Wednesday, 8 June 2011

Peter Pantload

     Darling Timothy showed me a lovely video on YouTube yesterday.  It consisted of some Mexican men running around in a forest at night time looking for a creature they called "Fallen Angel".  After managing to find a feather on the ground in the pitch black, they surveyed the night, stopping their camera on a horrible, hunchy, bone rack with knubby wing projections out its anorectic back.  After it realized it was being watched, the creature moves to make an escape.  It was one of those videos created for shock value, and it was obviously fake, but shitgoddamn, glowing eyes get me every time.  Ever since the Never Ending Story, glowing eyes are scarred in my hypothalamus to GTFO!
     Later that evening, I had been super sleepy and missed the majority of the VHS I was watching because of an impromptu nap, so I decided to call it a night at 10PM.  I nestled into bed, pumped some tunes and horizontally danced around in my bed for a while, vigorously mouthing along and choreographing how I'd perform the song if given the opportunity.  Finally it came time to turn out my little bed side light.  As soon as I was in the darkness, I decided I would internally recap the lovely day I had.  Suddenly, the darkness was filled with the image of the creature's reflective greenish-white eyes, terrifyingly vacant yet piercing the night vision camera and my very soul.
     I tried to fight the urge to fumble for the switch and turn on my bedside light, I am an adult, there was nothing to fear, I was being totally irrational.  Who the hell was I trying to fool?  I had that light on faster than a 5 year old rips open presents on Christmas morning.
      I wrapped myself securely in my quilt and hunkered in for a thorough stationary room inspection.  No creatures, just a lot of clothes piled on my floor and on the couch casting shadows.  In my delirious panic, it looked like everything was moving, but as long as nothing had reflective glowing eyes of death, I was going to be fine.  I repeated this dance of fear multiple times: psyching myself up, turning the light out, being greeted with the mental scar of those eyes, then immediately turning the light back on. 
     I realized I needed to fight overwhelming terror with overwhelming cuteness.  To YouTube I went!  On a brief side note, as much as I am not a supporter of Apple and Steve Jobs, I love my Ipod Touch I won from my university's bookstore.  Last night, having a world of adorable videos in my hand was beyond useful.  There's a video of a little white baby Holland Lop bunny nodding off in their owner's hand with soothing music tinkling in the background that I found in the related videos sidebar of a video of a baby seal being released into the wild.

     Not gonna lie, I watched that baby bunny video at least 6 times in a row until I was so deep in cuddly cuteness mode that I made a nice cozy nest and dozed off for a bit.  Even that freaky little Mexican demon couldn't get the image of dat chubby baby bunny out of my head.

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