Talk:Space Rabbit

You know, the Space Rabbit is the Easter Bunny's long-lost cousin. тяιρρуƒℓσωєя (talk) 14:49, 22 Arche 2014 (UTC)

Are you sure about that? A Methodist once mentioned that to me in confidence, but he was drunk. 16:23, 22 Arche 2014 (UTC)

I am indeed. Drunk people actually are the most sober of all, while sober people are the most drunk of all. тяιρρуƒℓσωєя (talk) 16:33, 22 Arche 2014 (UTC)

On the surface, that may sound like it makes some sort of sense. On further analysis, however, the only conclusion one can draw is that cleanliness is next to Godliness. Down that road lies justifications for smoking crack or building yet another church. I would take this as a personal affront were I another kind of crazy altogether. Fortunately for Illogicopedia, there will be no flame war, no whinging tantrums on my part, no cries of "Tally ho! I'm off in search of the Queen's mustache!", no references to my dog (have I mentioned how I love my sweet Frunobulax?, no double negatives, no no Nannette, no crossing on red, no working bilge pumps, why are you still reading? No palimpsests gathered like so many corporate ladders, no philandering clerics, no smells that make you gag, no horrible movies that your significant other forces you to sit through, may I have 8 more of the little yellow pills again?

...sorry... I'm back... damned telepathic aliens. So, what were we talking about? Oh, right! Fanged potatoes! Watch out, they're on the loose. These aren't your run of the mill, crate-trained fanged veggies. 13:02, 25 Arche 2014 (UTC)

I wouldn't be able to determine whether the Space Rabbit is terrifying or adorable. This leads me to the conclusion that it's most likely terrifyingly adorable. Fanged potatoes are my sworn enemy - they're almost as vicious as those massive staplers. ⟦this is the end⟧ 13:21, 25 Arche 2014 (UTC)

Love the new sig. I concur; terrifyingly adorable is probably the best descriptor of Space Rabbit. As for fanged potatoes, I had no idea you were such a passionate hater. I, too, have had my run-ins with the little fellows. During the Wars of Pubic Attrition I lead an assault on on Hill 617, where fanged potatoes were dug in deep. To make things worse, giant staplers had set up a crossfire from ridges flanking the hill. My best mate, Gurney "Russet Buster" Cognition lost control of his bodily functions on a roller curler haired ladies front lawn. We took the hill, but egads! At what cost! 18:00, 25 Arche 2014 (UTC)