.