A Day In The Life of Bunny

Hey Mumbles.......

2010-05-05T21:35:00.002-04:00

This is Nigella Lawson........

For more info click HERE and HERE.

You're welcome.

XO
Bunny

p.s. Flippin' call me sometime, eh ?

Thus Far, The Best Quote Of 2010

2010-04-25T19:04:00.002-04:00

When: This past Friday
Who: Myself, The Mister and My Sweet Emmsie
Where: Letting Emmsie drive our car ( yes, she's driving now. YIKES ! ) home from a shopping/lunch excursion
Why: I was acting, well, like myself.

Emmsie:

" You know Erica, it's really hard to tell when you're drunk and when you're sober. They're pretty much the same. "

I told her I preferred to think of myself as " fully self actualized " rather than there being little delineation in me being sober or not.

I took it as a compliment.

Sorry for the delay in blogging - I've been busy doing the aforementioned self actualizing.

XO
Bunny

Pardon Me While I Go Get My Tub Of Duncan Hines Dark Chocolate Frosting.

2010-01-21T09:06:00.003-05:00

This is Hugh Jackman - post workout.

You can just smell the sexy on him, can't you ?

I knew I was getting old when guys in their forties

were way hotter than guys in their twenties.

XXOO

Bunny

East Coast Dooce ?

2010-01-12T07:31:00.006-05:00

Occasionally I will read Dooce and mutter to myself...

" Jeez, I think she and I were separated at birth or something..."

I have gathered more proof as to our probable lineage.....

CLICK HERE.

I do THE.EXACT.SAME.THING. when purchasing wine.

AND I DON'T EVEN DRINK WINE !

The sulfates make me sleepy. Really sleepy. A glass of Merlot is the equivalent of 10 Unisom for me. I told The Mister if some unfortunate soul wanted to seduce me employing wine, among other things, that would be really counter productive for the individual in question.

XXOO
Bunny

P.S. I got carded at the liquor store last week. Getting carded at the liquor store when you're creeping up on your mid-thirties is better than sex. Or validation. Or validation DURING sex.
To the point; It made my day.

How To Keep A Two Year Old Entertained At The Ass Crack Of Dawn. a.k.a. Another Post About My Niece

2010-01-04T18:25:00.009-05:00

The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to keep one energetic two-year old entertained while every other adult in the house is asleep.

Behold ! I AM A GENIUS !

YouTube ! Ah yes, that veritable treasure trove of entertainment for all ages !

I believe I've said something to this effect in the not too distant past.

Dang it YT is a wonderful thing !

Picture it;

Me-sitting in my desk chair, sipping coffee. It's early. I have a footie pajama-ed, recently white cranberry peach juiced ( no sippy cup - from a regular cup. that's right, Auntie is BAD ASSED ! NO SIPPY CUP YO ! ) two year old on my lap.

Remembering that my MIL ( a.k.a " Nana " ) has expressed to me her thoughts that our precious niece/granddaughter is a " very old soul " I thought I would try to find something that would appeal to a very old soul-ed two-year old.

Behold ! Gene Kelley ! Singing in the rain !

If my niece had a greater grasp of of the English language or a more complex sophistication of thought she would have said;

" This is SO.AWESOME ! Auntie, HOW DID YOU KNOW I WOULD DIG THIS SO ! "

Dunno kid, I'm just good like that.

Later, subsequent viewings of this very video elicited her saying " Uh-Oh " until someone hit the repeat button.

Over and over and over and over again.

What to show her next......think quick Auntie....you're losing her ! She's getting antsy ! HUUUUURRRY !

Behold ! West Side Story !

Ammmmerrrrr-eeeeeeeccccaaaa ! I VANT TO BE IN AMER-REEEK-KAH !

How hot was Rita Moreno back in the day ?

Sadly we didn't watch too much of " I vant to be in Amer-reeek-kah " as I decided that since she was in her parrot stage ( repeating everything you say ) I decided that I didn't need her parents waking to find that their precious little girl had learned the word " Spic ".

NEXT !

As my feet were beginning to hurt watching Mr. Kelley and Ms. Moreno dance for the umpteenth time I decided we were going for a swim.

Internet, meet Esther Williams.

Esther got mad skills.

You'd never seen Gwyneth don a bathing suit and attempt such.

SUCK IT PALTROW !

Again, had my niece had the capacity;

" Ok Auntie, I see where your going with this one. I can appreciate the skill and patience it must take to choreograph such a performance. That and I like their sparkly outfits. "

As my coffee kicked in and I started to feel a bit braver I decided to give MJ a try.

CLICK HERE !

You can't embed any MJ videos. Sorry.

Turns out my niece LOVES MJ.

If she could;

" Auntie, this is so cool. I love Beat It. I feel badly for MJ though, I think he subjugated his needs to please others, ultimately it lead to his own demise. I hear he had some serious Daddy Issues. But I love that sparkly red jacket."

As I had polished off my first cup of coffee I was feeling brave and decided to push the envelope ( or it seems I pushed my own agenda.....) even further.

Behold !

NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK !

I figured since we were on this singing and dancing roll I might as well run with it.

Sadly, Jordan, Donnie, Danny, Joe and Jon ( STILL HOT ! ) did not hold her attention for more than six seconds.

At the sound of the first " Oh, oh, ohohooo...." she squirmed out of my lap and took off.

Jordan, we got work to do baby.

Turn her to the NKOTB side I will. A choice she will have not.

XOXO

Bunny

Miss Cleo Ain't Got Shit On Me.

2009-12-28T16:39:00.005-05:00

Did I not tell you, Dear Internet, quite some time ago that it would behoove many a single gal to stay.the.hell.away from Charlie Sheen ?

So it seems I have said something to that effect in the not too distant past.

Guess what ?

It seems a leopard cannot change his spots.

Or his anger management problems.

I think he used a knife this time because he's not legally allowed to own a handgun - for good reason I might add......

:::::::sigh:::::::::

Ladies, he cannot be " fixed ".

I don't care who you are or what you have to offer.

He is the original Scratch & Dent of Significant Others.

Don't shop on the clearance rack for a life partner !

I think by now he should also not be legally allowed to cohabitate with any female ever again.

Dr. Drew where are you ??????

XOXO
Bunny

What Happens When You're On Santa's " Naughty " List.

2009-12-26T17:33:00.002-05:00

You get a nasty-assed case of Conjunctivitis on Christmas Eve.

Y'all can CLICK HERE if you dare.

But I'm warning you, it's not for those of you who get grossed out easily.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

XOXO

Bunny

The Buck Stops At Auntie....

2009-12-20T21:52:00.010-05:00

The In-Laws went back to sunny FLA yesterday. They'd been here for a few days for a pre-pinnacle of forced Merriment and Mass Merchandising season visit.
It was lovely to see all of them and as one often says we-don't-see-each-other-lets-do-this-again-soon and this time The Mister and I actually meant it.

However I should tell y'all that it snowed last night. Like, a lot. As Steph has been known to say, it was " Snowmaggedon. "

Anywho, as I was saying, The Buck Stops At Auntie.
Let me paint y'all a picture;

My 2-year old Niece: ( displaying the beginnings an Oprah-worthy Ugly Cry for no good reason..) **Sniff, sniff, snort, curl of lip ** WAAAAHHHHH. WAH WAH WAHHHHH !

Me ( tenderly as possible, but I ain't playing, yo.): Hey, there is no crying at Auntie's house.

My Niece: ( slightly taken aback that someone has told her that crying is not allowed )** Sniff ( pause ) sniff, sniff, ( pause ) boogers descend from nose, lip curls again ** WAAHH-

Me: Excuse me, I told you crying was not allowed at Auntie's house.

My Niece: ( processing this new information with a slight WTF look on her face ) ** Sucks boogers back up into her nose with the force of a Hoover vacuum and tentatively attempts whining instead ** Eeeehhhh...uhhh....waah..

Me: Listen, I'm sorry, but crying and whining is not allowed. This is Auntie's house and she pays the bills. So the only person who gets to cry around here is me, ok ?

My Niece: ( nodding ) ** sucks back more boogs with epic suction force **

Me: Are you ok now ?

My Niece: ( wipes nose on sleeve ) Yesh.

FAST FORWARD SIX HOURS....

My Niece: ( again with the crying bit...) WAHH WAAAHHHH-

Me: Hey, there is no crying at Auntie's. Remember ?

My Niece: ( nods her head ) ** sucks back boogers ** Yesh. ** goes on about her business **

FAST FORWARD.....

My Niece: ( over tired and fighting bedtime )** rubs eyes, binkie hanging loosely from her mouth ** Eeeehhh, uhuuuu, mmmmmhh, weeeennn, eeeehhss......

Me: ( carrying her to the bedroom )Come on, it's time for little girls to go to bed now.

MN: ( Crawls into bed ) ** fuss fuss whhhhhinnee, rubs eyes **

Me: ( pulls the blankets over her ) I'm going to put the blankets over you, you close your eyes and go to sleep.

MN: **Snores **

THE NEXT DAY....

MN ( on a crazy, mad powdered sugar induced spaz attack ) ** doing laps around the house and occasionally stopping in the kitchen to butt her head against my thigh ** SQQUEEEE !! AAAAA HAAAAA !! NA NA NA NA !! HEHEHEHEHEHE !!!

** Stops a lap in the kitchen, falls onto the floor and begins performance art that can best be described as a cross between peddling an invisible bike and moshing **

Me ( staring at MN spazzing out on the kitchen floor ): That's it. You've had enough. You're cut off.

MN: ( looking up at me from the floor ) No ! You off ! ** giggles uncontrollably **

Me: Nope, YOU'RE cut off.

MN: ** points at me ** No. YOU OFF !

Me: Gimme your keys, I'm calling you a cab.

MN: CAWING UM' ! ( I'll translate.. " G'head Auntie, call a cab." )

Me: ( putting plate of xmas cookies out of her reach ) That's it, we're closing up. We're skipping last call tonight. Besides, you've had enough.

MN: ( face down on the cold stone tile of the kitchen floor, beginning her sugar crash ) I OFF !

Me: You said it girlfriend.

So I guess I can add " Getting a two year old to behave " to my list of Mad Skillz.

You thought I was kidding about the powdered sugar induced spaz attack.

She licked the spilled powered sugar off the counter after we made xmas cookies.

Spaz Attack in 3........2...........1

XXOO
Bunny

a.k.a Auntie

Eleven Days Till Santa Comes.........

2009-12-13T20:31:00.003-05:00

Hope everyone has been nice !

Bunny

The Countdown Begins.

2009-12-08T06:34:00.003-05:00

I have seven days of full time employment left as of today.

Start your collective timers now.......tick..tick..tick.

I've started and trashed about five blog posts with regard to why I decided to relinquish my job, but I seem to have a hard time ordering my thoughts and nothing I'd written made any sense.

Perhaps another day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, onto the forced merriment and mass merchandising season..... The Mister has become infused with the holiday spirit as of late. The xmas tunes have been flowing like vodka around here. We've been on a steady diet of Lou Rawls, Harry Connick Jr, et al for about a week now. He made cookies the other day. He's mentioned purchasing a tree a few times now.

Me ? Meh. I'd prefer to go from Halloween right onto Groundhog Day. The holidays don't do too much for me. They never have. But I'm going to take one for the team and deck my halls with made-in-China boughs of Holly from WalMart and smile while I'm doing it.

Just an FYI, my favorite xmas tune....that you hardly ever hear anymore....is Cheech and Chong's Christmas Song. I believe the correct name of the song is " Santa Claus and His Old Lady " Click on the Santa Claus and His Old Lady listed on the right hand side.
Hilarious. Cracks me up every stinkin time.

Gotta go get ready for work.
Smell ya later.

XO
Bunny

The Untitled Post About That Time I Quit My Job.

2009-12-03T20:09:00.003-05:00

Ummm.......y'all read that correctly.

I gave my notice at work about two weeks ago.

I have eleven days of full time employment left.

I bet you're all thinking What kinda dumbass quits a stable, full time job during a recession ??!!.

Ummm.......that would be me.

I'd take the time to explain, but I spent eleven hours in my car today and well, I'm really fucking tired.

Film at 11.

XXOO
Bunny

P.S. For some 140 character or less entertainment y'all should check out my twitter account/page/profile.

P.P.S WHY THE FUCK WILL THIS GUY NOT GO THE HELL AWAY ! UGH !

The Best Show Ever.

2009-11-15T19:44:00.001-05:00

I don't know about y'all, but I feel like throwing on a white linen jacket and rolling up the sleeves.

Bunny

Fear And Loathing In Home Depot.

2009-11-14T21:26:00.002-05:00

I've been feeling very expressive lately. Not sure exactly why, but it seems that I've got a lot to say these days.
I've just got blog posts coming out of my ears.........
So I'm just gonna go with it and ride the wave.

Cause sooner or later, and given that the mass merchandising and forced merriment season is upon us probably sooner rather than later, I will be constitutionally unable to do anything other than soak my flappy ass is in the tub with an issue of Oprah or House Beautiful and a screwdriver set neatly on the edge of the tub and the blog posts will dry up faster than Martha Stewart's cooch.

The Mister calls the whole magazine-cocktail-tub routine " Lifestyles of The Bitchy and Shameless ".

Anywho......back to the Big Orange Home Improvement Mega Store.

We went to The Depot earlier today. I needed a replacement tub handle. Three little things to replace the circa 1976 tub handle in the upstairs bath.
We went to The Depot for three things and left an hour and forty-five minutes later with a significant amount of cash divested from our wallet.

What is it about The Depot ?

I get in there and it's like some sort of weird vacuum.....you get sucked in and cannot manage to get out without spending at least fifty clams.

I'm not sure if any of you do this too, but partner A will ask partner B if they are wrapped up and ready to leave, and partner A says " Yes " and they begin their trek to the registers.

Inevitably someone will get distracted by lighting fixtures or paint brushes or duct tape or whatever and then BAM...another twenty minutes have passed and twenty five more dollars worth of stuff is added to the cart.

I suppose part of it might be that ol' false sense of Bob Vila-ness that The Depot inspires.

I fall victim to the Vila-itis sometimes.

I'll see some neato thing to improve our home and I get all starry eyed and in my head I've got 150 recessed lights strategically placed all over our house.

This would be one of the times that The Mister keeps me from swinging on the crazy tree. Or perhaps provides me with the oft needed reality check. You wonder why The Mister looks older than me..... he has to spend fifteen minutes explaining to me that you just can't go throwing recessed lights up in the ceiling like it ain't no thang.....

The Depot has reworked their customer service and the employees are TOO FREAKING HAPPY to ask you if they can help you find anything or order $5oo worth of custom glass tile or can we load a pallet of 1x6's into your trunk or how 'bout some nice paint......

And I'm all like " Gee, they're so nice here...."

The Mister says the old dudes in the orange aprons fall all over themselves to help me because, as I've said previously, I've got some all-star melons.

::::: sigh :::::

I need to stay away from The Depot.

Happy Saturday !

XoXo
Bunny

Retro Music Friday - The Mister's Fan Club, Population One And A Half.

2009-11-13T22:25:00.003-05:00

So it seems our niece has some mad, mad love for her Uncle. There is a picture of The Mister on her fridge and it has been related to us that she will frequently point to her Uncle and say " Dat's Bwock. "

The fun doesn't end there.....

She got a toy cell phone for her birthday and, I suppose due largely to her female DNA, ( not stereotyping here but..) she loves to talk on her phone. When asked whom she is speaking, she replies " I tawking to Bwock. "

However, should one try to pry the phone from her hands the shrieking begins;

" NOOOOO ! I TAWKING TO BWOCK ! NOOO ! "

So to avoid the shrieking she now gets to sleep with her phone.

Wait, there's more.....

After she's gone off to bed ( with her phone ) she lies in bed on her back with her little legs bent up, resting one leg over the other, chatting with " Bwock ".

Word is these " conversations " are quite lengthy.

I think the allure to Uncle The Mister lies in the fact that he seems to be the only person she regularly talks to on the phone.

I suppose that's kind of a big thing in the life of a toddler. You know, someone on the phone that actually WANTS to talk to you.

She and her parents will be coming for Christmas this year, so it'll be interesting to see how our niece reacts to the live version of Uncle Bwock.

With regard to The Mister's fan club, I am the One, my niece is the Half.

I heard Livin' La Vida Loca twice on the radio this week. But instead of torturing all of you with LLVL, I am giving you..........

The Cup Of Life from the 1999 Grammy's. I remember watching this on TV at the time and was quite impressed with Ricky Martin's performance.

Why are all the hot ones gay ?

::::::::sigh:::::::::::

Originally released in 1998 as a part of the World Cup being held in France that year.

Uncle Bwock and I got married in 1998. We were both 22.

I still look 22.

The Mister, well........ guys just get more distinguished with age don't they ?

Women just get old.

The Mister does not like the the fact that I look.....ummm.......more than a few years younger than he. I'm actually older than him, but our age difference is negligible at best.

When The Miser gets his panties in a twist over our perceived age difference, I put it to him like this......people probably think he must be hot stuff to have a trophy wife such as myself.

XOXO

Bunny

You Know Things Are Bad When You Fuck Up " Rock Bottom ".

2009-11-10T20:58:00.004-05:00

I had a shitty day today.

Migraine inducing shitty.

The kind of day that makes you seriously contemplate starting your life over somewhere else.

Due to the shit-ness of my day, I left work early.

Much to my chagrin it still took me an hour to get home, even though I left work EARLY.

Last night it took me an hour and forty minutes to get home.

Do you know what an hour and forty minute commute will do to a person ?

Yeah........not pretty.

But I digress.

I had to stop at the liquor store on my way home.

Three Olives was on sale at this particular store and I promised Mumbles that I'd pick her up a bottle, or two...and perhaps a bottle for myself.

So, as I was saying, due to the shit-ness of my day I left work EARLY and went to the liquor store on my way home.

I should say that the shit-ness of my day did not precipitate my stopping at the packie. I was going to go there anyway, regardless of how my day went.

