Chapter 4. Life passes so did Bunnie Foo-foo

a rose by any name will smell just as sweet.

things are not always what they seem

Life once seemed to pass so slowly ,but not for one small gray bunny , so what happened? Well, that will come, for terror-struck, from out of no where, for our little bunny foo foo.

(Society in general has this dysfunction in its thinking, women in their aragonces blame every thing on men, (yet behind everyone, every man; small or great man, there is a woman telling him just what to do?) I make this claim for we know its true; for from Hollywood we hear the cry of all powerful very prideful women;those who tells us its all  true for they claim if women ran everything there would be no war ,no death from guns. But wait are not single women house holds the fastest growing?  If it is so then why has crime increased . Why gun has violence among their children increased?  If they are better at raising children all alone with just the help of a sitter and all of this other is man fault, Where is their responsibility? 

No people children need two full-time parents: a father and a mother; not two people who play at house, but those who made them need to raise them. I have watched as so many women bring their bays daddy out and explain he has children with this one that one and the other, so she has to support him because of his kids. And she is angry at the other women and they are mad at each other. That is a social dysfunction for I have to ask why are they all not mad at him for all his lies, well? dysfunction two they love-em and the woman made – em do it.


In a home not so long ago, on a quiet street as it now exists in my childhood memory from long ago in the past:

You see I grew up in a home, a home filled with five little vipers, two came later that is an addition I will get to, at that time they were the most beautiful of little girls. Now as I have said many do believe, for it is taught , really thought that such sweet things can never make war or lie. For they are made of the finer things, such as sugar with sweet spice, yes, all that’s nice; well,this I know, they do make war, they will, they planned my death many, many times; I know,for I heard them, yes, I did; I will stress to you here my fear of them has caused much of my dysfunction? I get and I got no respect from my little brood of pit-vipers.

All the while they smile oh so sweetly, batting those big eyes so sweet, angelic eyes of no deceit, yet with vampire like grins, eyes so focused watching waiting like a lioness preparing its attack.  I have heard the speeches heard the cheers, now over the fifty five plus years,  that if  women ruled this world be a paradise, that there would be no wars no violence. Then these self-same women remind us all of this, Oh, yes, behind every man stands a woman, so much greater, telling him just what to do. Now lest we forget.. (Dysfunction or dysfunctional)  (So why are there then wars), who is really in charge? A speculation on our social suicide and blame.)

Well I grew up, I survived, made it out oh yes, Yes, I am still alive; I got away from a home that was run and ruled by sweet little girls.  Have you ever seen a coral snake? A pit-viper perhaps? An Asp?

Here’s what my Pappy said to me:

When I was young, yes, just old enough to understand my pappy, took me aside he explained to me these simple facts of life.  Son he said a mans position in the higher anarchy of this world ruled by women is tenuous at best so my son now listen  up, I’ll only say this to you once, you’re gonna be on your own most of time. Son I like life peaceful, boy yes I do. Son I do care for you, but  you got to learn that life ain’t fair, son you’ve got to understand this about all women, so listen to me now and you just may survive.

Here are the rules you need to know: For women are as follows:

1.They are always right,

2. you are always wrong;

3. a man is never right, they just let us think we are.  Why,  read rule four.

4. So they can blame you (us) later, you are just a man, so learn it now,  deal with it.

5. They only allow us to stay here, only if were good.

6. lift the seat, put it down; if you value your life

These are some of the lessons I that learned way back when I was oh so young.

So with that said I saw and learned the truth of what lovely sweet girls can do.

That is why I now relate the tale of the now late little bunny Foo-Foo.

 Men fight like thugs with fists, sticks and clubs; women has a more refined tool they sport painted claws which cause great damage and of course her pride her crown her hair is the target for the pulling. So when a women fights it’s like a feral cat, not at all like a dog. (Men are the dogs, not odd) well I can say this from experience, this even when their young, they are cruel and yet so sweet. 

It’s beyond me what was thought on that tragic day by the pretty little things,but oh how sad for our poor, poor little gray bunny who was named Foo Foo. 

Now in our dysfunctional society remember the elite of holy wood claim that women are far gentler than men,  they have more compassion more empathy the claim is they have the better ability to love. Or are they really just like the males. No,one has ever asked, nor will they; perhaps one day someone will, But alas quite late for our poor bunny foo foo. Are women truly equal to or in some cases do they surpass the male in their cruelty.

Once upon a time now long ago there did live:

A sweet, sweet bunny, yes, he was ,never did he complain, just sat inside his cage, he ate his carrots, loved his lettuce and other ruffage he received;he  had a life that was oh so sweet. Then one spring day, early in the afternoon, the youngest of the five sisters came and asked her mother, mommy can I play, Oh mommy can I please, can I? Please mommy, can I pet the bunny, please? Mommy,I love my bunny foo-foo.

Never pausing from her task, mommy just says yes. Later in a huff, just three-point four-second or less, comes another slightly older and she asks, mommy is my turn yet? Can I please, now pet the bunny? Sissy’s  had her turn now, now it should be mine.  

Mommy does not turn, far to focused on her task, simply says to her sweet red-haired girl, oh yes dear, ok that sounds just fine. So out the door the  red-haired viper flies crying like a banshee, deadly blood curdling screeching   the sound echoing around and through the house the neighbor’s wondered for many days if one or two had met a horrid end.

The youngest screams as she sees the flash of red, now suddenly confronted with these words”mommy said” from the red-haired viper. as she reaches for that defenseless bunny again she says. Mommy says it’s my turn now; so you have got to share. And squeal grows the give me now and the no, no , no’s grow.

 Not five minutes have now passed Mommy has now finished  her task, when from outside the clamorous sounds she does hear. Oh wailing oh the god forsaken  screeching, still the more the banshee wailing and the mournful cry’s, that is growing ever louder, coming to the door, She looks to see, Her two sweet baby’s, now at war, with little bunny foo foo as their unintended victim. Our  poor sweet bunny is now the center piece of a great war  and brutal war, neither side will admit defeat; nor give an inch.  So here have an innocent held as hostage being tugged and pulled between them, each child holding, each one crying, each one refusing to let go. Each is firmly holding onto our poor little Bunny Foo Foo.

Now our loving mother sees all this and she simply call to them lunch is ready come on in, but alas its far to late for Bunny Foo Foo for he is no more.

Taking up the poor sweet bunny, she places him in his den , then brings her two sweet baby’s back into the house. It’s then she calls me out, gives to me the task, to go outside and dig a hole in which to plant our little fluffy friend. The Bunny  has had an accident she tells me, so hurry right along. So following her orders, I proceed to do what she has requested, I dig a hole then go to place the remains of the bunny down deep with in, After performing my task I return to my mother , then I asked her if she knew that Foo Foo was stretched, I pointed out it was no accident.  I told my sweet mother the bunny he was stretched Oh yes  he was; he did not have an Accident! Mother he was a victim of those sweet little girls in there!

            Down now through the years the two youngest have forgotten the Foo Foo incident, yet they still blame each other for a lot of things that they as adults have forgotten. So from all of this, I learned that people can be cruel, can forget a past hurt then blame others for a guilt they feel over a long forgotten day. Now I think down deep they held the guilt of the day they both pulled and fought for control of one small bunny. No they never did stopped fighting, until one passed away.  Now the survivor well she carries a new guilt buried inside the wish the longing she had said good-bye. And perhaps a simple thing like I am sorry.



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