While perusing my old notebook, I came across 3 pages full of notes that really baffled me at first.
The Skelebunnies and their Woobies
          I’d made notes about a “Skelebunnies” storyline involving some sort of contest in which the adorable little Devil Woobies are all competing, and being judged by Satan, the Skelebunnies, Buttwing, and the demon Terry Piggy-Tinkle. (That’s not the weird part)

           I’d also noted that Henry Ford was an anti-Semite, and jotted something about babies being thrown to their deaths out of hospital windows. WTF?!

Henry Ford, anti-Semite
          This was immediately followed by something about a giggling, screechy, hyperventilating teenage girl flirting with some teenage boy, and naked Jews being marched into a gas chamber, and something mostly illegible about “starvation & insanity.”

          I gasped, horrified. I did NOT remember planning to make grim Holocaust jokes in that Skelebunnies story! The Holocaust is not funny, and I have never thought it was, I swear! What had I been thinking?! I tried really hard to figure out how I might have thought all these elements would fit into a funny little Skelebunnies story. Sometimes (okay, most of the time) my Skelebunnies material is of questionable taste, but there are LIMITS, aren’t there?

          More notes followed about Woobie-judging, and lining the Woobies up by distinguishing marks and ph balance. Bits of dialogue I scribbled in quotes read, “I like to keep things fresh!” and, “Insert the strips!”

          Reading over the notes, I wondered if maybe I’d taken Nyquil before writing all that. The penmanship is uncharacteristically messy and lurching, kind of spiky. Was I having seizures? How could I have forgotten such an incident?

          Then finally I spied a note I’d jotted at the beginning of the three perplexing pages, which says, “Museum Of Tolerance, 4/14/’08”
Hitler, party-pooper
          I heaved a sigh of relief, finally remembering that I’d been a chaperone on a field trip to the Holocaust Museum, and took my notebook along to give me something to do while on the bus ride (which explains the crazily spiky writing), and of course being a nerd I felt the need to take notes about stuff we learned at the museum.

          I never finished that Skelebunnies story, perhaps because it got all jumbled up with Holocaust crap in my head and seemed not so fun anymore.

          Hitler always ruins everything.