The sale on Three Olives ended today.

So, again, due to the shit-ness of my day I had myself a good, ol' fashioned cry on the way home.

My good, ol' fashioned cry continued as I walked into the liquor store ( in through the out door out door thankyouverymuch..) and proceeded to purchase $60 worth of vodka while crying.

See....I thought buying $60 worth of vodka while crying was the clear definition
of " Rock Bottom ".

According to The Mister buying $60 worth of vodka while crying is not " Rock Bottom ".

According to The Mister " Rock Bottom " is buying a $4 bottle of vodka while crying and not wearing any shoes.

I guess this gives me something to strive for.

XOXO
Bunny.

Eleven Years, One Month And Five Days.

2009-11-09T21:32:00.006-05:00

That's how long The Mister and I have been married as of today.

He still blows my hair back to this day.

He's a heck of a guy.

Really.

He cooks me the breakfast of my choosing every Saturday.

Like....whatever I request....BAM ! There it is on a plate.

And it's usually followed with " You want some juice honey ? "

I've told him that he really doesn't have to cook me breakfast every Saturday.

But he's shared with me that he actually likes cooking me breakfast.

Wow.

I'm a spoiled brat, I know.

I've stopped telling people that he makes me breakfast every Saturday.

Nate said I was a little smug about it and people were starting to hate me.

What else ??

Ahhh.....

He's the only person who has made laugh so hard that I peed my pants ( just a drip ).

He's sent me flowers at work FOR NO REASON !

Umm.....

He thinks my idiosyncrasies are genuinely cute.

Like that time I was SO SICK of the potato masher getting stuck in the kitchen drawer I threw it out on the porch.
He actually laughed.

Or that time I tried to shut the screen in the guestroom window and I struggled with it for ten minutes before it finally fell two stories to the ground - and I then went outside to the backyard and picked up the screen, flung it across the yard like a Frisbee and flipped it off.

Yup, he laughed again.

For the record, my Mother would not find any of the aforementioned antics amusing.

I will also say that there is no other human on Earth who knows me like he does.

I cannot BS him.

At all.

Ever.

Sometimes he's almost psychic.

Like earlier this evening.......

We'd gone to the Polish deli across town the other day. Needless to say with the endless variety of smoked meats and unidentifiable things wrapped in cabbage leaves ( I gave him a stern warning about a dutch oven ) The Mister was in heaven.
Polish smoked meat and cabbage wrapped heaven.

Me ?

I love the cookies. Bring me cookies from a far away land and I am in Nestle Nirvana.

Wanna know what else I love about this man ?

The fact that I can wander the aisles of the Polish deli and load up with numerous boxes of cookies and when the basket gets heavy I hand it over to him and he takes it.
No questions asked.

But anyways.....

I cracked open a box of Polish cookies earlier this evening and helped myself to one cookie.

Coconut and Caramel with shortbread.

Quite tasty, btw.

I remarked how tasty the cookie was to The Mister.

After a few minutes I wandered back into the kitchen as he was setting the coffee maker....
( yep, he sets the coffee maker every night too...... I'll just shut up now.....I'm sure you're all tasting vomit in the backs of your throats by now.....)

and this was my post-cookie remark greeting;

" Back for another cookie, huh ? "

I told y'all.......... HE KNOWS !

HOW DOES HE KNOW !!??

XOXO
Bunny

P.S.
The 14th anniversary of our 1st date is next month.

A Big Shout Out To Whomever My Guardian Angel Is.......

2009-11-08T18:51:00.004-05:00

I ( and several other motorists ) was almost killed, or at the very least maimed, in a car accident today.

I realize that I have a-not-altogether-undeserved reputation for being a wee bit of a drama queen, but I AM NOT being trivial or flip when I say that I ( and several others ) was nearly killed, or at the very least maimed, in a car accident today.

I'm serious - I ( and others ) was thisclose to being the top story on the six o'clock news.

I was driving on 128 North in Westwood this morning when I saw a brown blur fly horizontally across the highway from the high speed lane to the the breakdown lane.

As I took .6 seconds to look to figure out WTF that flying, brown blur was ( and realize that it was a very large deer ) I looked forward to see that all the cars in front of me have come to a near complete stop from roughly seventy-five MPH.

The brake lights on the car in front of me got VERY LARGE, VERY FAST.

I don't even know if there is a word, or sequence of words, to describe how fast and hard I slammed the brake pedal to the floor.
I think I had both feet on the pedal.
I can't really be sure though.

My ABS kicked in and the car vibrated.

The back of the car fish-tailed.

I heard the tires screech.

The tires of the cars around me all screeched as well.

Everything that was in the seats or in the back of the Highlander, came FLYING forward and hit the backs of the seat in front of it, the dash and the windshield.

I braced my arms stiff against the steering wheel and prepared for the impact.

After a few seconds I realized that there was no sound of crunching metal or breaking glass, so I opened my eyes.

Nobody hit anybody else.

Oh. My. God.

I have no Earthly clue how there was not a twelve car pile up on 128 North this morning.

The only accident appeared to have been the poor folks in the Volkswagon who hit the deer.

The folks in the VW appeared to have escaped physically unharmed, although there's no doubt that they were very shaken up.

I won't tell you about the deer because, well, it's pretty effing traumatic.

I'm still trying to get the visual out of my head.

It took me the rest of my drive to my client's house to catch my breath...about three miles.

I shook with adrenaline for almost another hour.

Then I was exhausted.

Oh. My. God.

So, to my Guardian Angel....... You my friend are getting a VERY LARGE BONUS this holiday season.

XOXO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday - Twitter Style.

2009-11-06T21:57:00.005-05:00

I'm going to attempt today's post like Twitter, in 140 characters or less.

I hope this works.......

Here's some bullets.....

* The Mister and I were in Target yesterday. He suggested we buy a board game, I told him I didn't care which one he picked. He suggested " Mattress Twister, The Whips and Chains Edition. " Perv.

* Don't read Amelia Bedelia after two drinks. I think the larger statement Amelia Bedelia makes it that one should not underestimate the power of a really great pie.
P.S. I think Amelia might be a little MR. " Drawing the Drapes ? " " Dressing the Chicken ? " WTF !

* Wind Shield replacement costs out of pocket in RI. BOO !

* Once you start clucking like a chicken it's REALLY hard to stop ! ADDICTING !

* Good rule of thumb; If you don't understand something don't try to eat it or put it on your body. This applies mostly to food and clothing - but use it at your discretion.

* I lost a CD I burned. Poof. Gone. Couldn't find it for the life of me. Was cleaning out the car the other day and heard a voice say " Look under the seat dumbass ! " Guess what ? THERE IT WAS ! I WAS SO HAPPY !

* The lost then found CD had one of my favorite songs from back in the day on it. Check it on the video.

* Punk Rock Girl by The Dead Milkmen. Loved this during my purple-hair-Doc-Martens phase. Listened to it 12 x in a row after I found the CD. Released in 1988. I was 12. Enjoy.

XOXOX
Bunny

The Best Tweet Ever.

2009-11-02T19:38:00.002-05:00

I often wish everyone else in the world would disappear. Not die, just disappear. Then I remember--there'd be no tailors to fix my slacks.
5:46 PM Jul 25th from web

Courtesy of Andy Rooney, via Twitter.

xoxoxo
Bunny

P.S. Andy Rooney's Twitter page/account/profile is HERE.

I Don't Even Know Where To Start......

2009-11-01T22:00:00.006-05:00

Um..... I really don't mind making salad. And, ahhhh.....I don't know about you folks, but I LIKE my Tuna sandwiches boring. Tuna is supposed to be boring. A Tuna Melt is about as stimulating as I'd like tuna to be. My life is exciting enough as it is.....remember, I've been attacked by a squirrel.

That breakfast stuff ? If someone served that to me and called it " breakfast " I'd probably throw it at them. That's not " breakfast ", that looks like shit you'd feed a rabbit.

And with regard to pizza toppings.......I'm gonna go all Gen X Betty Crocker on your asses for a minute......if you're feeling the itch to make pizza, but are as incredibly lazy as I am it is TOTALLY OK to grab a bunch of stuff from the salad bar at your local supermarket and toss it on a crust. Perfectly acceptable, I'm telling you.

Last but not least Dear Shamwow guy....... I'm gonna bet that me loving your nuts is not gonna happen in this lifetime. Not if you were the last guy on Earth.

I mean, if you and Woody Allen were the last two dudes on Earth.......well, I bet I'd have first hand knowledge as to why Woody's name is " Woody ".

In fact, I'm pretty sure that it's guys like you that turn women into Lesbians.

Dude gives me the creeps. There is something downright skeevy about this guy.

Bleech.

Happy Sunday All !

GO PHILLIES !

XOXO

Bunny

In Regard To The Unfunny Shit My Dad Says.

2009-10-29T19:09:00.004-04:00

My Dad always had, and still has now that I think about it, this saying that he uses quite frequently.

Wanna hear it ??

I knew ya did !

Here goes;

This is verbatim, btw......

" DAMN IT, DON'T GO CRAZY ! "

This phrase has multiple applications. He mostly uses it in situations where there is the potential for any type of excessive behavior. I seem to recall him using it most in situations where food was involved.
For example, say if....my Mom happened to be working late one night and my Dad had decided to take my sister and I out for pizza " DAMN IT, DON'T GO CRAZY ! " might be used if we ( my sister and I ) perhaps expressed an interest in a pizza with pepperoni AND mushrooms.
See, the pepperoni was ok....but add the " AND mushrooms " part and the world might shift position on its axis.
Ice cream ? A cup of vanilla is ok. A bit of hot fudge on top ? You're still in the clear... Whipped cream ? The situation's getting iffy. Chopped nuts ? STOP RIGHT THERE MISSY !
See, 'cause chopped nuts = anarchy.

He's got other much used phrases, but today we're just going to cover " DAMN IT, DON'T GO CRAZY ! "

:::::Sigh::::::

My Dad is a Leo. Leos are, for all intents and purposes, Vanilla. There shall be no excess of any sort, at least not when they're in the room. The other thing about Leos....they are pathologically unable to Shut Up. It's true. No really, I'm serious.
My Dad will get going on a subject and there is just no stopping him. Just when your eyes begin to glaze over and wonder how much longer they're ( any leo ) going to go on, they stop talking. And you may think to yourself " Thank God that's over ! ", but then you realize that they're just stopping to take a breath and then they're all like " Where was I ? " and the dissertation starts right back up again.

I dare ya, dear Internet, go find a Leo. They.Never.Stop.Talking.

Speaking of " Going Crazy "...as I am sitting here writing this I am drinking Diet Dr. Pepper with Vodka and eating cold mashed potatoes.

Does that constitute " Going Crazy " ??

Eh, probably not.

Oh well, have a good night !

XOOXO
Bunny

P.S. I'm still trying to figure out what happened to Jody Watley. Oh yeah, and Jon Knight ? Yep, you guessed it.....STILL HOT.

'Cause The Shit My Dad Says Isn't That Funny

2009-10-28T20:29:00.003-04:00

Ok, so there is this guy on Twitter named Justin. His Twitter page, if that's what you even call them....Twitter account ? Twitter Profile ?

I'm not sure.......

At any rate.....I stumbled across shitmydadsays via Christina Applegate's ( don't ask. ) Twitter page/account/profile.

In a nutshell, Justin's Dad is apparently quite awesome and Justin, as the name of his page/account/profile implies, Tweets all the awesome shit his dad says.

Here is a little sample;

"You're being fucking dramatic. You own a TV and an air mattress. That's not exactly what I'd call "a lot to lose."
10:03 AM Oct 5th

Do yourselves a favor and go over to shitmydadsays and have a laugh.

The Mister and I are HUGE fans.

XOXO
Bunny

Messin' With Sasquatch a.k.a Drunk Blogging.

2009-10-25T23:08:00.015-04:00

Disclaimer: I am not drunk yet. But I have an ice cold screwdriver in hand and in all reality I will be half in the bag by the time I finish this post.

I prefer not to call this a " drinking problem " . I think of it as homeopathically pretreating any H1N1 Flu that may choose to reside in my body. Bacteria doesn't grow in things that are pickled, right ? My pickling spices of choice happen to be nacho chip crumbs.

And the vitamin C in the OJ guarantees me nary a cold bug will settle within any orifice of my body.

First off, let me tell all of you that my Sweet Emmsie and her fellow tennis teammates won the state champs for their division yesterday.

WOOT WOOT ! GO EMMSIE !!!!!

**Sniff Sniff** I'm so proud !

Later on in the afternoon, after watching a dozen or so sixteen year-old girls fill up their bellies at TGI McFunster's, I found myself at my Aunt's house.

While comfortably seated on my Aunt's sofa she gave me permission to use Nate's....

Memba Nate ?

My Aunt, his mother, let me use his laptop to cruise the interwebs. As I am not one to miss a golden opportunity I took the time to change the wallpaper on his laptop. Previous to my tampering he had lovely picture of the solar system as his wallpaper.......YAWN.

My pathological need to " liven things up " resulted in my setting our friends at Sesame Street as the wallpaper on Nate's ThinkPad.

Bert and Ernie.......total homos. Platonic roommates my ass !

Cookie Monster ? Eating disorder.

Grover ? Delusional. Super Grover ??

Big Bird has " Mommy Issues ", why else would he not have ever had a lady friend ? I mean come on, Big Bird was a catch ! He had is OWN NEST for Pete's Sake ! He's wasn't some scrub living in the basement at Mom's nest ! Although I do think he had unrequited love for Maria.

The Count ? Only gay men wear capes.

Oh yeah, and Oscar the Grouch ? Anger Management problems and issues with Authority Figures. I think he might have been a bit of a Borderline, with agoraphobic tendencies.

But back to Nate. He wasn't home when I changed the wallpaper. In fact, I did not see him at all while I was at my Aunt's house. But something tells me that he will figure out it was myself who changed his laptop wallpaper and I'm gonna bet that at a later date I will be intimately acquainted with the linoleum on my Aunt's kitchen floor. Perhaps with an arm or two pinned behind my back. That's just how Nate rolls.

:::::::Sigh::::::::::

The Mister and I went to a Halloween party Saturday with my friend " K " and her BF " J ". I'm sure you'd all be totally shocked to know that my costume was so obscure that nobody....I mean NOBODY got it.

I was Stacy London.

I even sent The Mister out for white hair colorant spray so I could even have the gray streak in my hair. I wasn't playing yo.

NO BOD EEE got it. Wait, I stand corrected.... The Mister got it. As did K's BF J.

See, there is a guy at work....he works in a different department and well, we sort of became friendly over the past year or so....

GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER PEOPLE ! IT'S NOT LIKE THAT !

See, the guy at work is going to be Clinton

and I'm going to be Stacy at work this coming Friday.

I'm going to have to tell " Clinton " to bring his A-Game on Friday,

Cause my Stacy is FIERCE !

Fingers crossed someone will have to foresight to take pictures.

XOXOXO

Bunny

P.S.

The " Sasquatch " referenced in the title is Nate. Due to his size ( 6'4" ) and the depth of his voice I felt this was an appropriate moniker.

Wherein We Begin Buying Geritol At Costco.

2009-10-24T15:21:00.014-04:00

This morning I ran across an article in the style section of The Huffington Post. The content of the article was little retro rewind of sorts to all of our favorite MTV lady Vj's from back in the day.
I called The Mister over as I thought that he'd enjoy the little trip down memory lane as much as I did.

Upon reviewing the rundown of the lady Vj's....well, lets just say I can tell who is going to " turn his crank ",for lack of a better term, before he even opens his mouth.

Me: So, ahhh.... how 'bout that Karen Duffy ? "

The Mister: Ooohhh yeah. She was SO.DAMN.HOT. ( The Mister has a serious weakness for well dressed, saucy brunettes......hence yours truly )

I then went on to push the envelope a bit further.

Me: I betcha think Martha Quinn is cute too..... (He also has a place in his heart for cutesie, girl-next-door types )

The Mister: Yeah, I'd hit that.

We continued the conversation a bit later on in the kitchen while The Mister was cooking breakfast.

Me: I wonder what ever happened to Martha Quinn ?

The Mister: I dunno. Why don't you see what you can find out online ?

After a quick Internet search I found out that Martha Quinn reportedly hosts a radio show on XM satellite radio, lives in CA and is a Mother of two. And she's fifty years old.
Yep, Martha Quinn is fifty.

I reported my findings back to The Mister.

Me: Hey, Martha Quinn hosts a radio show on XM.

The Mister: That's cool.

Me: She's got two kids and she lives in California.

The Mister: Oh yeah ?

Me: She's fifty years old.

The Mister: WHAT ?

Me: Martha Quinn is fifty.

** slight conversational pause **

The Mister: I feel nauseous.

** further conversational pause **

The Mister: Fuck. We're old.

To read the article for yourselves please CLICK HERE.

_______________________________________

Sometimes I watch the show Flipping Out on Bravo. I love looking at the architecture and interior design of the houses they try to unload. I also watch the show because I can't quite believe how much of an anal retentive, pain in the ass Jeff Lewis is.
I recall one episode where he and his assistant Jenni were asked to house sit, in a manner of speaking, for a friend.

They went to check on the house as requested and while there he ( Jeff ) proceeded to rearrange her furniture. He felt that she ( the friend he was " house sitting " for ) could have made better use of her home's space.
He then went on to run her dishwasher and while he was at it he cleaned out underneath her kitchen sink. The entire time he's doing this he's going on and on to Jenni ( although I think Jenni blocks out a certain percentage of what he says to save her sanity ) about their friend's cleanliness, or lack thereof.

" Ugh, when is the last time she even looked under here. Look at this...lets just throw this away, gross. My God, does she not organize ? There is just stuff thrown in here. "

All the while Jenni is trying her damnedest to get him to leave her cabinets alone.

And I'm watching this thinking;

Jeez, who goes into their friend's houses and like, cleans and rearranges their furniture ? That is sooooo over the top. Really, there is no need.

Yeah.....wanna know who goes to their friend's house and rearranges their shit and cleans up after them ?

