A Day In The Life Of The Easter Bunny

It's Easter tomorrow, and so I thought I'd do another funny image blog, this one from the point of view of a certain imaginary critter (Oops, maybe I should have warned you not to let the kids see this before I said the imaginary word. Now you can explain the truth to the kiddies about who the real Easter bunny is). And so I offer you toons, pics, and editorial cartoons, with the narrative point of view of an animal that knows far too much about quantum physics and the space-time continuum....

6 PM Greenwich Time: All preparations made for nighttime journey across world. Transporter technology on standby, ready to put to work. Tesseract-dimension bag filled with chocolate eggs. Carrots for dinner.

6:30 PM. Off and running. Must leave behind ongoing academic writing on the definitive work about the parallels and differences of Christian and Pagan tradition in regards to Easter. Too busy tonight to scribble a few notes in the work in progress. Note to self: find interesting title for book. Will sell better. Maybe The Easter Bunny Versus The Vatican? Inquire with attorney as to if the Vatican can sue me.

8 PM. Trip continues. Chocolate eggs left behind throughout France and Belgium. Have avoided leaving anything at the Sarkozy residence. The President of France reminds me of an ogre.

10 PM. Ran into migrating birds over eastern Russia. Had words with them. Note to self: spatial teleporting best done closer to ground. Yes, it can take longer, but dropping fifteen thousand feet isn't fun.

2 AM. Starting trip east across Pacific. Had to stop for carrots in Melbourne. Will need extra energy to make teleport jumps across ocean. Wouldn't mind carrot cake right about now.

3 AM. Late night stop at carrot patch on Hawaii. Tasty carrots here. Yum yum. Off to Easter Island, then South America.

4 AM. Skirted over South America to start my rounds at Falkland Islands. Spatial teleportation apparently picked up by British and Argentine navies, confusing them. Have inadvertantly caused a shooting war. Oops.

5 AM. Easter morning in Rio. Middle of the night local time. Anxiety between locals over war to the south. Going about rounds as covertly as possible, leaving chocolate behind. Note to self: call spin doctors to see if we can deny everything.

8 AM. Arrival in North America after rounds finished in Central America. Shot at by Floridian. Teleported away. Will deal with errant Floridian later. Work to do.

8:10 AM. Passing by Disney properties near Orlando. Saw Mickey Mouse and Daisy Duck in compromising position. Will not be able to erase that from my mind anytime soon.

8: 40 AM. Paused for a bite to eat in Kansas. Saw political sign. Wondering what a Newt is.

9:20 AM. More chocolate left in various locales. Currently darting about California. Paused to catch breath. CNN on late night television. Britain and Argentina at full scale war. Will make a bet on the outcome when I get home. Rule Britannia, and all that. After all, they kicked ass last time.

9:40 AM. Campaign sign in Wyoming. What's a Mitt?

10 AM. More chocolate left throughout Oregon and Washington states. Brief call to attorney. Querying as to whether or not I may have caused a war.

10:40 AM. Onwards and upwards. Spreading chocolate eggs in hiding spots throughout mid west. Feeling a bit peckish. Will look into carrot supply.

10:41 AM. Out of carrots. Must decide what to do. Can hold out until duties take me into Canada.

11:10 AM. Passed into Nova Scotia. Meeting up with old friend Arbor Day Badger. Very tired. He's cranky about being woken up before dawn local time. Asked for carrots. Only has turnips. Of course. Reason Arbor Day Badger isn't well known is because of his fondness for leaving turnips everywhere each Arbor Day. Hate turnips.

11:15 AM. Solved carrots problem. Found a healthy stock of carrots at a local warehouse. Left chocolate eggs as payment.

1 PM. Duties at an end in northern Yukon. Starting process of teleporting back home across Atlantic. Heard news. British PM promises to bring Argentina to its knees. Very tired. Home to a breakfast of carrots and eggs, and long sleep. Note to self: if Anderson Cooper finds me, deny everything.