the dead rabbits

Several years ago, when I was a wee lass (okay, I was not a wee lass), I watched Martin Scorsese's Gangs of New York (2002).

Among the most memorable of things about this movie was the fact that Daniel Day Lewis in plaid pants looked an awful lot like my twenty plus year old stuffed monkey in red plaid overalls:

Behold:

Mr. Day Lewis.

And behold, again:

The monkey.
See what I'm saying?

All my monkey needs is a top hat, and a handle bar moustache.

In fact, I'm not so sure my plush monkey didn't star in Gangs of New York.

Also, because I am geeky, I had to read up on The Dead Rabbits.

Little did I know, a couple years later, I would have a rabbit who could play dead:



Lest you think I am some monster who has just committed lagomorphocide, I haven't. She does this about five times a day. She flips over on her side (thus her name, "Flip flop") and zonks out. Once I came home from work and she was sleeping under a table near the door. I slammed the door, and she didn't even wake up. I've never seen an animal play dead so convincingly.

Except maybe Piper:



And me. I did a damn fine job of replicating a comatose person this weekend. It's been all kinds of crazy deadness around here.

This night shift thing, man, it's brutal.