I do.

I have gone to my friend's houses and rearranged their living room furniture, their dining room furniture and just last night I cleaned another friend's kitchen ( my finger stuck to the hood over his stove. something had to be done ). And this isn't even all the same friend ! I've done this to multiple friends. Yet, they still seem to hold some measure of affection for me.

I can't decide if my friends are lazy and are only too happy to have me tidy up after them or if this little idiosyncrasy I have really irritates them, perhaps the only thing saving me from a shovel to the back of the skull is my unbelievable cuteness.

Happy Saturday All !

XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday - Yes, I Am A Real Person.

2009-10-23T08:05:00.003-04:00

I attended a birthday party for one of our former clients last night. He's been in a residence for about a year now, which has proven to be a wonderful transition for him. He seems like he's a lot happier these days, he looks fantastic, I could go on and on.
Like they say in adoption lingo, he's found his " forever family ".

At any rate, I've worked with this client on and off for years. He loves to tag along with me wherever I happen to be going. I have been known to pick him up at his residence and take him along with me to Home Depot or The Christmas Tree Shop, etc, even when I'm not working. As I said, he's always happy to tag along and follow me around The Depot pushing the cart for me.

Apparently he talks about me. Quite a bit. To everyone he knows.

I should backtrack a bit here........ this particular client has lived in the same town for years. He knows EVERYONE. He's practically the mayor. He knows most of the cops, the pizza place owner, the sub shop owner, the jewelry store owner, the bike shop owner, the liquor store owner.....he even knows Steve Grogan.

As I was saying, I showed up at his residence last night with birthday gift in hand. The woman who runs the residence told him that I had arrived and....he went totally silent. And his cheeks got a little flush. It was too freakin cute.
I guess he had been waiting for me, perhaps not so patiently.
I'm beginning to get the impression that he's got a wee bit of a crush on me.

At any rate, there was a point in the evening that the woman who runs his residence introduced me to other party attendees that I did not know. One woman, the Reverend from the church he used to work at, and I exchanged pleasantries and she then went on to say;

" So you're (___), he talks about you ALL THE TIME. I'm so happy that you're a real person and you know, not imaginary. It's so nice to finally put a face with a name. "

The pizza shop owner also showed up and upon my meeting him he exclaimed;

" Oh, so you're (____) ! He never stops talking about you. It's nice to finally meet you ! "

So yeah, I am real.

In case you were wondering, I bought him two fedoras for his birthday. He looks like a total badass in them.

Onto RMF......

I changed the answer tone on my phone a few days ago. My friend " K " called me at one point this week and expressed to me that she liked my new answer tone very much. She was the catalyst for me changing my answer tone in the first place. My previous answer tone was " I'm Every Woman " by Chaka Khan. At one point " K " shared with me that she understood why I chose " I'm Every Woman ", because, in fact, I am every woman and yes, anything you want done baby, I'll do it naturally.
She went on to tell me that although she really identified with the female empowerment themes in the song, she was getting really tired of " Chaka screaming in my ear. "

So, my new answer tone is Rapper's Delight by The Sugar Hill Gang.

" K " is not originally from this country and sometimes I have to explain American pop culture things to her. Like that Rapper's Delight was considered to be the first commercially successful rap song. I then went onto explain that Rapture by Blondie is sometimes credited with making rap more accepted on mainstream radio at that time.

She was not familiar with Rapture by Blondie - but I'm not really surprised. But sometimes it blows my mind that she can give me a PhD worthy explanation of Negative Transference, but she doesn't know Rapture by Blondie.

So anyway, today's RMF is Rapture by Blondie. I'm not able to embed a video so please CLICK HERE.

I should also tell you that The Mister has shared with me that Debbie Harry was the woman whom started him noticing girls. Yep, The Mister's seven year old self had a thing for Debbie Harry.

XOXO
Bunny

The Untitled Post.

2009-10-20T19:58:00.003-04:00

Remember my cousin Nate from a few posts ago ? I saw Nate today.....he's well, thanks for asking. Anyway, I saw Nate today. He sat down across from me at Papa Gino's and said;

" Guess what Aaron did ? " ( Aaron is Nate's younger brother..)

As I am very familiar with Aaron and his many eccentricities and idiosyncrasies I stared blankly at Nate for a few minutes. The wheels of my brain spun into overdrive as I attempted to guess what is was that Aaron did. I really had no idea. I could not even begin to make an attempt to make the slightest guess as to what it was that he had done.

For those not familiar, Aaron is one of my 1st cousins. He is a genius. I do not use that term lightly. He really is a genius. He left HS after his junior year to attend college. He studies AstroPhysics in the HONORS program at UMass. I'll write that again.....he studies ASTROPHYSICS in the HONORS PROGRAM.
His internship this summer was helping a professor at CalTech disprove one of Einstein's theories of whatever it was that Einstein had theories about.
He made himself an apparatus that launches produce ( potatoes, apples, what have you...) the length of two football fields.
Genius I tell ya.

At any rate, it was in that instant that I could no longer hold onto the hope that I was adopted and that my real parents ( with YACHTS ! and BUTLERS ! ) would be coming to claim me at any minute.

I share way too much DNA with these people.

'Cause when I say " Guess what happened to me ? " it is the same thing as when others say " Guess what Aaron did ? ". The answer to either question is usually....well......something that causes the listener to question their sense of reality.

Aaron had, from what I could gather, felt lonely at UMass. The days are getting shorter, he spends the majority of his time studying ASTROPHYSICS in the HONORS program. I can totally understand his perceived loneliness.

Where as most of us ( except for myself and Aaron...) would have sought out a social activity, or and/or perhaps seek out a SO Aaron chose to.........

drumroll please...................................

Purchase himself two ferrets.

He named them Bonnie & Clyde.

Yep....ferrets.

Sounds like something I'd do, huh ?

I would have named them George & Wheezy though.

XOXO
Bunny

Why I Love Dan Savage.

2009-10-18T20:37:00.002-04:00

Most Columnists would have read the following questions in their email inbox and promptly flagged it for deletion.

But not Dan Savage.

No, no. Dan Savage is not at all afraid to tackle the tough questions.

Like this one;

Dear Dan,

A question in the spirit of the season: Can zombie sex ever be consensual? Because I think if confronted with a zombified Zac Efron, I might go for it if he were properly restrained. Can you teach a zombie a safe word? Does it count if it's "braaaains"? It's not necrophilia with the WALKING dead, is it? What would you say is the sexual morality of this situation?

Hope In Zombie Zac If Ethical

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear HIZZIE,

If you'd seen Zombieland, HIZZIE, you'd know that a hot person, once transformed into a zombie, isn't hot anymore. A pretty girl is bitten by a zombie, falls asleep in the arms of Zombieland's nebbishy hero, and awakes as a thoroughly hideous flesh-eating monster. Even a zombified Zac Efron—I'm going to resist making the obvious joke here—would be too repulsive to fuck. Think of the gore, the viscera; think of the Axe body spray.

As for the morality of the situation, fucking zombies—the walking dead—is necrophilia, technically speaking, but practically speaking, it comes closer to bestiality. A human being who has been zombified is nothing but an animal, hungry for brains, incapable of thought much less consent. We can kill animals for their flesh, but we mustn't fuck them, HIZZIE; and we can kill zombies for wanting our flesh, but likewise we mustn't fuck them.

So there you have it kids.....fucking zombies is just plain wrong.

Xoooo

Bunny

Nate.

2009-10-17T21:35:00.002-04:00

This is my cousin Nate.

He's been making this very same face since he was born.

No witty insights or funny tales to tell today.

Just Nate.

Bunny

Why I'm Not On Twitter.

2009-10-14T19:49:00.006-04:00

I'm sure there are some people out there who are not the least bit pleased that The Mister bought me a phone with a full keyboard not too long ago.
Back when I had to use the number buttons to spell out words I had to feel really strongly about the message I was sending. It took a long time to spell out what I wanted to express as I tend to be, well, quite wordy.

The fact that I now have a full keyboard means that I have the ability to really harass the crap out of people.

The other night The Mister made the comparison that I was not unlike Matt Damon's character in Good Will Hunting. The only really difference between myself and Will is that my genius lends itself to words, not numbers.
We're, me and " Will ", both extreme cases of MassHoles. Peace, Love, Go Fuck Yourself and say Hi to your Mother for me.

At any rate, my friend Anthony sent me a link to his band's website. They're having a show this weekend and the email included the deets of the show. I've been somewhat remiss as a friend as Anthony has invited me to many a show, but I've yet to attend one.

Hey Anthony, STOP HAVING SHOWS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT !

Just kidding !

It is the intent of The Mister and I to attend the show this weekend.

And just so y'all know, Anthony was " in tha hizzous " when The Mister drank himself into a stupor on Bushmills and passed out on the porch.

I cruised the band's site for a bit and further went on to discover that his band is on Rhapsody.

Needless to say, I was duly impressed.

So I shot Anthony a text;

Me: HOLY FUCK ! Your ass is on Rhapsody ! HOLY FUCK !

And I got a response;

Anthony: Is it just my ass ?! I could have sworn my balls were on there too.

And so on and so forth;

Me: Turkey.

Anthony: What ?

Me: You're a turkey.

Anthony: I love turkey. Why am I a turkey ?

Me: Please don't take my referring to you as domesticated poultry as an insult. Ben Franklin felt very strongly that the turkey should have been our national symbol. I was merely implying that your comment regarding your balls being on Rhapsody was in a manner of speaking, quite silly.
I was genuinely impressed that that you have your music published on a national music service. You should have recognized my impressedness with the capitalization and use of exclamation points with regard to the repeated use of the word FUCK.

Anthony: That was the best txt message ever. Thank u for being so impressed. I forgot about the balls thing :-) but they recorded a duo record that I swore was on there..... oh, and we're on iTunes too !

Me: When you say " we're " on iTunes do you mean you and your band mates or you and your genitalia ? If your ass and balls ever decided to do a cover tune perhaps they might want to consider " Stuck In The Middle With You " by Stealer's Wheel.

Anthony: I just lol'd really loudly. I'll run that suggestion by the " boys ".

Me: You know I'm going to turn this entire exchange into a blog post.

If there was a PhD in Wiseass - I'd be Stephen Hawking.

XO
Bunny

This Year's Hottest Christmas Toy - Jailbird Elmo.

2009-10-12T20:38:00.014-04:00

Do you recall me sharing with you that I had spent the first weekend of October in NYC with my best-est ( we'll try spelling it with a hyphen this time....) cousin Steph and her shall-remain-nameless daughter ?

Yeah ? We all on the same page ?
Ok then. On with the story.

Let me set the scene for y'all.....

On our last collective night in the city we went to dinner at a very seen-and-be-seen restaurant in The Village. Dinner was fabulous. The service was superb. I have nothing but wonderful things to say about this particular restaurant.....I'm kissing my fingers like some sort of stereotyped portly Italian chef in a crappy, late 80's Disney movie here........ MWAH !

At any rate, as she had been feeling out the increasing independence that comes with turning the big 1-6 over the course of the weekend, Nameless requested that she be allowed to hail a cab ( on her own ) in order for the three of us to return back to our hotel. Mom of course says " Go for it ! " and lo and behold the very first cab pulls over to whisk us back to Midtown. Beginner's Luck.

The previous day, after Nameless and I had decided that we were SO DONE with walking, we'd decided to get a cab back to the hotel rather than walk the 30-something blocks from Union Square back to Midtown. Mom didn't protest the cab plan and did her part to aide in the cab hailing. Although she did claim that she was totally prepared to walk the 30-something blocks back to the hotel. She felt fine and it was a lovely day. Really, I'm convinced she was a Sherpa in a past life.

Me ? I'm convinced I was an eccentric, European millionairess with multiple small, yapping dogs who is perpetually wardrobed in a colorful caftan, does the double cheek kiss and can't be bothered to learn people's names so she refers to everyone as " Dahling " in a past life.

But I digress.

No cab stopped despite my standing halfway into the street. Time to hatch Plan B. Not sure if Nameless saw me do this or not, but I unzipped my hoodie to show the girls off in order to expedite the cab hailing process. Hey, don't judge ok ? We were desperate and needed the money...I mean a cab. Eventually a cab did pull over and an uneventful ride to Midtown ensued.

So by the night in question Nameless had seen her Mom and myself hail a cab or two and felt that she had the routine down.

Where was I ????
Oh yeah, uneventful cab ride back to Midtown......

Which is exactly the kind of cab ride one wants to have in Manhattan. Uneventful. Boring even.
If you ask someone how their cab ride was and they start out by saying " Hoo Boy !! LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE CAB RIDE ! " those stories never end well. It usually ends with someone saying " And then the cops showed up..."

^ Major foreshadowing there ^

So after our lovely dinner on our last collective night in the city we had an uneventful, boring even, cab ride back to the hotel. Sometime during this ride, me in my still buzzed from two screwdrivers on a mostly empty stomach state decided that I needed some chocolate. And I decided Nameless was going to be my accomplice in the procurement of said chocolate.

Our hotel was not two blocks from Times Square. And for those not familiar Times Square, like a hooker's legs, never closes.

We, Steph, Nameless and I, had taken a spin around Times Square two nights before so Nameless was well aware that there was both a Hershey and M&M's store in Times Square.
Mom walked with us to the corner and bid us " farewell " as she had decided that she's had enough fun for one day and would not be joining us on our sojourn to Times Sq.

Nameless and I trotted off to TS to acquire chocolate.

Nameless is a lovely, energetic, charismatic young lady who walks in practically a skip. She bounds down the street all lovely and whatnot, her hair bouncing along with a mind of its own. She largely resembles a young Farrah Fawcett. I had to fight the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and command that she " STAY AWAY FROM THAT FREAK RYAN O'NEAL ! HE'S NOTHING BUT TROUBLE ! "
But I knew that would have ended with her giving me that puzzled yet concerned look I get from most of my coworkers and would have elicited Nameless sheepishly asking " Umm....who's Ryan O'Neal ? "

::::::sigh::::::::

Ok, back to the chocolate and Times Sq.

Earlier at dinner I was trying my damnedest to be my very best well behaved self ( I'd been warned by The Mister to " Behave " as I boarded the bus to NYC. Which is an entire blog post unto itself ). Over the course of the entire weekend I'd recalled countless, off-color anecdotes that I wanted to share with Steph and I'd begin to giggle and open my mouth to relate the anecdote, but then remember that I was in the presence of Nameless. So I'd self censor and keep the anecdote to myself.

For nearly three solid days I would laugh, open my mouth, sigh with disappointment and shut my mouth again.
I'm sure people passing me on the street must have thought I was mentally ill.

As I was saying, I was trying my damnedest to behave myself during dinner. However after two screwdrivers all bets are off. I began to relate my funniest of funny anecdotes from the past year. Sort of a Best Of Bunny & The Mister, if you will. This particular anecdote was a pretty lengthy one that involved my Grandmother receiving hospice care, my sister calling me crying and The Mister drunk in the ball pit at McDonald's and then The Mister drunk verbally abusing my sister while perched on the hood of her car.

Nameless listened intently as I told my tale of drunk debauchery in McDonald's. She was as if she'd discovered Real Sex on HBO after Mom and Dad had long gone to sleep. Like she knew that this, the entirely true stories of two drunk Gen-X DINKs with a serious Oreo habit, was something she should not be paying attention to. But somehow the luridness in my recounting of the events of that evening was something she could not tear herself away from.

I think she was secretly happy to be trotting off to Times Square with someone other than her Mom. Especially since she's seen me in the new light of one of my " Best Of " anecdotes.

I know, I know. Chocolate. Times Square. I'm getting there.

Nameless was under the impression that we were heading back for either the Hershey or M&M store....but I felt that this was a good time to impart a little economics lesson. Which was, those of us with jobs and bills who have to spend our own money on chocolate go to Walgreen's to buy Reese's Peanut butter cups for 3 for $2, rather than spend $2.50 for one package at the Hershey's store.

And yes, in case you were wondering, there is a Times Sq. Walgreen's and yes, I purchased a round of RPB Cups. One for me, one for Nameless and one for Steph.

But before we even made it to Walgreen's we ran into.......GASP.......ELMO ! HOLY CRAP ! IT WAS ELMO ! RIGHT.IN.TIMES.SQUARE !

Nameless decided the a nice end of the sentence to her weekend in NYC was to have her picture taken with Elmo. For some reason she decided that I was the adult in charge in this particular situation and asked me if it would be alright if she got her picture taken with the Red Furry One.
And in my head I was all like " Why the flip are you asking my permission ?? "

I guess I am so used to my sweet Emmsie, who is sweet ( when she wants to be ), but has that surly, snarky exterior that scares ice road truckers, longshoremen and the occasional Hell's Angel.
Had Nameless and Emmsie somehow gone all Parent Trap on me in that exact moment I would have totally caught onto the whole switcharoo as Emmsie would have thrown the camera at me an told me to take her picture. Like, do it now. I'm not asking you again. That's even if she had the inclination to get her picture taken with Elmo in the first place. Realistically I think she would have walked past him and told Elmo what a pathetic loser he was and to get a real job.

I tell Nameless that it would be my pleasure to take her picture with Elmo. As she waited for Ricky and Bobbie-Lee from Omaha to finish up with Elmo Nameless notices that people are handing Elmo a dollar or two as a tip.
She expresses her concern to me that she's only in possession of bills far too large to tip Elmo. I tell her not to worry, that I, the adult in charge **snicker** ,will give her a dollar for proper compensation of future photographic acquisitions.

Nameless sees it is her turn to snuggle up to Elmo and smile big for the camera. Two quick flashes we were in possession of two stupendous pics of Nameless and Elmo.
Nameless, with her signature skip, came bouncing the twelve feet or so back to me to deposit the camera back into the camera bag while I dig around in my snazzy clutch for the promised dollar.
Camera neatly tucked away and dollar in hand Nameless skips back to a spot about half way between myself and Elmo.

She freezes when she sees that two of the NYPD's finest are questioning Elmo. Whom at this point has removed his head piece and I'm now sure Elmo's name is probably Jamal.

