The bunnies are back. But am I ready for motherhood?


As the sun sets on our spring break reprieve, we wake up today a doleful dawn. But shall we languish away, lugubrious, powerless against the tide of finals and papers that awaits us until the Amnesty of Spring Weekend? No! For the University has brought us a bountiful gift of bunnies to ameliorate our heartache. The return of SUPER HEAVY PETTING is today, folks, as a welcome back and welcome to spring. It will begin at 11 a.m. and continue until 2 p.m. today on Wriston.

I wish. But let’s return to that most magical experience. Some of my worthy peers may remember the Heavy Petting event that happened about a month ago. I, for one, have vivid memories of that fateful day:

I exited the Ratty. They stared at me with deep-set, knowing eyes, wrapped up in a blanket like the cheese-and-bean burrito I had just consumed. I stood transfixed, as their eyes followed me, questioning, contemplating, wondering.

Suddenly, my boots had a life of their own. They took off, running towards the Bunny Burritos. Pass me the bunny, bitch, I growled to a pony-tailed freshman. I lifted the cauliflower-colored bunny into my arms, and cradled it like my baby.

I wanted to take the bunny home, swaddle it, and bottle-feed it sweet bunny rabbit milk. Oh, my cotton-tailed friend, so knowing and so wise. Could it be that your newfound presence in my life could care for me as much as it cares for… you? My uterus started to palpitate. I questioned everything.

Oh my god, what am I doing. I’m not ready for children.

Or am I? I wake up every morning, walk to the Ratty, eat a pancake. I step outside, go to class. And here, this bunny is in my life, making me question everything. I hear the laughter of my future children frolicking in the backyard, blowing out dandelions into the breeze, each fluff floating along to lay its seed in the tender ground. But am I an independent woman? Is this the heavy weight of matriarchy upon me? What does it mean when the soft touch of a rabbit inspires a kindling within my breast greater than the touch of any man?

My writing has become flat, uninspired, ill-illustrious. I need to venture forth into the world, experience a life beyond the Ratty and bunny. How can my future memoirs ever hope to compete against those of a young Southern homosexual teenager, or somebody who has cancer?! I need to be more interesting. I should go sky-diving. Try ecstasy. Maybe I should have sex with a girl.

Super Heavy Petting used to be the best thing that ever happened to me. But it ballooned into a greater venture, an existential crisis of mammoth proportions. The bunny’s stare consumed me, devouring my mind and my heart. Where is my life going? What is my destiny?

Luckily, as an additional relaxation measure, the University had also provided free cannabis next to the bunnies. I’ve heard they’re going to do it today too. Check it out!


  1. Toby

    Is this a prank or is it true?

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