I'm on staycation because I don't have enough moolah to go to Albi, France, which I was named after. But speaking of French stuff, I'm carrying a red balloon. And it's in Williamsburg. Aren't I artistic?
I hopped over to this old sugar factory, expecting to get some of the good stuff because for a long time sugar plums have been dancing in my head. When I got there, it was just a bunch of hipsters and a big statue of a weird looking rabbit. Even though the statue was like a million times bigger than me, everyone was just staring at me. Hey, guy, I can hear you whispering--did you notice I have huge ears? And please folks, no pictures, I'm just trying to enjoy my day!
So I got away from the riff raff and tried to find out what it's like to really live the life of a street rabbit. This is what it would be like if I were a graffiti artist. I would tag every wall will my paw prints and pictures of hay. Then I'd become even more famous and sell my art to yuppies.
But who am I fooling? I'm no street critter. Nope, Albi is more of a dreamer with his head in the clouds. Here's me, dreaming of my next adventure. Can you guess what I'm thinking? Hint: it's not about you.