Nameless is still frozen with panic. I could tell she was using her precious, now 16 powers of reasoning and abstract thought to decide what her course of action should be.

She looked to Elmo/Jamal with cops and then back to me. Then to Elmo/Jamal with cops and then back to me. And again and again and again.
I thought the poor thing was gonna get whiplash.
As her reasoning and abstract thought skills are relatively new I decided to let her " cheat off my paper " and help her out.
I called her name in a loud whisper and motioned for her to come back to me. Time to impart another important lesson to Nameless;

When the cops show up you make like a tree and leave. Quietly and without drawing attention to yourself.

We eventually found our way back to the hotel where Nameless showed off our "free" pictures with she and Elmo to Mom.
Mom was quite impressed with the quality of the pictures and expressed that perhaps they were the best of the trip.

Then Nameless uttered the words that every parent wants to hear;

" Yeah, and then the Cops showed up ! "

XOXO
Bunny

Easier Said Than Done.

2009-10-12T09:25:00.003-04:00

Look at one person who annoys you, and use the opportunity to counter your own anger and cultivate compassion.

This post as been brought to you by His Holiness The Dalai Lama via his Twitter page.

I'll leave you all to contemplate this and how it might be applicable to your existence.

Happy Columbus Day and Canadian Thanksgiving Everyone !

Bunny

P.S. Had to turn the heat on for the first time today. 58 degrees in the house when I got up this morning. BRRRR !

I'm Not Entirely Sure...But,

2009-10-10T18:52:00.005-04:00

I'm getting the feeling that my cats are under the impression that I purchase furniture solely for their collective comfort and enjoyment.

It seems to me that they think that The Mister and I's bed is really theirs and they are so gracious enough to let us sleep there at night.

If The Mister and I and our cats were ever to divorce the thought did cross my mind that Equatable Division Of The Assets would end with the cats being homeowners and The Mister and I living in an old refrigerator box under an overpass somewhere.

I was in HomeGoods yesterday (not ashamed to admit ) cruising through the clearance racks.
I found a throw pillow that read " Dogs Have Owners, Cats Have Stuff ".
It was supposed to read " Dogs Have Owners, Cats Have Staff. "

It would have been an entirely true statement and perhaps might have not had a permanent home on the clearance rack at HomeGoods had the poor embroidery machine operator somewhere in Vietnam not been illiterate.

Yep, my cats have Stuff alright, it just all happens to be mine.
My cats don't have Staff though. They have bitches. Me and The Mister.

XOXOXO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday.

2009-10-09T10:48:00.008-04:00

I've been trying to read this book for damn near six months. I started to read it in June when I was on a two week hiatus. I got through the first couple of chapters, but then the shit started to get deep. " The Shit " meaning the subject matter of the book. Deep I'm telling you. Like when you look down a well and you're a little unnerved because you're unable to see the bottom, even in broad daylight.

I had to put to book down. Should I have tried to slog through it I risked my poor brain, or what is left of it, putting up a hell of a protest and oozing out of me ears like lumpy, maple spice flavored instant oatmeal.
My brain, had it had the ability to speak to me should I kept on reading, would have been like;

Listen Lady, you know what ? We've got nowhere to put deep, philosophical shit of this magnitude.
Sadly you've filled me up with a laundry list of phone numbers, Tom Petty song lyrics, stupid knock-knock jokes and.....and.....and...OH MY GOD WOMAN ! You really are nuts, you know that ? You wanna read this book and absorb it ? Clean out the closets ! Some of this stuff needs to go. How 'bout the names of your elementary school gym teachers ? Why don't we start there ? You really don't need that bit of information anymore.

So the book has been sitting on the back of my toilet for a while now. I look at it when I'm in the bathroom and feel like a wee bit of a failure that I've started it but have since been unable to finish it.
I often contemplate removing it from the bathroom and putting back on my bookshelf.
But for some reason I am unable to do so.
Maybe doing so would be admitting defeat on my part.

In my defense it is really a difficult read. Not literarically speaking, but as I have said, philosophically speaking.
One really needs to be in the proper frame of mind to read it, it's really not " bathroom reading ", meaning that you really need to pay attention. And paying attention is not one of my stronger points.
So far the only appropriate place to read this book, that I can surmise so far, is in an isolation chamber of total darkness - a spelunking helmet being ones only source of light.

As I am not in possession of either A) an isolation chamber or B) a spelunking helmet, the book continues to sit on the back of my toilet.

If I were to ask myself " What Would Zen Darrell Do ? " he'd probably tell me that " Universally Speaking " I am not ready to absorb the contents of the book and that when " The Student Is Ready The Teacher Will Appear ".

So, " Universally Speaking " the book will reside in my upstairs bath until further notice.

Ok, onto RMF.

I was in New York last weekend visiting my best-est cousin Steph and her super lovely, shall-remain-nameless daughter. We had a wonderful time. New York in the fall is fantastic. I highly recommend it.

As tends to happen with me, as I am the Pied Piper of Crazy, I had not been in the city for more than three hours before some random suit on the street complemented my ass - in not so many words - but I knew what he was getting at.

That was merely the first in a series of odd, sexually harassing incidents.

As my a$$ seems to have a fan club ( you think I'm kidding ?? ), here is Rumpshaker by Wreckx-N-Effect.

1992, I was sixteen and a sophomores in HS.

Have a lovely weekend !

Bunny

P.S. Upon spell checking this post the word " bestest "( used to describe Steph ) came up as a misspelled word. One of the alternative suggestions it gave me was " Bustiest ".

Why People Hate Americans.

2009-10-06T21:00:00.009-04:00

This post has been brought to you PEOPLEOFWALMART.COM

I could not make this shit up. I do not own Photoshop software. I found these pic as they are shown at PEOPLEOFWALMART.COM

I've typed PEOPLEOFWALMART.COM three times now. That means that you should all go over to PEOPLEOFWALMART.COM RIGHT NOW and take a look-see.

There are people who happen to be related to myself that expressed their displeasure at the increasing population of illegal immigrants whom call the good ol' U.S of A home.

Take a look peeps...... take a gander at PEOPLEOFWALMART.COM

98 % of the folks pictured on this site are red blooded American citizens. It seems to me that there is nary an illegal amongst them.

In case you were wondering, there is no WalMart in France. Or Italy. Or Russia. Germany, Poland, Iceland, Norway, Fiji, Australia boast no WalMart either. Iran, Egypt, South Africa, Luxembourg and Monaco. Nope, Nope, Nope, Nope and Nope.

The Bahamas, Finland, Greece, Turkey, Belgium, Belarus, Austria, Hungary, South Korea and Romania. You want a WalMart ? Tough shit.

I guess they just do not have a need for Vanilla Ice CDs and 10 packs of BVDs in any of those places.

For a list of the " International " WalMarts, CLICK HERE.

Yep, even America's ball cap Canada has a white trash population ( sorry Mumbles....).

For even more proof that American is,in fact, filled to the brim with the creme of the crop of Mensa candidates, CLICK HERE.

Oy Vey.

XOXO

Bunny

Retro Music Friday - Return Of The Parrot.

2009-10-02T07:32:00.004-04:00

My favorite client " Parrot " returned from her summer vacation a few weeks ago. She happens to be....I really feel guilty saying this.....my favorite client. I shouldn't have favorites, but I do. Parrot, according to others, seems to feel as if I've hung the moon so to speak takes everything I say as.....well, her mother calls it " The gospel according to Bunny ".

Perhaps that is why she's my favorite. She does what I instruct her to do and never makes a fuss of any sort. Ever. Never nags me, makes be bribe her to get rid of unicorns or has any of the usual passive aggressive BS that many of our other clients have.

The one downside...well, maybe not downside, but...oh, I don't know.....caveat perhaps, is that she is one of our lower functioning clients. I cannot drop her on a street corner and tell her I'll see her next week as I can with others. I cannot let her pay for a cup of coffee without supervision. She requires at least a peripheral eye on her at all times. So, no BS, but I have to watch her all the time. A fair trade off, I think.

However as I have stated previously, she repeats everything I say. It can be pretty funny having your own words boomerang back at you channeled by someone with the mental capacity of a four-year old.

Earlier in the week I had taken her shopping at the newest LL Bean store in the area for some new threads. Upon exiting the parking lot there happened to be a half dozen or so middle aged men protesting LL Bean. They stand on the sidewalk and attempt to pass out flyers with regard to Bean's clothing being manufactured in sweatshops. I'm all for a good, old fashioned protest as free speech and the right to assemble ( although I think this one has more to do with religious gatherings, it could pertain to the Viagra poppers on the sidewalk too ) are our basic rights as Americans. However, it is annoying. A.Noy.Ing. They've been there for weeks. And I'm all Dude, I get it. Sweatshops. Child labor. Unfair wages. I get it. You don't need to tell me again. Shouldn't you all be sitting in McDonald's drinking coffee or something ?

At any rate, Parrot and I were exiting the parking lot, being held hostage by a red light, with the protesting Viagra poppers on the sidewalk not six feet from our car. As it was a nice day I had put Parrot's window down for some fresh air. But upon pulling up to the red light I rolled her window up ( power windows ) as I didn't want her to have to deal with these guys. She lacks the capacity to understand what they'd try to tell her and as I had no idea what the content of the flyer was I didn't want to subject her to anything that, again, she'd not have the capacity to understand and/or may traumatize her.

As the window closed I said, mostly to myself, " Geez, these guys need to quit standing on the sidewalk and get a job...."

I didn't think she heard me as, again, I was mostly talking to myself....

" Yeah, like these guys need to get a job. And like, quit standing on the sidewalk. I don't want your papers ! I'm not interested. No thank you. And stop standing on the sidewalk ! "

Cue the uncontrollable snickering on my part.

Fast forward to yesterday to the drive thru line at McDonald's.....I know what I said about " Diet Rehab " I know. I KNOW ! I was starving and desperate......... I ordered the Crispy Chicken meal, which I believe is the #7. Parrot was in the passenger's seat next to me and of course repeated what I had ordered;

" Oh, oh, Bunny ordered the Greasy Chicken sandwich. Oh, and like a diet coke and an, an, an apple pie. "

I ordered the #7 - the " Crispy Chicken ", but Parrot heard " Greasy Chicken ".

Reality Bites, doesn't it ?

And yes, it was an Apple Pie from McDonald's kind of day yesterday.

I used to think that most of life's problems could be solved with sex and alcohol, but I have since amended this.....most of life's problems can be solved with sex, alcohol and apple pie from McDonald's.

Ok, onto RMF.

I have a confession to make. You are all going to be totally shocked......that was sarcasm in case you couldn't tell......

I love New Kids On The Block. I do. Like, I luuuuuvvvvv the fact that they reunited briefly. It filled me with an unrestrained glee that is nearly impossible for me to contain - I feel like my twelve year old self again.

I realize that I have made it seem that my interest in them is of the " passing fancy " sort.......but I'm coming clean here.

I love New Kids On The Block. I have their new CD in my car and listen to it frequently. Although I hide it when I happen to have a friend in the car. I feel as if I have to hide my deep affection for Donnie, Danny, Jordan, Jonathan and Joe like it's my deepest, darkest secret.

I'm not a cutter, a klepto, a nympho, I don't do illegal drugs, I've never cheated on my spouse, I've never even cut the tags off my mattress.

I love New Kids On The Block.

But I am not going to subject any of you to a NKOTB video. Instead I give you........

Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch.

This would be Mark Wahlberg, brother of Donnie Wahlberg, circa 1991. I believe this song was produced by Donnie.

I was 15 and a sophmore in HS when this came out.

Enjoy.

XOXOXO

Bunny

Stacy's Mom - Minstrel Of Satan.

2009-09-27T20:30:00.004-04:00

I'm beginning to realize that there is stuff that only I know of. As I've explained previously it's as if I am the sole occupant of Planet Bunny. Jeopardy could have a category named " Stuff Only Bunny Knows. ", you get the idea.

99% of the time the knowledge only I seem to possess is very obscure. I suppose I could compare my offhand trivial tidbits, my SOAK-ness** if you will, to what it must be like for someone to be visiting a foreign country and not speak the native language. I'll utter some random fact or quote a line from a John Hughes movie ( This is a very nutritious lunch Brian, all the food groups are represented. Did your Mom marry Mr. Rogers ? ) and people look at me like, well, I'm from another planet.

There are some things that I take for granted that everyone must know about. Like YouTube.
But sometimes, like today, I have the chance to brighten someones horizons with all the useless crap that floats around in my head.

I introduced one of our clients to YouTube. It was as if I just gave an alcoholic the keys to a bar.
He, one half of " The Unicorn " couple, had no previous knowledge of YouTube. And I was all like;

" Oh Mr. Unicorn Man, let me show you the world of cookies and kittens and rainbows that is YouTube ! "

I pulled up the intro to The A - Team. Then the Miami Vice intro, then Knight Rider, then Magnum P.I., then Laverne and Shirley, then Happy Days, and so on and so on.
Ok, but first I did show him The Grape Smashing Lady and then The A - Team, etc, etc.

And he, eyebrows raised so high they nearly became unattached from his head, was all like;

" Oh crazy lunatic woman ! Why has nobody shared with me the world of cookies and kittens and rainbows that is YouTube ! I will love you like no other for the next five minutes you crazy lunatic woman ! "

After we pulled the DeLorean back into the parking lot after visiting the 80's I decided that even though retro TV themes were awesome, he really needed some PG soft core porn.
So I introduced him to Stacy's Mom - after his wife left the room of course.

One look at Rachel Hunter's tennis-skirted thighs ( :10 sec mark ) and he gave me a look like;

" Should I really be watching this ?? Like, am I gonna get in trouble here ? "

Then Stacy's Mom / Rachel Hunter began to disrobe ( :58 sec mark ) and I could sense that if he still had the ability to speak he would have requested that I leave him alone with Ms. Hunter.

At that point I excused myself with a " Bye Mr. Unicorn Man. " and walked out of the room.
Mr. Unicorn Man could not remove his eyes from the screen, but did manage a half-hearted
" Yeah... umm...bye. "

You are totally welcome Mr. Unicorn Man.

Xo
Bunny

** My co-worker Cookiegirl83's brother seems to also possess an encyclopedic knowledge of useless crap. Due to this she and her family members have begun referring to him at THE SOAK - The Source Of All Knowledge.

Insanely Cute And Accutely Insane.

2009-09-26T07:23:00.003-04:00

Guess what happened to me Thursday ? G'head, guess. You're never gonna guess.....go ahead, just try.

Give up ?

I've come to realize that the reason none of you can/want to ever guess what happened to me when I say " Guess what happened to me ? " is because the sheer magnitude and intensity of crazy shit that happens to me is, well, mind blowing.

I'll just go ahead and tell you.

I was attacked by a squirrel. Uh huh. Attacked. By a squirrel.

As the details of my rodent acostment are still sketchy due to my squirrel attack induced PTSD, I do vaguely remember being totally disarmed by his cuteness only to see him, shortly after I remarked " Awww...what a cute little squirrel !", fly through the air only to land on my cute, strappy,wedge heeled feet.

I swear I heard him say " HIAH ! " as I watched him fly through the air spread eagle. I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing and so as my brain tried to process what was happening, well, everything seemed to be in slow motion.

" Oh my god, that.....squirrel is....flying......through the.......... air........ and.....................oh my god..............I......I think he's going....to land on my feeeeeet. "

Of course having no previous squirrel attack under my belt as a frame of reference I had no idea that I would respond by running around in a small circle and shrieking like a little girl.

And wouldn't you know I was with a client.
She found the entire sequence of events to be completely hilarious.

For a better understanding of how it is that I came to be attacked by a squirrel I should tell you that the above referenced client and I were seated outdoors reading magazines while we were waiting for a ride to come pick her up.

Not at all frightened by my interpretive dance the effing squirrel ran not three feet away from me and CAME BACK FOR MORE !

At this point I was dancing, shrieking, waving a magazine and verbally abusing a small woodland creature.

" Listen jackass, get the hell away from me ! NO ! GO AWAY ASSBAG ! GIT ! I SWEAR I'LL KICK YOUR ASS ! GIT GIT GIT !

Shortly after my tirade I felt that perhaps I should have done a better job of censoring myself as it is less than professional to be cursing in front of a client.
I justified it by thinking A) she's an adult and I'm sure has heard worse in her life and B) the whole episode probably made her day as she was laughing uncontrollably.

Guess what ? The effing rat came back for more ! This time he decided that he was going to give my client a try and slinked up to her.
She went all Clint Eastwood on him, complete with the stink eye, and generally made him fear for his life.
I guess Death By Rolled Up Magazine was not on his agenda for the afternoon so he saw fit to make his way over to the dumpster.

She and I waited a bit longer for her ride to appear and when I said PTSD I totally meant it as every time I saw a chipmunk or a leaf fly across the parking lot out of the corner of my eye I jumped about twelve feet.

Later in the day I called my cousin to relate the events of the morning to her. I shared with her that no matter how crappy her day was I was gonna bet money that the recounting of her day to her Hubs would not culminate in telling him that she was attacked by a squirrel.

Effing squirrel.

XO
Bunny

Flu!

2009-09-23T18:42:00.007-04:00

I think I ate about a pound and a half of fruit salad and three danish type thingies at a staff meeting today in an effort of keep my mouth busy doing something other than letting a stream of obscenities come out of it.

No doubt you're wondering what subject matter was so bothersome to me that I had to use every last drop of willpower I possessed to keep my inner Denis Leary from making an appearance.

Drumroll please..........

The Flu!

More to the point...how to educate forty some odd mentally disabled people about Flu! etiquette and prevention.

First off, you can't kill The Flu! by talking it to death for AN HOUR.

Four pieces of pineapple down the hatch.

Dancing and singing at an in-service about The Flu! won't kill it either.

Six blueberries....mmmmmmm, mighty tasty !

Nor can you kill The Flu! by making people watch videos on YouTube.

Damn this pecan thing from Panera is the bomb !

