Sometimes, fic research leads you to learn interesting things that history textbooks neglect.
Like the time President Jimmy Carter got attacked by a fucking rabbit.
WHY HAVE I NEVER HEARD OF THIS BEAUTIFUL STORY BEFORE THIS EVENING?
I mean, imagine those poor fucking news anchors, desperately trying to look sober and serious: “Today we’ve received reports that while on a camping trip earlier this year, President Carter was–snerk–attacked by a rabbit–snerk snerk–while on a camping trip–Oh, fuck it, FILM AT 11, MOTHERFUCKERS!”
The only thing better than this was learning immediately afterwards that Napoleon Bonaparte managed to be attacked by an entire fucking warren of rabbits.
REBLOGGING FOR ATTACK RABBITS.
<_< Jimmy Carter is a second cousin of mine. Last time I went to a family reunion back in the early 00′s, I met him, and my aunt was all “Don’t talk to him about rabbits.”
OMG. *rolling around on the floor laughing*
DON’T TALK TO HIM ABOUT RABBITS
AAAAAHHAHAHAHAHHA *gasp* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA
*sobs of joy* Well. I can die happy now. knowing this.
