So, I was puttering through Savers, and I saw a rabbit. The strange thing was, it was weirdly faceless, a blank staring thing like out of a “Doctor Who Easter Special” or something, where hordes of faceless rabbits animated by concrete space Mods attack the planet (or something equally absurd). It was, in fact, a picture frame, but seeing it all pictureless was a little scary, unpleasant, faintly surreal. Not unlike high school cafeteria pizza, possibly a little less edible.

I thought “yes, this would be a lot cuter if there was a picture in it.” Obviously, that was the designer’s intent, why not honor them? It’s not meant to be faceless. Give it a mouth. Give it eyes, let it see. Give it a nose, let it twitch.

In view of that impassioned plea for anthropomorphics,  just one face was appropriate.

Heeeere’s Johnny!!

But this opened up a whole world of possibilities.

How about eternally semi-young quasi-diva, Cher? Or gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson? Those would be some AWESOME easter eggs. The colors would be fantastic. And the candies…well, just don’t eat the little red ones.

Or take it down a political angle with “Hope” Obama, and “The Gipper”?

I’m personally in love with bunny Reagan. I would have totally voted for ANY candidate in a fluffy bunny suit.

Hi, Chris. Your cold, deathlike stare is really impinging on the spirit of this festive upcoming holiday. Oh, I fear you, and I would fear you as a rabbit, too. The bunny suit would mean you had plans.

How about fresh-faced adolescent teen heartthrob, Justin Beiber, and for maximum contrast, gaunt writer of the weird and fantastic, the always horse-like H.O.P. Lovecraft?

Or maybe…plumber’s crack?

Would YOU like to Be the Bunny? Let us know, and the management will add it to our Easter Rabbitacular!

Savers on South Lamar, Austin

Ugly birds. Ugly…dead birds.

Once again, the panopaly of “things what Goodwill sells” continues to absolutely boggle the mind. This poor little guy looks like the cat had a few words to say about him. Not kind words. Words like “How did you get in there,” and “can I get you out,” and “are you as edible as you look?” and “I guess not, but it’ll be fun to try anyway.”

The other possibility is that it’s electronic, and makes noise, LOTS of noise, and someone had quite enough thank you. Because it would take effort to work a little plastic toy over this badly.

On the other hand, if it really, really wanted to, it could escape, fly away, live a happy life in one of the rolled-up rugs in home furnishings. But it would have to make choices, sacrifices.

“We’re free. But…only one of us gots wings. That means that one of us gots to stay here. Otherwise, the volunteers will start asking questions, and start looking for us, and maybe they find the nest in home furnishings, and maybe they’ve got a better cage. So I’m asking you…telling you…that you got a home here. If the bottom drops off, come join me. You know where to find me. Under the big gray paisley deep pile on aisle 4.”

Up to a point, I kind of liked birds. Now, I’m not so sure. I didn’t buy him, I didn’t take him home with me, but I’ll still see him…every night. Oh yes.

Goodwill on 183 and Metric, which continues to amaze.

“Space. The…final frontier. These are the voyages of…”

“Captain, I’m sorry to interrupt your daily monologue, but we’ve got a crisis on the screen.”

“Put it on visual.”

*beeping sounds*

“Good lord…it’s hideous. So…unhealthy.”

“Yes sir. We think it may have drained all the cheese from the Virgo Cluster leaving countless billions of life forms cheeseless.”

“Those poor people. No cheese. No cheese at all.”

“They’re probably regular, at least.”

“That’s too great a price to pay for a clean colon, lieutenant. No man should pay that price.”

“Our analysis indicates that even though the entire pizza is over 400,000 light years across, each slice is projected to have only three pieces of pepperoni.”

“Some things…never change.”

“Indeed not, Captain.”

“What’s your advice, then?”

“Do we have a wedge of fresh parmesan the size of Ursa Minor?”

“Actually, yes we do.”

“Really?”

“It was Q again.”

“Ah. Well, then set the main deflector dish to ‘grate.’ And get the replicators to cough up some red pepper.”

“Understood, sir.”

Blue Hanger near McNiel and 183, Austin