Making ME get dressed up in the likeness of a Flu! bug and dance and sing most certainly will not kill Flu! bugs either.

I wonder if it would be rude to take the last of the blueberry danish... ?? Four strawberries popped in my piehole....mmmmmm.

So yeah, today's staff meeting was two hours of my life that I, unfortunately, will never get back.

What would I have done had today's staff meeting taken place in some alternate space and time ??

Drumroll please...............

** Slams down plate full of pastries and half-pound of fruit salad **

OK LISTEN, WE CAN ALL TALK AND TALK AND TALK....... BUT SOME OF US, CLIENTS INCLUDED, ARE GONNA GET THE F'ING FLU! NO MATTER HOW MUCH F'ING EDUCATION WE PROVIDE THEM OR HOW MANY INDIVIDUAL F'ING BOTTLES OF F'ING HAND SANITIZERS WE GIVE THEM. WE CAN DANCE AND SING UNTIL THE F'ING COWS COME HOME BUT LISTEN TO ME.....SOME OF US WILL GET THE F'ING FLU! REGARDLESS. IS IT GOING TO SUCK ? YES ! BUT GUESS WHAT ? LIFE JUST F'ING SUCKS SOMETIMES AND PEOPLE GET THE F'ING FLU! IT HAPPENS ! I'VE LISTENED TO YOU ALL BLAHHH BLITTY BLAHHH BLAAHH FOR A F'ING HOUR AND I CAN'T LISTEN TO THIS SHIT ANYMORE ! I SEE YOUR MOUTHS MOVING, BUT ALL I'M HEARING IS CHARLIE BROWN'S TEACHER....WAAAHHHH WAHHHH WHHAAAAAA.......

IT'S THE F'ING FLU! NOT THE F'ING NUCLEAR HOLOCAUST !

YOU WANT FLU! PREVENTION.....HERE IT IS. WRITE THIS DOWN PEEPS, I'M ONLY GONNA SAY THIS SHIT ONCE.

#1. WASH YOUR F'ING HANDS !

#2. GET A F'ING FLU! SHOT IF YOU'RE ELDERLY, PREGNANT OR A SMALL CHILD.

#3. IF YOU'RE SICK STAY THE F*CK HOME.

DAMN IT ALL TO HELL PEOPLE, IF I KNEW STAFF MEETING WAS GOING TO BE THIS MUCH FUN F'ING TODAY I WOULD HAVE STAYED THE F*CK HOME AND READ MY NEW ISSUE OF HOUSE F'ING BEAUTIFUL !

**picks plate of danish thingies and fruit salad back up and resumes eating **

An to top it off I was VERY RUDELY interrupted by another employee of my agency yesterday when he decided that he JUST HAD TO TELL MY BOSS THAT ACCORDING TO THE CDC SHE'S BEEN CROSS CONTAMINATING THE HAND SANITIZER BOTTLES !

And I'm all like...OK dude, don't worry, 'cause you know, nothing I was sitting in my boss's office talking to her about was more important than CROSS CONTAMINATING THE HAND SANITIZERS ! I mean, my God...I'm sorry for even, you know, having the nerve to exist and breathe and whatnot WHEN THERE ARE HAND SANITIZER BOTTLES BEING ARE BEING CROSS CONTAMINATED ! OH THE F'ING HUMANITY !

You know, I've worked for this agency for nearly seven years and I have absolutely no clue what he does. I really don't. Not that I really care. Unfortunately he's one of those guys that thinks because he's in possession of a penis that somehow what he has to say is way more important that anyone else - you know, those of us without penises......... D-bag.

My friend " K " put a neat little bow on all of this Flu! talk;

" You know, everyone is entitled to their opinion, but when their opinions are really lame it make them really hard to deal with. "

Why do I keep writing Flu! with an exclamation point ?? Total plagiarism. CLICK HERE.

So yeah, wash your hands peeps.

XO
Bunny

P.S.
Jon Knight is still hot.

Adventures In Drywall.

2009-09-19T13:59:00.003-04:00

Wanna know what happens when you buy a house from Hillbillies ?

You find a large, spray painted mural of Bugs Bunny with tits on the underside of drywall ( if it can even be considered drywall.....) that you rip out of your stairwell.

As The Mister pulled out a large section of " drywall " to throw out into the heap of all the other " drywall " he'd ripped down I was all like......
" Hey, wait a sec.....is that ? Is that Bugs Bunny ? "

The Mister flipped the piece he was holding around and said;
" Yep, that's Bugs alright. Looks like Bugs has got a big rack too... "

The Mister went back to ripping down the " drywall " and upon exposing the interior wall he began to laugh out loud. It was not one of those ha-ha-what-a-funny-joke laughs....it was more like a oh-my-god-just-when-I-thought-it-couldn't-get-any-worse laughs.

So me, having no previous experience with drywall, went over to inquire about the source of the Funny.

Me: What ?

The Mister: See this ? **Points to exposed interior wall **

Me: Yeah ? ** not noting anything peculiar about the exposed interior wall **

TM: See the seams ? ** motions to long, horizontal seams **

Me: Yeah ? ** still not catching the drift, but what else is new**

TM: They put 2 foot sections of drywall in horizontally, see....there's like 12, 2 foot sections?

Me: Yeah ?

TM: That's how idiots drywall. It should be as big a section of drywall you can get so you have as few seams as possible.

Me: Oh.

TM: You know that show " If These Walls Could Talk ", well if this house could talk it would probably be the musings of four drunk hillbillies talking about beer and titties.

I'd post pictures of our drywall demo and reconstruction, but our camera decided to die today.

And I should clarify why I kept putting " drywall " in quotes. After ripping down the circa 1962 wallpaper in the stairwell I could not quite figure out what the material was that had previously had the wallpaper stuck to it. It certainly wasn't traditional drywall, it could best be described as compressed layers of cardboard and.....oh, I don't know.......old subflooring ?
Well, whatever it was is not in a heap in our shed awaiting a trip to the big drywall heaven in the sky.

XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday.

2009-09-18T18:56:00.003-04:00

My Sweet Emmise turned sixteen this week. Yep, you read that right. 16. I really don't have much to say about it other than " OH CRAP I'M GETTING OLD ! ".

The Mister and I went over to her parent's house to give her her Sweet 16 birthday gift and have some Birthday cake.

Speaking of her birthday cake, it was hand picked by her and was oh...... whats the word I'm looking for here ? Obscene.

Really.

I'm not kidding.

Wanna see it ??

CLICK HERE.

Oy Vey was that a shit load of cake ( is shit load one word ? I'm not sure... ). They should throw in a free wheel barrow to anyone who buys one. You need it to carry this cake to and from your car. I joked with my Aunt that it was $32 and 32lbs.

At any rate, the song that was number one the week she was born was.....drumroll please........you Gen X'ers out there are gonna feel really old.......

Dreamlover by Mariah Carey.

CRAP I'M OLD !

Not too long ago The Mister and I had related to Emmsie the story of an outing we had when she was probably not quite three years of age. As she was so young at the time she's not remembered this particular outing but was amused by our recounting of it.

Wanna hear it ?

I knew ya did.

When she was not quite three The Mister and I had taken her to a small zoo not far from my parent's house for the afternoon. As we headed back to the car at the end our out outing we had all climbed back in the car to go home. The Mister had still had his Escort at this time and it happened to have a sunroof. As Emmsie had not had any previous experience with a sunroof she was quite fascinated by it. The Mister's sunroof was....umm...... " after market " and actually popped out ( don't worry, it was supposed to do that ) when you undid the latches.

So The Mister and I popped out the sunroof, stood Emmsie's tiny not-quite-three feet on the console between the seats and let her stick her tiny not-quite-three head out of the sunroof. Then we drove around the parking lot at the zoo. Granted we only went four miles an hour and the parking lot was empty, but Emmsie LOVED IT !

She laughed quite a bit...well, or at least as much as a sixteen year old girl can/does laugh, at this story.

She laughed harder when the three of us looked up number one songs by date of birth for her brothers. Turns out her two brothers came into the world to Always by Atlantic Starr and Lost In Your Eyes by Debbie Gibson.

I said to her " Gee Emmsie, I think you made out on that deal. "

She responded with " Shaaa...I think so too. "

Here's looking at you kid.

XOXO
Bunny

Life On Planet Bunny.

2009-09-15T19:04:00.005-04:00

Today I was pleasantly surprised to find out that His Holiness The Dalai Lama is on Twitter. Yeah, I know. Surreal, right ?? Certainly stranger things have happened, you know......stuff like THIS.
At any rate, I was expressing to some of my coworkers that I had stumbled across HHTDL via Russell Simmons's Twitter feed.
My coworkers and I are largely high-minded liberal peace and love types...so we're all pretty much down with The Dalai. I knew they'd appreciate to-the-second tweets from HHTDL so I who was I to keep this info all to myself ??

The reactions I got to informing my high-minded, etc, etc coworkers about HHTDL on Twitter were all pretty much the same. They all went a little something like this;

Me: Did you know the Dalai Lama is on Twitter ?

Random Coworker: No, but that's really cool. I'll have to check that out.

Me: Yeah, I found him through Russell Simmons's Twitter feed.

Random Coworker: ** blank stare **

Me: I found him through Russell Simmons's Twitter feed.

RC: ** continued blank stare with the occasional eye bat **

Me: ( heavy, exaggerated sigh ) Do you know who Russell Simmons is ?

RC: No.

Me: ( half volume faux scream ) WHY AM I THE ONLY PERSON WHO KNOWS WHO RUSSELL SIMMONS IS !!?? I FEEL LIKE I LIVE ON MY OWN PLANET !!!!!!

My alienation was only further exacerbated later in the day by my cousin who professed to know who Russell Simmons is. He went on to tell me that, in fact, Russell Simmons was in Run D.M.C.
So then I was all like....NO ! NO HE WAS NOT !
And he was all like YEAH HUH !!
And then I was all YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT SO SHUT UP !
And he was all like YOU ARE NOT COOL !
And I went all three snaps in a Z formation on him and pulled up the interwebs on my cell phone to prove my point that SEE !! RUSSELL SIMMONS WAS NOT IN RUN DMC !!!
So then he was all like WHATEVER and walked away from me.

:::::sigh::::::

My friend Zen Darrell has found an all natural method for keeping squirrels out of his house and attic that does not involve harsh chemicals or killing them.
He's been peeing around the perimeter of his house, marking his territory so to speak.
He's also been removing the " clumped " bits from his cat's litter box and crumpling them all around the back of his property line.
He's not seen a squirrel in a week.
Just wanted to pass that info along to all of you. He did tell me that I could share that with y'all.

Listen, it's not me peeing on my house so don't give me that look, ok ??

::::::sigh:::::::

I had another run in with the worms Sunday night. The Mister expressed that, at that point, he understood what it was like to be blissfully wed to a nine year-old with a crack habit.
Sunday night's run-in did not involve Wham ! but a certain white rapper did play a lead role in what I should start calling my one-woman performance art pieces.

:::::::sigh::::::::::

Patrick Swayze died yesterday. Heaven just got a little funnier if you ask me. RIP Johnny Castle.

:::::::::sigh::::::::::

My sweet Emmsie turned 16 yesterday......perhaps it is time for that AARP card after all.
More on that on this week's RMF.

So, I guess that's it. I hope everyone has a good night.

This post has been brought to you by Three Olives vodka and WFM 365 brand OJ with calcium.
See.....I said I was trying to make better food and beverage choices......WITH CALCIUM !!!

XXOO
Bunny

Falling Off The Wagon.

2009-09-12T18:34:00.004-04:00

So lately I've decided that I should make an attempt to eat a bit better. I've chronicled on this very blog about my numerous dietary indiscretions and general poorness of my food and beverage habits.

What brings this on you're wondering ??

I had an epiphany yesterday that perhaps my food choices are too taxing on my GI system and like a hot water heater.....( which is an oxymoron.....do you need to heat water that's already hot ?? It's really kind of an existential question...like what does one hand clapping sound like ? ) it needed to be flushed out.

I began my dietary rehab in earnest yesterday with........a small head of raw broccoli. Followed with two carrots and an apple. And green tea.

I'm sure you can all guess that by the time I got to Stop & Shop later that afternoon I was craving me some bad carbs, and not just any bad carbs.......I'm talking bad as in I-just-got-sent-to-juvy bad carbs.

I bought a double chocolate muffin out of the bakery case and ate the top half of it while driving to my friend Chris's house.

Can you say Glutton ??

I realize it's mighty difficult to change such ingrained habits on a dime - so I forgave myself of this muffin misdeed and told my myself that I'd begin anew tomorrow.

I decided that I needed a little inspiration for " Diet Rehab " and went grocery shopping at WFM early this morning.

I have to say, I did look like the biggest hot mess in the world at WFM this morning....but the folks there, both employees and fellow customers, are so embracing and accepting.....God, WFM is almost like a cult, isn't it ???
At any rate, I didn't feel at all like a hot mess due to their abundance of acceptance and overall hospitable-ness.....

Day two of " Diet Rehab " went much better for me. Although The Mister did express to me that I was a bit crankier than usual.

Fast forward to 4:30 this afternoon to The Mister and I in line at CVS. I guess he had spied me spying the display of juvy-bad 99 cent candy with a certain amount of longing in my eyes.
This resulted in him throwing a bag of sour bright crawlers at me.

I ate half the bag on the 2.5 mile ride home.

Remember THIS POST ??

Turns out that after a consuming a half bag of sour bright crawlers Wham ! can really facilitate one getting ones groove on. It was like Showtime At The Apollo around here for about forty five minutes.

In summation, I guess consuming a half bag of SBC in less than five minutes isn't like falling off the wagon....it's more like belly flopping off the wagon.

I'm going to crawl my fat ass back up on the wagon tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

XO
Bunny

My Dream Job.

2009-09-10T20:04:00.001-04:00

No. Working the Taco Bell Drive Thru is not my dream job.

But I imagine screwing with Joe Public would be mighty satisfying.

Bunny

Please Start Your Prayer Chains Now.

2009-09-08T20:27:00.002-04:00

So it seems our beloved Gateway ( THIS ONE ) is on life support. As I'm writing this our PC could crap out and DIE at any moment. At least that's what the kid at Best Buy said. I'm living fast and loose even turning it on, but hey, I love you guys so much that I'm willing to risk it.

Come to think of it.....would you want some 50-something baby boomer looking at your beloved PC ? No. You want the seemingly shiftless twenty something who beat Mortal Combat when he was 11 ripping the cover off it while wielding a screwdriver. Gives me an odd sense of inner peace.

But I digress.

You remember when I blogged about the combination of words that I never thought I'd say.....you know.... the UNICORNS.

Another strange combination of words came out of my mouth earlier this evening at my local Best Buy.
I sashayed myself in there.... (I looked particularly fetching today, I must admit )...and plopped my hard drive up on the Geek Squad counter and as a young gentleman came to my assistance I said......

" I need a Geek. "

Yep.
I. Need. A. Geek.

The Geek ( shamefully I did not catch his name.. ) diagnosed my PC with " a bad graphics card " and then went on to tell me that " you don't have too much longer...."
Which I suppose is sort of like them advising you to call hospice. You know, make your final plans now.
He ( The Geek ) jury rigged it to keep running for the time being. I asked him, between sniffles, how much longer....he said " A week, a month, six months....no way to really tell. "

So, The Mister and I will be backing up our files onto an external hard drive this weekend and start shopping around for a new PC.

And please don't tell me to buy a Mac. I HATE MACS !

Anywho.....F#cking Bill came for a visit this weekend. He seemed to have a good time. And The Mister was SOOOO FREAKIN' HAPPY to see his brother that he drank himself into a stupor on Bushmills and passed out on the porch.

Good Times.

What else ???? Ahhh...I worked in the yard for most of the afternoon yesterday. And.....let's see......I've got a rash. Ummm..... not too much else.

Please pray for my Gateway.

XO
Bunny

God I Miss Beavis & Butthead !

2009-09-03T23:33:00.003-04:00

I'll go ahead and own that one. I luvs me some Beavis & Butthead. There's just something about their sophomoric behavior that appeals to the adolescent in me.

Johnny Knoxville also appeals to the adolescent in me as I had myself quite a laugh at Jackass reruns on MTV a few nights ago.

Although I did pretend to act all high and mighty ( " God, they are so immature ! Only guys do this crap, you'll never see two women pushing each around in shopping carts ! " Why are they whacking each other in the nuts ?? ) between fits of laughter.

Apparently B & B are now doing Film Forum, which you can find on YouTube.

Enjoy !

Bunny

Mr. & Mrs. Hot Stuff Explained.

2009-08-23T16:37:00.003-04:00

My sister got married in the Fall of '07. As tends to happen with weddings, there was a photographer - I don't recall his name right now. For the purpose of this post let's refer to him as " Jimmy ".

Judging by the quality of my sister's wedding pic, Jimmy was / is a competent enough photographer.
However, Jimmy was.....how shall I put this ? A little too much " Mr. Personality " for my liking.

I've noticed over the course of time that I tend to shy away from men with too commanding of a personality. There's something about a guy with too much machismo that bothers me for some reason. There is one guy at work who happens to be loved by all. Except me. I've had a few interactions with this individual that have rubbed me the wrong way. I've come to realize that he's basically a HUGE blowhard - his bark is way worse than his bite.

Anywho....back to Jimmy...he's probably photographed 950,000 weddings. And due to the sheer number of weddings that he's probably witnessed he's probably learned that you don't ( and can't ) learn the names of all of the wedding attendants. So as a professional skill ( coping mechanism ?? ) Jimmy had taken to calling all of the attendants in my sister's wedding " Cutie ".

I suppose " Cutie " is better than " Hey You "....but being called " Cutie " forty dozen times in an afternoon ?? I had to put a stop to it.

Cutie, look over here. Hey Cutie, can you stand next to her. Cutie, turn your shoulders a bit. Cutie we need to sit down a bit in front. Cutie, lay your bouquet in your lap. You, Cutie can you just lean a bit more to the side for me. Cutie, this one is just you and the bride. Cutie, we're gonna get the girls with the groom now. Hey Cutie, can you just stand over here.

