Parrothead Ramblings

What we really need is a good bunny suicide hotline.

I've written about my good phriends Greg the Hoser and Steve-o a number of times. We've hung out for years now, and probably will for many more. Unless, that is, they accomplish their dreams of becoming a real estate tycoon and a golf pro, respectively. Neither looks like it will happen anytime soon, which is good for me because I won't get left behind. See, I have the money-managing ability of my Golden Retriever, and she usually beats me at golf about half the time. Well, she beats me at golf only if I let her use her handicap and two mulligans per round. Without that decided advantage, she can't touch me.

So Greg the Hoser and Joy invited The Fetching Mrs. Crime Dog and myself, along with Steve-o and Rocky, out to his place in Las Sendas this weekend for a little pool-floating beer-drinking and cooked-animal soiree. We had a real nice time. Greg is a good cook, and Joy is a lovely hostess. She obviously has very bad eyesight, or else whe wouldn't hang out with The Hoser, but she's a lovely hostess.

It was somewhere around the third six pack that this story comes out about The Hoser saving the life of a little bunny rabbit that fell into his pool earlier in the day. It took all of his best P.A.D.I. Divemaster and Rescue Diver skills to leap into the pool, reassure the bunny that he was there to help, keep its head above water, tow it back to shore, and administer lifesaving oxygen and CPR to the little guy. OK, so that just makes a better story. What he really did was fish it out of the drink with that long-handled net thing you us to get crap out of your pool, dump it on the ground, and then continually nudge it with the net until it got annoyed enough that it simply refused to die at that particular location. The story ends with the bunny regaining its strength, leaping up onto a boulder beside The Hoser to pose for some commemorative photographs, then happily hopping back out to the wild to rejoin Floppsy, Moppsy, and Bugs. What an adorably happy ending!

My theory is that the rabbit didn't get into the pool by accident. This was a suicide attempt. I mean, c'mon, the pool is like 30 feet by 15 feet and full of water you can't drink. You can't just not see it and stumble in. The rabbit probably had just been dumped by his girlfriend, or has a substance-abuse problem, or maybe has the bunny version of a sex addiction - he fucks like a human. In other words, he had to have gone in on purpose, and The Hoser screwed up his plans.

Well, with any luck, a light came on and the bunny now realizes he has a lot to live for. I'm guessing the opposite: he's hiding under the wheel of a Volvo, waiting for the owner to leave for work, thus ending it all for him.

And I want to see these alleged commemorative photographs. Hell, I'll even post 'em to prove that this all happened as reported, and isn't really some beer-induced Canadian fantasy.

Let me tell you something else you won't believe about Greg The Hoser. He is ambivalent about attending Parrot Grande this year, our biggest club function! Some bullshit about going to New Zealand or something and saving his money. We all know he has plenty, so please help me out here, readers:

Please drop whatever you're doing, and email Greg the Hoser immediately at

gmhard@yahoo.com.

Encourage him to get off his ass and register for Parrot Grande. Now, not later. Tell him that we are proud of his heroic efforts at saving furry critters, and that we have a special award for him at Parrot Grande to recognize him for his selfless sacrifice. Oh, and guilt him by telling him that it's the Crime Dog's birthday that weekend (the big 5-0), and it would really disappoint me if he wasn't there. Screw New Zealand. It's just a bunch of weird animals and people who dress and talk funny. He can get that at Parrot Grande for a lot less money.

Oh, and tell him you want to see that picture of him with the second-chance bunny, shaking paws or whatever in the hell they did. Prove it up or give it up.

Hell, email him twice. Three times. Flood him. Let's get him to Parrot Grande. And let's get that picture. The Crime Dog is counting on you.
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