A lost pony, and the tragic demise of the Easter Bunny

There's a song by Afroman, "Tall Cans," which contains the following lyric:

Now I'm walkin down the street with some chicken and a forty
I'm yellin at these hoochies and I'm lookin for a party

This song is in the rotation on Steph's ipod, so it's popped up in her car a couple times when the kids are present. Anyway, yesterday Mr. K started to sing:

"Now I'm walkin down the street with some chicken and a phony
I'm yellin at these hoochies and I'm lookin for a pony"

And just like that the song is transformed. Instead of a no-good thug lookin' to get crazy, we have a poor guy wandering the streets enlisting the help of the neighborhood hoochies to help him find his lost pony. It's so heartfelt. I've named the pony Nibbles and we've decided the "Tall Cans" in the title of the song refer to the tall cans of oats you buy in the store. Nibbles just needs his dinner. Hopefully the hoochies saw which way he went.

Yesterday I had to fulfill my manly duties once again and discard a dead animal that was stinking up the garage.* Mr. K had mentioned the stench first, and Steph said when she got home that it smelled like something had died next to the wall of the garage. So I moved some stuff and sure enough, there was a teensy baby bunny lying next to the wall. It must have hopped in when the garage was open and then couldn't find it's way out. Poor guy. Being the man of the house I had to grab a shovel and remove the body. If you're keeping score at home (assuming anyone even reads this thing anymore) that's 1 dead mouse, 1 live vole, and 1 dead bunny that I've had to rid the house of in the 13 months we've lived here. Darn varmints.

*My nose officially sucks. There was a rotting maggot-ridden rabbit in the garage and I couldn't smell it.