I figured a right hook to the jaw was probably a little over the top. I'm way too classy for that.
So I figured I'd wait until the next time he called me " Cutie " to fire my verbal weapon.
I knew it wasn't going to be long........

" Hey Cutie, I need you over here for pictures."

** sound of shot gun being cocked **

I did a snap turn on my crayola crayon purple, gem encrusted ballet flat. Hands slapped to my hips with no regard for my beautiful bouquet. And in the best, un-Mary Poppins voice I said

" You know, I REALLY prefer Hot Stuff. "

I think he was taken aback a bit. He froze for a half second;

" Ok, Hot Stuff it is then. "

From that point on I was " Hot Stuff " and all the other gals were " Cutie ".

I know, I know, I'm getting to the Mr. & Mrs. part....

Later in the evening I wanted to get a picture of The Mister and I in our wedding finest. I found Jimmy and requested said picture.

Jimmy said " Sure" so I trotted off to find The Mister.

Truthfully, at this point, after putting an abrupt stop to his "Cutie " routine he would have given me anything I asked for, most likely out of sheer fright.

Looking back I should have made a play for all the money in his wallet. But you know what they say, Hindsight is 20/20.

Anyway, I found The Mister and dragged him back to where I'd left Jimmy. I walked up to Jimmy and said;

" This is Mr. Hot Stuff. "

So there you have it. Mr & Mrs. Hot Stuff, explained.

XOXO
Bunny

P.S. Am I the only person who gets a cold in August ?

Dusty.

2009-08-22T15:19:00.002-04:00

Ok, you guys are all gonna laugh at this one. This is REALLY funny. And when I say, THIS IS REALLY FUNNY what I really mean is that all of you will be relieved that none of you can make an utter, ridiculous fool of yourselves quite the way that I can ( and did ) as fantastically as I have over the period of the past month or so.

Do you remember me telling you about Team Miller ? Yes, them. Our fantabulous friends. I mean, you'll not find two more awesome people ( besides The Mister and I ) anywhere. Funny, engaging, generous..... I could go on and on. Their one collective flaw seems to be that they are both Steelers and Phillies fans. But they are otherwise above reproach, so The Mister and I are willing to overlook this this small, unsavory fact.

Anywho......I've been leaving numerous voice mails and texts for Trix for about a month now. Message after message, text after text, with no acknowledgement of receipt of any of these messages. I know she's got her hands full with a FT job and her two beautiful children and was probably a bit too busy to get back to me.
But still, I kept leaving messages. Each more ridiculous and comedic than the last.
Those that know me well enough to have my cell number and I theirs know that I can leave a doozie of a VM.

You should ask my sister about Cell Phone Karaoke when you get a minute.........

Anyway, back to Trix......I figured that if I amused her enough, if I made her laugh hard enough, she's see fit to call me when she had a free moment.

I sent a one line text to her yesterday;

Are you still alive ?

I heard back from her about five hours later to let me know that she was, in fact, still roaming planet Earth.

So where does Dusty come in you ask ?

Apparently I was unaware that she ( Trix ) had taken a new job and her cell phone had been given to the son of the owner of the company she used to work for.
They were unable to change over the message greeting until the end of the month.

So I'd been leaving these messages for Dusty, the owner's son.

I invited Dusty to a party....he didn't show up. I told Dusty that the guest room was finished...I'm praying I failed to tell Dusty that the theme of the guest room is Bohemian French Whore...... I may have even ragged on the Phillies a bit. I think I also told Dusty a few dirty jokes.

Ooopsie. My bad.

I hope Dusty has a sense of humor.

** waves ** " Hiya Dusty !! "

XOXO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday - A Two Part'er.

2009-08-21T10:23:00.005-04:00

Ok so I woke up Wednesday morning feeling like there was something in my eye. So as I lay half awake in the wee dawn hours I rubbed my eye in an attempt to get whatever it was out of my eye. I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed to no avail. My eye still didn't feel quite right.

I stumbled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom to take a look-see in the mirror.

To my horror I discovered that I resembled Rocky Balboa.

By this time The Mister was also up and upon viewing me doing my very best , albeit unintentional and involuntary, impression of The Italian Stallion he said;

" Jeez Babe...you might.......ahhhhh....wanna get that looked at today. Eww.. "

Here is the theme to Rocky.

The movie Rocky was released in 1976, the same year as me. Sly Stallone was only 30 when he portrayed Rocky Balboa. Rocky won an Oscar for best picture.

At any rate, I called into work and let my boss know not to expect me that day.

I trotted myself off to the Dr. mid-morning. This is what ensued during that visit;

Dr: What seems to be the problem today ?

Me: Ummm...my eye.

Dr: Oh my goodness yes, would you look at that. ** steps closer ** Hmmm. ** reaches up to poke me in the eye ** Does that hurt ?

Me: Well no. Not really.

Dr: ** pokes me in the eye again ** How 'bout now ?

Me: No.

Dr: ** pulls my eyelid off my eyeball ** Does that hurt ?

Me: No. I mean, it's uncomfortable because it's swollen, but it doesn't really hurt.

Dr: ** pushes my entire eyelid toward the bridge of my nose ** That doesn't hurt ?

Me: No.

Dr: ** takes a step back and rubs chin ala Sherlock Holmes ** Hmmmm..... well, I think it's a sty. But stys are painful and you don't seem to be in any pain. But it could be an allergy of some sort. ** steps closer and peels my eye lid off my eyeball again ** It doesn't seem to be weeping or have any discharge, so that's good. It might me a bacterial infection. But I'm pretty sure it's just a sty.

So I left the Dr with a three step program for what is most likely a sty. Or an allergy. Or perhaps a bacterial infection.

I seem to be much better as of today. My eye is no longer swollen.

Here's Doctor My Eyes by Jackson Browne. This was on Jackson Browne's debut album, released in 1972.

Enjoy them both.

Oh hey, guess what ? I spoke to the assisted living facility's director yesterday ( strictly off the record ) and lo and behold, they don't want to lose my older client over 3K either ! Btw, I was soooo not supposed to speak to them regarding finances. Can you say " Hot Water " ? But since when have I not broken the rules to suit my own needs ? Anywho, the director told me that we could certainly work something out and she's get back to me.

Little ol' me could accomplish what a conference room full of government hacks could not.

G'head and say it..... I Kick Ass !

XOXO

Bunny

Identity Crisis.

2009-08-18T19:07:00.011-04:00

There have been faint rumblings regarding my older client and her current living situation for a few months now. For a time I merely ignored these rumblings, because what was being suggested was/is a hellish nightmare that I am not willing to subject myself ( or her ) to. It seems that this week the rumblings have become too loud to ignore.

To the point; it is being suggested that my older client move due to funding issues. More specifically, a lack of funding issue. Or perhaps a fixed funding issue with no clause to account for inflation would be a more apt description.

The assisted living she has been residing in since 2006 has been bought out by another company who promptly raised their rates. This was right after they remodeled the interior common areas and hallways.....for the third time in two years.

Yeah, that one didn't make much sense to me either. But we don't have time to discuss the fugly yellow wallpaper right now............

( Some that know me know that I HATE the color yellow. Like, I despise yellow. Yellow must die a horrible, painful death. HATE YELLOW !!! )

Anywho, she ( my older client ) has a very limited amount of funding that is allowing her to remain at this facility. Now with the rate increase there is a funding shortfall.

So the geniuses at the nameless government agency that oversees her funding have decided that she must move to a less expensive facility.

At first I was all like....well, ok. If she must.

After I wasted some of my precious brain cells thinking about this matter I have since revised my opinion. While I was driving to work yesterday my thought pattern went a little something like this;

" Ok, they want her to move because she can't afford to live there anymore. But a move costs money. Money she doesn't have. And it's real easy for a bunch of government hacks to decide that she needs to move because they won't have to move her. All the move details will fall to me and I AIN'T MOVING HER AGAIN. I've moved her five times and each move sucked more than the last. I AIN'T MOVING HER AGAIN. But wait, if the facility they're suggesting that she move to costs less, how good is the quality of care ? Probably not great...which is only going to mean one thing....more freakin' work for me. More people to chase after when the bathroom is dirty. More people to nag when the clothes look like holy hell and I have to toss them and buy new. Freakin' dope government hacks ! I AIN'T MOVING HER AGAIN ! And then what about her ?? She's not gonna tolerate a move too well in her advancing years. Which is only gonna lead to stress and.....Stress ? This is gonna really stress me out. My God, if I have to move her again I might develop a drinking prob.....I AIN'T MOVING HER AGAIN ! Christssake, she's gonna flip her shit if she moves, which is only gonna lead to her having stress and anxiety issues......I'm gonna have to deal with her hissy fits and the only one around here who gets to have hissy fits is me !

Stupid dumbasses at D_ _ !

** sarcastic impersonation of nameless gov't hack **

" Ohhhh, lets just move her. Yeah, sounds like a primo plan ! "

Ok, but wait, what amount are we talking exactly here ? ** quickly does math in head **
Carry the one.........THREE THOUSAND BUCKS ! THEY WANT ME TO MOVE HER OVER THREE GRAND ! Oh man, they can kiss my butt! Three freakin' grand. Crap. I'll pay that myself to not have to move her. Three grand is not worth me ending up in AA.

I can't believe a rash of government dipshits all sat around a conference table and decided that she needs to move OVER THREE GRAND ! AAAAUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!!!

Wait, ok, let's think this through. The assisted living facility is a business. They're all about making money. Money, HA ! Clearly the asshats at D_ _ didn't consider the HUMAN price in all their grandiose plans.....Ok, focus here....they're not gonna wanna lose a CONSIDERABLE amount of money over three grand. That'll be like....well....like...Ok. I don't know what it would be like, but it would be really dumb. I wonder if anyone thought to approach the assisted living to see if we could work something out, perhaps locking a rate because technically she's low income. I mean, surely they're not gonna wanna sit on an empty apartment over three grand. Bad for business. I'm sure there has got to be another solution to all this. Wait, aren't there obscenely wealthy people who look to give their cash away ? What if we got her a grant of some sort ? That might buy her a few more years there. Or maybe we could get her a roommate ? Hmmmm...

Freakin' dumb dopes wanna move her over three grand. I can't believe they all sat around and not one of them could come up with a better idea than to move her......

:::::::::sigh :::::::::::

This my friends, is your tax dollars at work. A conference room full of highly educated people and not one of them thought to approach the assisted living or consider an alternate funding source.
I'm convinced the greater the number of government employees you have in a conference room the more drastic the drop in their collective IQ.

** I'm not a gov't employee. I work for a gov't contractor. Big difference. **

I presented the aforementioned ideas to my boss. She seemed to think that investigating alternate means of keeping my older client in her current living situation was a brilliant idea.

Wish me luck.

I should tell you that I am willing her not to move. I just keep telling myself over and over again that it won't happen. Let's hope willing it not to happen works.

So where does the Identity Crisis come in ?

I had another revelation yesterday morning while I was driving to work. For those familiar with the Boston suburbs....they ( the State Highway Division ) has been working on the bridge at the Rt 1 north / Rt 95 interchange in Sharon, MA for nearly five years.

Five years to fix a bridge and repave the road.

If the State Highway Division were a private entity this project would have been done long ago.

The secondary revelation I had yesterday was that although for the majority of my life my political identity ( identity....not affiliation ) was mostly aligned with the Democratic party, I think I might actually be........you may want to sit for this one.........I may actually be a Libertarian.

I've come to the realization that Government ( State, Fed, etc. ) only exists to feed its own ineptitude.

If say, the USPS was privatized stamps might not cost 44 cents. If we privatized the Highway Division road projects would be done at lightning speed.

If the nameless Gov't agency that supervises my client were privatized, perhaps she'd not have to pack it up over 3K.

So there you have it.

Hi. My name is Bunny and I'm a Libertarian.

XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday - A Day Late.

2009-08-15T07:48:00.007-04:00

SOMEONE FINALLY GOT IT RIGHT !!!!!

In case anyone was wondering, the guy in the above pic is the stoner loser from the Twilight movie. Everyone, well ok not everyone, but a lot of people seem to think he's hot.
Except me.
If it looks like a loser and it smells like weed and BO.....it's not hot.
Call me crazy, but I'd don't think guys who looked like they've just rolled out of the gutter and/or have recently been paroled are all that and some Skittles.
I hope he's enjoying his 15 minutes, 'cause the clocks ticking....... Mark my words, in twenty years he's gonna look like Steve Buscemi.
If y'all wanna see pure hotness in its simplest form please CLICK HERE.

And because I so totally enjoy being random, here is La Grange by ZZ Top. It really doesn't have much to do with anything this week. I just happen to like this song. It was released in 1973, the same year that F#cking Bill was also " released ".

For more information regarding La Grange please CLICK HERE.

Happy Saturday All !!

XXOXOX

Bunny

The Eyes Are The Windows Of Your Face.

2009-08-11T19:02:00.009-04:00

THIS WEBSITE has done an analysis of my personality based on the following photo of my face;

Yes, this pic is one of those photos. It has been heavily cropped.

So here it is;

This woman reacts to a situation instantly. She is known to make split second decisions. The impulsive type, she can also be pretty emotional. Her patience with others eventually wears thin, and she can show annoyance if someone rubs her the wrong way.
The woman is pretty conservative in her views; she likes a traditional, established lifestyle.
She rejects conservative lifestyles and beliefs, and instead prefers to create new ideas, invent new methods, and find new solutions in just about any environment: work, school or home.
She figures she can't afford to lose her temper or raise her voice when irritated. This would not be smart. So she tries to keep her feelings balanced.
In terms of making friends and meeting people, she is selective. She chooses friends carefully and deliberately, and is just as purposeful in buying a television as selecting a friend. You'll just have to sit down and get comfortable while she researches and makes her final purchase; it may take a while.
This woman is disciplined and methodical and may be successful in life as a solid businessperson.
She has an eye for fashion detail and a natural talent for creating stylish combinations.
An optimistic woman, her strong, independent personality may be reflected in her music and clothing tastes.
The woman tends to be somewhat insecure or unsure of herself, but tries to raise her self-esteem by weighing her own knowledge and experience against other people's knowledge and experience.
She is thrifty and saves money. Marriage, home and family are very important priorities for her.

My patience ? Wearing thin at times ? Who ? Me ? Naahhhhh........ hehehe.

The Mister laughed his ass off when he read that.

Anywho....anyone else have any thoughts ???? Drop me a line.

If the title of this post does not make any sense to you please CLICK HERE.

Oh yeah...the Sox got in a big ol' fracas last night. Youkbacca charged the mound and was then ejected from the game. My man Mikey Lowell then came in as Youk's replacement and promptly belted not one but TWO homers ! GOD I LOVE MIKE LOWELL !!!!!

Xooooo

Bunny

F#ckin' Bill. **

2009-08-10T19:09:00.003-04:00

So the other night ( after we got home from the wedding we went to ) The Mister and I were lying in bed, it was late and I was trying to drift off to sleep after all the day's excitement.
( I ended up with the Bride's bouquet...yeah, I know. I'm married. Believe me, it's not worth explaining......)

The Mister had the TV tuned to Comedy Central, which was airing a George Lopez stand-up special. I was facing away from the TV, but I could still hear the comedic styling of Mr. Lopez and had myself numerous chuckles.
I had been laughing heartily enough that I decided to turn over and give Mr. Lopez my full attention.

He's really quite funny you know - sort of like the Hispanic Sinbad.

At any rate, he ( George ) went on and on about his friend Ralph. He had related to the audience that his buddy Ralph had, from a very early age, been given the moniker " F#cking Ralph " by his peer group.
He ( George ) mused about how Ralph had become separated from the rest of his peer group at the movie theatre one night and despite many attempts at calling him by his full given name he failed to respond. So they had Ralph paged as " F#cking Ralph ", to which he promptly responded.

After a few more giggles on my part I said to The Mister;

" Gee, you know, we do the same thing with your brother......... F#cking Bill. "

To which he said;

" You know, we do. We ALL do...."

Perhaps the next time we have to necessitate calling Bill over a PA system we should have him paged as " F#cking Bill. ".

Something tells me though, that if we were ever to actually do that to Bill that the moment he made eye contact with us or was within earshot there would be HELL. TO. PAY., which may or may not include a steam of obscenities and multiple, less-than-kind hand gestures.

XOXO
Bunny

** Bill, I'm addressing you directly now....I feel that I should tell you that when we refer to you as " F#cking Bill " we do so with utmost respect and in the most affectionate manner possible.

The New Models Are Coming Out Early This Year......

2009-08-08T21:34:00.004-04:00

Here is the 2009 Model of " Bunny & The Mister ".

Or as I prefer to call us.........." Mr. & Mrs. Hot Stuff ".

Xoooo

Bunny

P.S. We went to a wedding today.

Retro Music Friday - My Violent Thud Onto Terra Firma.

2009-08-07T14:05:00.006-04:00

Hey.....Y'all remember me telling you about my " older " client ? Should you need to refresh your collective memories please click HERE and HERE.

So I happened to be at her apartment yesterday, you know, vacuuming smashed potato chips out of the carpet for the 49,993rd time this year. ( despite the number of times I've oh-so-nicely asked her to try to eat her preferred brand of chips a bit more daintily she continues to tear into those shiny, yellow bags like a stray dog prowling the streets on the night before trash day. ) She never " asks " me to vacuum up the chips.......she shakes her little, arthritic, elderly finger at me and tells me I've got some cleaning to do........ Which I usually follow up with telling her that if she weren't such a slob I wouldn't have so much cleaning to do. To which she tells me that 1) she can't help it and 2) she's too old to give a rat's ass about cleanliness anymore.

I realize that all this seems like it's pretty harsh, but I can assure all of you that it's really quite comical.

I also fixed up her hair and slapped a clean shirt on her before dinner among other things yesterday. At one point I had my back turned to her and she gave me a compliments of sorts;

" Gee Hon, you look really skinny from the back. "

Translation: Your ass isn't so fat anymore.

( I've lost a significant amount of weight.....)

I turned to thank her for her kind words but before I could utter anything she jumped in with the following statement.

" It's just too bad about your face......"

( had some issues with clogged pores lately. )

As I stood there with my mouth agape, at a loss to verbalize on the moment, she began to giggle uncontrollably.

I then closed my mouth and proceeded to gather up all her dirty laundry.

You know, I find these little moments humbling. Mostly between slams of forehead into the nearest wall.

Not sure if any of you've heard, but John Hughes passed away yesterday morning. Please enjoy this little montage of his fine films.

I think my favorite John Hughes moment is Anthony Micheal Hall sitting in the ghetto bar, bombed out of his gourd, in Weird Science. Which sadly I am unable to find a video of at this time.

And yours ????

XOOOO

Bunny

Desk Chair Yoga.

2009-08-05T06:45:00.005-04:00

So, it seems I have sort of this unconscious habit of doing what The Mister refers to as " Desk Chair Yoga ".
As I cruise the interwebs shoe shopping and reading trashy celebrity gossip all the while pretending that my fan-dom of The Huffington Post TOTALLY negates any browsing I may do over at People.com......I have the tendency to stretch a bit.

I guess it goes a little something like this;

Arms over head, hands interlocked and raised as high as I can get them. Then the raised arms / interlocked hands get shifted from side to side for a good thirty seconds or so on each side. Then I put one hand at a time behind my head and push my elbow down until I have my palm between my shoulder blades. Repeat with the other arm. Sometimes I then scoot the chair back and push against the desk while flexing my legs out straight underneath the desk.

The Mister seems to enjoy watching this whole routine. Especially if it's the AM class of Desk Chair Yoga as I'm usually wearing something skimpy that constitutes Pjs and my hair looks like I've stuck my finger in a light socket.

He's made some rather lewd statements regarding " Desk Chair Yoga " that I will not reiterate. I feel I must do my part to maintain any shred of a reputation he has of being an upstanding citizen - or something like that.

XXOO
Bunny

" How Random Can We Be ? " - The Mister

2009-08-04T21:20:00.003-04:00

So if some were to ask us ( Me & The Mister ) what we happened to do say this evening.......this
would be most likely what we'd be apt to relate to said inquiring individual;

" Well, first I ( Bunny ) modeled some perspective outfits for a wedding that we're attending this weekend while The Mister dispensed his fashion advice. Then we reheated leftover pasta and turkey meatballs for dinner while we listened to The Allman Brothers and read the Crate and Barrel catalog. Then we had some cocktails. Then I ( Bunny ) cleaned a deceased lady's jewelry that I sort of inherited - then The Mister decided that " Dead Lady's Gems " would be a great name for a band. Then we had some more cocktails while we ate berries and watched " The Dolla Dance " on YouTube. Then we talked about having a bunch of parties. Then we made fun of my ( Bunny's ) sister for a few minutes. Then we ate some chocolate pudding while we decided that we really couldn't picture Mumbles Mile doing " The Dolla Dance " while we listened to The Tom Tom Club's remake of " Love To Love You Baby. "

^ BTW, this entire time I was clothed only in my undergarments. ^

The Mister expressed his thoughts that the above described evening activities would not at all be out of line say, if we were heroin addicts. However, heroin addicts we are not. We're just, well.....random. That and....we have no kids.

XXOO
Bunny

Dawn Comes To Marblehead.

2009-08-03T10:31:00.003-04:00

This weekend The Mister and I were puttering around the house, tidying up and whatnot.....
We were listening to the radio whilst doing so and the song Lola by The Kinks came on.

I didn't think much of it since it was probably the 999,963rd time I've heard it in my life.
I don't really know how many times The Mister has heard this song. I guess not quite as many as myself........mid-putter he stopped and asked the following;

" Hey, is this song........is this song about a Tranny ? "

I had no witty retort to that question. I affirmed that in fact, yes, " Lola " is about a Tranny and went on about my business.

In a somewhat related story; The Mister was 19 before he found out that his " Aunt S" was really biologically related to him. He had been under the impression, for the whole of his 19 years, that " Aunt S " had belonged to the neighbors and that his Grandmother had adopted her.

I should share with you that when The Mister's mother realized that he had believed that " Aunt S " was adopted she laughed her butt off. As did " Aunt S " when the story was related to her.

I guess you could say that although I'm more chronically, dripping faucet " dim bulb on the circuit " - the Mister tends to drop carpet bombs of dim bulb-ness.

XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday.

2009-07-31T16:43:00.004-04:00

I know, I know. It's been a long ass time since I've posted ANYTHING, let alone a RMF.

Wanna know how I knew I was getting old ? When Michael Douglas went from playing the love interest to playing the Dad. Next stop.....AARP*** !

Although it seems Danny DeVito doesn't age at all, does it ?

Wanna know how else I knew I was getting old ? I'm the only person in my office who knows who Marcus Welby is. Well, besides my boss - but she's the same age as my Mom. Take that for what it's worth. I can't spend too much time thinking about that........I might risk my brain exploding.

At any rate......here is When The Going Gets Tough by Billy Ocean. 1985 - I was nine. if you look to the left you'll see Michael Douglas, Kathleen Turner and Danny DeVito

Is it just me or does it seem that Billy Ocean was the 80's version of Seal ? Yeah, I thought so.

XXOO

Bunny

*** I got an AARP card in the mail when I was 29. And I lost my shit. I was all like...." AARP ! I'M FLIPPIN' 29 YEARS OLD ! WTF !!!! " One other time I found one gray hair on my head. One. One lone gray in a sea of chocolate / mahogany brown. And I lost my shit. I was all like, jumping and down and screaming at The Mister " OH MY GOD ! OH MY GOD ! IT'S A GRAY ! RIP IT OUT ! RIP IT OUT NOW !!! HELP ME RIP OUT THIS GOD DAMNED GRAY HAIR !! "

I think that flip out in the bathroom was a sufficient warning shot to all the other hair on my head. I've not seen a gray since.

Before Y'All Go Putting Out And A.P.B.......

2009-07-28T21:05:00.003-04:00

I'm still here........I've just been super-busy being all existential and reflective and philosophical and whatnot...... Take it from the horse's mouth - Self Actualization is mighty exhausting work.

I have sort of a Free Association type post I'm hopefully going to throw at ya later in the week.
Perhaps when I have a brief spell of acedia I'll actually post it. Right now it's just a bunch of gobbledee gook in my brain. So.....stay tuned.

But I will leave you with this little gem;

I have discovered that THIS goes really smashingly with Vodka. Not only that, it also goes very smashingly with ice cubes and a lime wedge. And a glass.......
In fact, they all go a little TOO smashingly together.....so much so that it felt as if someone was smashing me in the forehead with a lead pipe today.

BTW, for those of you in the New England area....here is Bunny's guide to cheap drinking in the Bay State / Ocean State area.......the aforementioned lemonade is TWO DOLLARS at Job Lot. It's 3.99 at Shaws ! Hey, I got no shame. I shop at Job Lot.
So save yourselves the moolah and head over to Job Lot.
And, a handle ( the big bottle ) of Tangueray Vodka ( not Kettle One, but it can hold its own with the big boys..) is 21.99 at Yankee Spirits.
And for kicks....limes are three for a buck at Lamberts.
Ice is free.

See ya later in the week !

XO
Bunny

If Cute Was A Weapon These Kids Would Be On Death Row.

2009-07-08T22:53:00.003-04:00

Late last week I was introduced to these little gems by my co-worker " H " - who will from this point on be known as CookieGirl83.

This is the original version of "Charlie Bit Me "

And here is the remix version.

I thanked CookieGirl83 for getting this little ditty stuck in my head for two days.

If you're able to go about your life and not have " Charlie Bit Me " playing on a continous loop in your head, well....kudos to you.

Enjoy !

Bunny

He Knows He Only Gets Five.

2009-07-05T19:50:00.002-04:00

So it seems that The Mister's Freebie list is nearing capacity. He filled the # 4 slot last night with....get this......someone I brought to his attention. Yep. Little ol' me. Helping my man fill out his Freebie list.
I sure if you asked him he'd tell you that as far as spouses go, I'm the Bomb Diggity.
Furthermore, I'm sure he'd also tell you that as far as spouses go, I am my own list.

So here is The Mister's Freebie List as it stands now;

1. Padma.
Sometimes I'll walk into the living room and he'll be paused on an old episode of Top Chef and I'll say something like, " Gee Hon, haven't you seen this one before ? ". To which he usually responds - " Yeah, and ? " - which is almost always accompanied by a wild, faraway look in his eye.
Padma is like Cher or Madonna in our house. She only needs one name.

2. Rosario Dawson.
Rosie is usually met with a noise that can best be described as a cross between a Meow and a Growl.

3. Thandie Newton.
I always know when Mission Impossible is running on USA or TNT or some channel because The Mister will actually talk to the TV- I call it the T-Newt Chorus and it goes a little something like this;
" Well, hello there......( raised eyebrows ) how are you ? ( more raised eyebrows ). Whadda ya say you and me get together sometime ??"

And finally, the latest addition to the list;

4. Katy Perry.
Yup, the I Kissed A Girl singer. But apparently her addition to the list is in it's probationary phase. Provided she can keep looking LIKE THIS and not well, like a teenage girl with a head injury.

And Speaking of the Apples Not Hanging Too Far Apart On The Tree - I spoke with The Mister's brother not too long ago. We had a lovely conversation that covered many topics, including the passing of Farrah Fawcett. The Mister and his brother had NEAR IDENTICAL statements regarding Ms. Fawcett. NEAR IDENTICAL I TELL YOU !
Here it is;

" Yeah, she had a nice face, but she's not curvy enough for me. "

And speaking of Freebies, my friend K had a great idea. She thought there should be a sort of Facebook type website wherein you can list your Freebies with a pic and short bio of yourself. The point being that people could cruise the website and if say, your Freebie happened upon your profile and thought you happened to be cute, well - you get the idea.

Oh, and my Freebies ? ** cough cough **
In no particular order are;

HERE,

HERE,

and

HERE.

Have a nice evening all !

XO
Bunny

Happy 4th Of July !

2009-07-04T08:01:00.002-04:00

This is the best version of the Star Spangled Banner I've ever heard.

Have a Happy & Safe 4th All !

Bunny

Requiem For An Old Lover.

2009-07-01T21:30:00.004-04:00

Hi Johnny,

It's me, Bunny. Remember me ? I used to watch you on 21 Jump Street back in the day. You know, the dorky 11 year old girl with the Mrs. Roper perm and the stirrup pants with her face pressed up against the 17" TV in my parents living room ? Yeah, it's me.

It's been a long time Johnny and I gotta say, it's really nice to see you again. I mean, I know we had a long thing...is that a good name for what we had ? A thing ? It doesn't seem to cover the depth emotion between us, does it ? A thing........ Nah, that won't do at all. And a fling just sounds so trivial, you know, it smacks of Stella Getting Her Groove Back. No, no. Fling just sounds so......so cheap and tawdry.
We got history Johnny - you and me. We go back a long, long way.

I've always been there for you and you've never let me down. I know we caught each other's eye during the 21 Jump Street days....me with the bad perm, you with that drug store cowboy leather jacket. God, we were made for each other - it just felt so right. I know you felt it too.....you can't play that off like it was nothing with me. I was there, remember ?
Anyway, then there was What's Eating Gilbert Grape ? Ahhh...Gilbert Grape. I was there Johnny - opening night at the theatre. I even bought it on VHS when it was released.
I've always been a fan of your particular brand of theatrical genius.

Cry Baby ? check
Edward Scissorhands ? check
Benny & Joon ? check
Ed Wood ? check
Donnie Brasco ? DONNIE FREAKIN' BRASCO ! CHECK !

I was there for all of it.
You were like smack to me. I was helpless and addicted.

Yep, we had something Johnny.

But then as things go, we went our separate ways. I had to finish High School and you started dating that klepto skank Winona. Winona Forever.......pfffht. What was that about ? * shakes head * I was deeply saddened to hear about that hotel room you trashed. Gosh, that's just not you Johnny. Really. I knew that whole Winona-Forever-hotel-room-trashing phase was just a cover for the pain you must have felt after we split up. But I expected better from you. I was grateful to have gotten out when I did. Detoxing from you was hard. Long and painful.
But I had the support of really good friends and multiple half gallons of Friendly's Ice Cream to help me get over you.
I went on with my life and you went on with yours. I hear that you have two beautiful children, and I'm so very happy for you. I'm happy too, in case you were wondering. My Hubs is wonderful, I have a beautiful home and great job. I could go on and on.

I'm not quite sure how you pulled it off, but you've wormed your way back into my life. I saw Pirates Of The Carribean. In The Theatre. Yeah, I did. I know you didn't see me, I sat all the way in the back. I knew you were going to be in town and well, I just had to see how you were doing. You looked really great.
But still, the pain was there. It was too tough for me to see the sequels. Too. Hard. Ugh, I just could not do it. I thought it best to stay away. And now that I'm lactose intolerant the multiple half gallons of Friendly's Ice Cream wouldn't have been there to back me up. It would have been too difficult to do this solo.

I saw that you're on the cover of this month's Vanity Fair. Yep, there you were. Staring right back at me from the check out at Target. Beckoning me to throw you in my cart. And I was all, like....No Johnny, I can read the articles for free online. I'm not paying $4.99 for you to come home with me.
And then. Last Friday. Letterman.
Scuba diving with hot dogs ?

Dang It Johnny ! You've got me wrapped around your Gemini finger again ! What am I supposed to do with you ?

And guess what you made me do ? Yeah, I bought the freakin' Vanity Fair at CVS yesterday.
You were giving me " The Eyes ". I started sweating, my heart was racing. It wasn't pretty Johnny. I was a flustered, sputtering mess all over again.

Resistance is futile.
I'll tie up the tourniquet. - just shoot me up Johnny.
I'm yours all over again.

XO
Bunny

The Lesser Of Two Evils.

2009-06-30T21:33:00.002-04:00

I'd much rather it have been the Shamwow guy.

Retro Music Friday - The Apples Don't Hang Too Far Apart On The Tree.

2009-06-26T09:31:00.009-04:00

A few months ago I got my hands on my sweet Emmsie's cell phone number - which at the time I don't think she was altogether pleased about.

Perhaps I should put Emmsie in the proper frame for all of you.
Emmsie is my cousin and also my Goddaughter. I was 17 and a senior in HS when she was born. I was around to see her grow up for about a year and a half or so before I took off to college. When I'd come home on break from school I always made it a point to spend some time with her. Nothing could fill me with quite the level of glee as seeing a three-year old Emmsie, who'd not seen me in six months or so, run toward me with arms open, squeeing uncontrollably and smiling a big, cheeseball baby toothed grin ear to ear.
She knew that she would have my complete and undivided attention, what with her having two older brothers, undivided attention was hard to come by for her.
So there I would sit, in her cotton candy pink bedroom, letting her adorn me with all manner of plastic Pretty Pretty Princess jewelry, my hair a mess in those pastel colored barrettes after she'd " do you hairs " and there'd be no less than three " babies " in my lap.
In her less frenetic moments she used to find me, wherever I happened to be sitting, and curl up in my lap and rest her head in the crook of my neck.
She ate it up and so did I.

But as tends to happens, she's grown up and that cheeseball, baby-toothed grin has given way to her own particular brand of witty cynicism. I blame her brothers for her jaded outlook. The Mister and I had this conversation not too long ago that had she not been the youngest with two older brothers she might not have such a toughened exterior. They, like most young boys, were a couple of brutes who scrapped more often than not. Although I think she managed to stay out of the fray during the majority of these fisticuffs, I have no doubt that she got pulled into them more than a few times. She didn't get any free rolls of the dice from them because she happened to be a girl.

I think the upside of her having two older brothers is that she speaks fluent teenage boy. Woe to the young man who approaches her and perhaps tries to put the moves on her...Good Luck to you Buddy !

Anyway, as I said, she's grown up. These days she in the full on teenage girl mode, which if any of you are familiar with teenage girls...as I tell her brother who can't quite believe the magnitude of her sullen, snarkiness...it's tough to love a teenage girl sometimes.
I love her as best I can and try to hold on with both hands during the F5 teenage years. Basically, I spoil her rotten and don't bust her chops too much. I try to be her " safe place to land ", if you will. Which I think is all I can do really.

At any rate, as I was saying, I got her cell number not too long ago. Last night, while The Mister and I were watching the ball game I realized how much I missed her, so I shot her a text.
We had some amusing back and forths for a few minutes. Our texting wound down and I, thinking she'd perhaps had enough of what she perceives as my " Over 30 dorkiness ", put my phone down and went about my evening.
A few minutes passed and my phone text alert beeped. It was Emmsie.

Are you upset about Michael Jackson ?

I replied to her inquiry:
Um, not really. No. I was more upset when my favorite body wash was discontionued.

She shot back:
I can see you had a strong connection to said body wash. Either that or a very weak one with the black...excuse me.....white man.

I laughed my ass off and answered her back:
That body wash was awesome ! Besides, I'm old enough 2 remember when MJ was black.

Not to be outdone she answered me back:
I heard he was pretty kick ass in his blackness time.

As I seem to have a PhD in 80's music I shot back:
U should check out Billie Jean on YouTube. Talk about kick ass !

Let the snark begin:
It's not like I'm ignorant to that time. LOL.

Not wanting her to think I was busting said chops:
Wasn't implying that u were. Just saying Billie Jean was the pinnacle of his ass-kicking blackness.

And as she always needs to have the last word:
Noted.

With that my phone text alert went silent from then on.

So as I'm sure you've all heard, Michael Jackson bought the farm yesterday. As did Farrah Fawcett - poor thing fights cancer for three years and gets upstaged by MJ kicking the bucket.

To see Billie Jean, CLICK HERE.
For a little Farrah Fawcett love, CLICK HERE.
Girlfriend was certainly a whole lotta woman, and from what I read online, was quite a lovely person as well.

XO
Bunny

P.S. Did anyone else catch Johnny Depp on Letterman last night ? Yow.

In The Movie Of My Life The Part Of Stephanie Will Be Played By Patricia Arquette

2009-06-23T07:27:00.010-04:00

I've chronicled on this blog what came best be described as The Bunny & Steph Mutual Admiration Society. Steph is one of a handful of people in my life who " gets it ". Our little back and forths, whether by email, text or phone are highly amusing. I thought I'd let all of you in on one of the tamer email exchanges we've had.
Just so we're all on the same page - here is the cast characters appearing in the following email tete-a-tete.

Bunny - Me
Stephanie - Our best-est cousin. The Marcia to my Jan.
The Mister as The Mister
K - Stephanie's younger sister
Big G - Stephanie, K and The Mister's Grandmother.
Phyliss's ( sp ? ) sister - a hard to explain relation of Steph, K and The Mister
____________________________________________

Original Message
From: Stephanie H
To: Bunny
Sent: Sunday June 21, 2009
Subject: address

I know I have it somewhere, but what is your new address? I'm sending you something.
__________________________________________

Original Message
From: Bunny
Sent: Monday, June 22, 2009
To: Stephanie H
Subject: Re: address

Sending something....to us ? I....I don't know what to say. I feel so......... so special !!!!!

You like me ! You really like me !
( squeeeee........)

Just kidding. Don't mean to sound sarcastic. It's early and I've not had enough coffee yet.
Perhaps are you sending us yourself in a box ? That would so rock.
( music starts in my head.....)

" It's Steph in a box.........it's our Steph in a booooo-xxxxx !

^^ get it ? Like " Dick in a box " ^^ hehe

Like I said, not enough coffee yet.

Anywho....here goes;

3** (____) Avenue
(_____) , RI
02**5

You can Zillow our house if you want.

The Mister talked to K on Sat. night. She was holed up in Big G's bedroom trying to hide from Phyliss's ( sp ? ) sister. In K's words
" Man, she's really f'ing wierd. Just. Wierd. "

And those two ( The Mister & K ) had their own personal Beavis and Butthead moment. You know when little kids say things that are " adult " funny, but have no idea what they said was so funny.

Sometimes Senior Citizens ( I refrained from calling Big G " Elderly " - lest she get wind of me calling her " Elderly " and kick my now-size-10/12 ass ) say " Gen X " things and have no idea how funny they sound.

Apparently Grandma had, I guess, wandered into the bedroom and told Krissy that everyone was outside watching " Cornhole".

All I heard was The Mister snicker and say " Did Grandma just say " Cornhole " ? THAT ROCKS ! "

Ahhh....it's the little things, huh ?

As I style myself as somewhat of an artist, I find inspiration in these little life moments.

Please follow the link.

http://www.someecards.com/usercards/viewcard/e844b373deb12d35af8803242329666c

XO
Me

__________________________________________

From: Stephanie H
To: Bunny
Sent: Monday June 22, 2009
Subject: RE: address

You are special. I should send you more shit but I am a loser friend. If it is any consolation, I think of you guys A LOT.

I will miss you terribly when I am at the family reunion next week.

I think you will like your present.
_______________________________________________

From: Bunny
Sent: Monday, June 22, 2009
To: Stephanie H
Subject: RE: address

Yes. I am special. I'm special in that " short bus " kinda way......
Did you follow the link I sent you ? Did u not laugh your ass off ?
Hehehe...Cornhole. hehe.

Just curious....what exactly do you think when you think of us ?

Does a warm sensation of genuine affection wash over you filling you with a glee so intense that you glow like an overweight person at the Old Country Buffet ?
Or is it more like a " I hope this doesn't turn into a rash. " type feeling ?

Btw, unlike you I have a warm, genuine affection for IKEA ( but only mon- friday ) however I think I am safe in the assumption that we both would rather our husbands be caught red-handed on Cops propositioning a tranny prostitute than dine at the OCB.

Would I be correct in that assumption ?

You know, as I am trying to think about writing a book, I may devote an entire chapter to our little back and forth emails. Perhaps do you have some of them saved ? Yes, you read that correctly. I'm trying to think about writing a book.

It has a working title. And a dedication page.

XO
me.

____________________________________________

From: Stephanie H
To: Bunny
Date: Monday June 22, 2009
Subject: RE: address

Yes.

Somewhere between the former and the latter. :)

And OMG yes.
______________________________________________

From: Bunny
To: Stephanie
Date: Monday June 22, 2009
Subject: RE: address

You are the textbook definition of a Capricorn.

I....the quintessential Aries.

Yet somehow we make it work. =)

____________________________________________

Xoooo

Bunny

I <3 Craigslist.

2009-06-22T07:44:00.002-04:00

We're all familiar with Craiglist. There is a veritable treasure trove of goods and services on Craigslist that will fulfill almost every need you can have.
Why just this past Friday we went in search of someone to take all the white trash crap the previous owners left behind in the barn.
We thought we'd try to profit off their hillbilly propensity for collecting useless junk, but alas, trying to find someone to pick up all the junk AND pay you for it was difficult.
We had to resort to Craigslist.
The very first ad we came across was a guy named Al. His ad was right to the point;

" I take scrap metal, lawnmowers, etc. Will pick up. Call 401-***-**** "

I called Al and not six hours later all the white trash crap was gone. In twenty minutes. Gone. Poof.

At any rate, my friend " K " ( 'memba her ? She dusted my naked ass with glitter... yeah her. ) and her boyfriend " J " came over for dinner about a month ago and introduced me to
The Best Of Craigslist.

Oh. My. God. This my friends, is priceless comedy. Although sometimes I have a difficult time discerning who is really just a moron and who's being ironic. It's a fine line sometimes.
I now occasionally peruse the Best Of postings for laughs. I came across this one the other night. From what I can gather it is a reply to a previous posting. Here goes;
Original post in blue. Reply comments in purple.
I know this is a long one, but stick with it - I dare you not to LOL.

Re: What I want in a woman........ - 45 (Western Carolina)

Sorry for the late response. By now, you may actually have found someone out there who’s perfect for you. If not, I thought I’d give it a shot.

• Can go hiking in the morning, looks good in a ball cap with her hair pulled through the whole in the back and still be able to attend a formal dinner that night

Hiking I’m down with, though I never, ever wear ball caps. I’m also perfectly flexible with where I go so I can easily change from hiking to formal dinners. As a thought though, you should consider the poor girls who are only going hiking for your sake, come back with their feet covered in blisters, and are then expected to don heels and go out all night to some formal dinner. High expectations?

• Knows the difference between an offensive guard, tackle and tight end

Ha, I have no clue. Are you really going to strike out an amazing girl because she doesn’t know football terms?

• Knows the difference between the NFC and AFC

I believe those terms are football related as well. National and American football league? I had someone give me the answer so I bet I’m right. But does it count if I had to ask someone else? Or is it ok since I’m obviously trying to learn?

• Cares about what she eats but is not so hung up on her diet that she can’t enjoy hot wings, a good pig pick’in and an ice cold beer

You are disgusting. Maybe you should just date a guy. He might be really into all of that.

• Is as comfortable sitting in a dive bar on the beach as she is sitting next to me in church

Well, you sound incredibly religious…dive bars? If she’s that comfortable in church, I doubt she’ll be super comfortable in a dive bar. Personally, I wouldn’t take you up on either. I’m not religious, likely a turn-off for you, and I’d rather go somewhere other than a dive bar likely surrounded by perverts and desperate guys. (Much like yourself it sounds like).

• Enjoys working in the yard and creating something that’s nice and enjoyable

Well damn. Couldn’t this have been listed in a “likes outdoors” category? Possibly listed with hiking. Or are they that different? But hey, I might have finally gotten one right! I’m definitely a big fan of plants. I name them, that ok?

• Can find the joy in any small child

ANY small child? Even the snot-nosed brats that now roam the playgrounds, trampling everything in their paths and stealing the swings? I don’t think so. Maybe you should have left out the word “any.” I can’t believe any women could find joy in absolutely any small child unless the clock is ticking like crazy. Is that what you’re looking for? Maybe you should have specified that.

• Enjoys and exemplifies her femininity through clothes, light make up and manicured hands and pedicured toes

Man, what happened to the guys that liked the whole “natural look.” Damn you media for letting me believe that for so long. Guess I’ll have to start wearing makeup again. Total bummer. Also, I’m not sure how well that pedicure is going to hold up if she’s hiking all day. And that manicure won’t look so hot after she’s been out in the garden all day planting whatever it was you wanted. Does she also have to be feminine on the hike or just at the formal event? Ball caps don’t usually scream feminine to me but they seem to be a pre-req. Maybe a pink one would suit your fancy.

• Has cute feet

I for one do not have cute feet. Want to know why? I’ll tell you. It’s because I love hiking and running and walking around barefoot and really anything outside that gets me moving. It’s killer on the feet. You can’t have it both ways.

• Has the ability to make me feel like she has been waiting for me all day, just to walk through the door

Sounds like you want a puppy. Would you really want a woman who has no life and waits for you to come home every single day. Scene: You: “Hi honey, how was your day?” Her: “Oh, it was horrible. I waited and waited for you to come home.” You: “Well did you do anything fun today?” Her: “Of course not, I was waiting for you to come home so you could entertain me.” Repeat the following day.

• Truly loves Jesus and understands what that means

You crack me up. Also, you truly sound like you know what that means. You’re superficial and you sound completely arrogant to be able to demand these things from someone. And what’s up with the dive bar? Did Jesus frequent dive bars? If he did, I doubt it was to pick up chicks, which is what I’m assuming you’re doing.

• Who prays earnestly

Shall I pray for you to stop making the male race look so incredibly stupid?

• Understands that sex is not a weapon that should be used to prove a point or to be withheld for any reason

Sounds like you’re bitter about an ex girlfriend. Did she withhold sex because you were an arrogant prick? Bet you deserved it.

• Understands that sex is…….. to be performed between only two people who commit their lives to one another in the sight of God!

Oh, so you’re waiting until marriage? Or does God make exceptions for you? Guess it won’t work out for us…I definitely didn’t wait. I hope God was at least entertained.

• Understands that sex……..can and should be performed in many different ways and positions. NOTHING absolutely NOTHING is taboo

You sound like you have some knowledge of this subject. See above comment. Nothing is taboo? Just wait… Oh, you meant none of your fantasies are taboo. What about all of hers? Better hope she isn’t too out there…

• Understands that men love oral sex……. Its just the way it is! She should love doing it and look for opportunities to surprise me with it

I would like to add that women do too. You have to give it to get it.

• Loves to dress up a pair of jeans with high heels (especially those little open toed ones) and a nice blouse

Anything non superficial? I’ll wear that if you wear a nice button up shirt and a pair of jeans that makes your ass look really really hot. And those shoes I like. I hope I’m allowed to ask for that…you did.

• Is beautiful inside and out

I’m guessing you actually mean hot though so I’ll give you measurements. You can decide whether or not I meet the qualifications. 5’8”, 123(ish) pounds, shoulder length brown hair, and I’m a runner so you know I’ve got great legs. I’m a size 5 jeans. My bra size is 34B. Does that cut it? Am I hot enough for you? Bet I’d make you look good. It certainly wouldn’t be the other way around.

• Puts family first…….. immediate family or extended family

Sorry, I can’t go out with you tonight, I’m meeting my mom for dinner. Nope, can’t do Friday either, I’m meeting my second cousin. Saturday is booked. I’m taking my step-cousin, once removed, to the mall, then I’m meeting up with my uncle for a movie. Maybe I can squeeze you in between my aunt Selma and my cousin Fred on Tuesday afternoon around 3. You free?

• Understands that you can’t choose your family you can only choose your friends

Also, you can pick your nose and you can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose. Though in this day and age, you could. Just take them to get plastic surgery.

• Actually has close friends.

Is it ok if I put them before you on a regular basis? Or should I wait at home for you to come home twiddling my thumbs instead?

• Understands that seeing old friends is a good thing. Even if its old girlfriends ( I’m with you, not them, get over it)

Bitter much? You can see your ex girlfriends if I can hang out with all of my ex boyfriends when you aren’t around and without your knowledge.

• Likes to spoon in bed as much as she does like to sleep apart or just touch feet

So she’s open to doing whatever? Could have just said that.

• That taking a shower together is one of the greatest ways to start the day

Is this a subtle hint that you want sex in the morning or do you just really like cleanliness? It is after all next to godliness.

• Enjoys creating a new meal together. Starting on a Saturday morning going to the store and shopping for the food, preparing the food Saturday afternoon and then eating it with a glass of wine….. all day, together. No other agenda.

How am I going to stay in shape if the whole day is focused on food? This does not compute.

• Doesn’t have to know how to build things, but at least has no problem holding the other end of the board for me.

At this point, I’d happily hold the board for you and use it to slap you in the face. You down? Or can I be the one to hold the hammer and you the board?

• Won’t freak out when she comes home and I have all of the bedroom furniture in the living room and I’m repainting the walls because Home Depot had a sale on paint. Instead, she says “I’ll order a pizza and change clothes and help”. Knowing that the color may not be perfect, but who cares……its only paint!

Oh, so she gets absolutely no input into what happens in her own home. That shows that you really respect her and her input. Nice.

• Can sit around and watch a good tv show (although, good tv shows are few and far between)

If there are so few, you should probably have specified what you mean. It’s doubtful you’d agree with her choice of shows. I’d like to watch CNN and Gilmore Girls reruns. I think they’re both excellent.

• Understands that hard work should be rewarded with good pay.

I agree. Also, women should receive the same salaries men do.

• Understands that the guy digging the ditch may work “harder” than the guy in the pickup truck who is watching him, but understands that the guy in the pickup truck is the one who is taking all the risks……. Who had to estimate, bid, negotiate, plan, put fuel in the trucks, pay taxes and do all the billing just to make sure the guy in the ditch has a job.

I’m incredibly confused by this statement you arrogant prick. Yes, putting fuel in a truck is risky business. I’m sure he really appreciates the risk you’ve taken. I don’t think you could hack it at doing manual labor.

• Does not believe in socialism

I am a hardcore socialist.

• Understands that there is nothing wrong with finding ways to live “greener” and protect our environment and leave as little of a carbon footprint as possible, but who also understands that the Gov. shouldn’t shove this down my throat through regulations but achieves the goal through incentives.

So can we raise taxes to pay for these incentives? Or should we cut funding for the war to pay for these incentives? Or are you more of a cut funding for education type? Not attractive.

• Likes dogs and cats

I love animals. Can I bring all 22 of my cats when I come to visit just to prove my point?

• Likes a real fire not the gas log things

I hope you have a real fireplace and not a display kind.

• Can wear a skirt, a dress, jeans, shorts or a bathing suit….. depending on the situation. Although, she may not look perfect in any or all of them, doesn’t worry about it because I think she’s hot

I know you’d think I’m hot. But would you really be ok with any woman wearing a bathing suit. You better add in some other superficial requirements before you write that. Also, do I get to specify what you wear on any given occasion or is that entirely the man’s prerogative?

• Shaves her legs regularly

All the way up or just to the knees?

• Shaves other places regularly

I will if you’ll manscape.

• Enjoys vacationing at the beach, the mountains, or an amusement part.

I love a good roller coaster. ‘Bout time you got one thing right.

• Likes to give a slow methodical hand job right after she gets her nails done. (Hot pink, whore red, or French) are my favorite.

Only if I can use my nails the whole time. I think I’ll get them pointy. Don’t worry, they’ll still be whore red.

• Has good teeth and a great smile

Check and check. I hope you floss and don’t have coffee stains on yours.

• Can listen to country music, rock and roll, jazz or Christian or old dance music and enjoy them

Can listen to screamo, punk, metal, techno… Don’t worry, I can listen to anything. Can you?

• Who likes to work out and stay in shape

I believe this has been covered. I’ll run, you try to keep up.

• Can flirt with me from across a crowded room and no one ever know it

You won’t even know it buddy ‘cause it’s not happening. In your dreams maybe.

• Is willing and desires to sneak off after flirting for a “quickie”

Guess you don’t want a proper young lady. Also, God might not approve of such shenanigans.

• Would be willing to drive 100 miles to see an ol’ drive in movie

I’d much prefer for you to do the driving. I’ll stay behind. 100 miles between us sounds like an excellent idea.

• Doesn’t have any hang-ups about my facial hair. The winter comes, I might grow it, I might not, I might have a goatee, I might not

So I have to shave everything and you get to grow a beard? I don’t do facial hair. I’ll shave my legs if you shave your face.

• Understands that I’m going to keep my hair short….. I’m not going to color it, I’ve worked hard for the gray hair I have…. It shows experience

Can I have gray hair too or is that unacceptable for a woman?

• Can sew a button on a shirt and iron it

Iron your own clothes.

• Likes to have the door opened for her, car door, store door any door

As opposed to having it closed in our faces? Why thank you for being so considerate.

• Understands that I’m going to do everything I can to keep gas in your car. I know you can do it yourself…. But you shouldn’t have to

Sounds like I can finally get that Hummer I’ve had my eye on. Glad to hear you’ll fill it up for me.

• Knows how to give and receive a good massage

I can definitely give a good one but knows how to receive a good massage? Do I have to do more than sit there and enjoy it? Oh, I know. You want sex after.

• Would like it if I took her shopping, helped her pick out clothes for her, waited for her to try them on…..just dote on her all day long….. making her feel special

I would not feel special if trapped in a mall all day. I’d much rather be outside or at least somewhere not spending gobs of money. And I can pick out my own clothes thank you.

• Understands that her Daddy will always be her Daddy….. but I’m her man

No worries, I’m not going to fuck my daddy. I get the difference.

• Will NEVER dress in a little girl outfit for sexual purposes. Little girls are special and should never be looked upon in that way

Pedophile?

• WILL dress for me in other ways………….

Let me just go grab my French maid’s outfit. You better have something equally alluring though.

• Still gets excited on Christmas morning

I don’t do holidays. