H O L D I N G . B A C K . T H E . E A R S

I am consumed by thoughts and mental images of rabbits ears. I ache internally to possess my own pair of fully formed, fluffy, blood warmed ears that sprout from my skull as a growing tree would break though concrete.

Now, when you tell people this you get some odd looks and disgusted comments but you know what? I don't fucking care. I know when to tone down my eccentricities and I know not to tell people every little thing that comes into my head, I'd have be dead long ago in some unmarked grave with a hessian bag on my head or perhaps slightly less dramatic, just friendless. But, when it comes to this I cannot help but to tell the most inappropriate and unfortunate people about my want and need for my own set of rabbit ears.

Women get stress balls filled with chemical gunge implanted into their chests and you think I'm mad? Micheal Jackson turned his self a funny colour in the public eye and yet what I want could be covered up with a hat. What he did couldn't be covered up with all the dust masks, fun parks or defense lawyers Thriller's money could buy.

I sympathise with amputees. Quite often after a limb has been removed they still feel as if the limb is still attached and functioning. They can feel pain, nerve sensation and even and itch they cant scratch as the limb is no longer there. I too feel as if my ears are attached to my head. I feel them twitch, tense or flop according to my emotion, they shiver when the wind blows and they overheat when I blow dry my hair.

Good. Now you all think I'm stark raving fucking mental. Yea well if you own any Juicy Couture or MBT shoes then I think you are too. Image from fashion copious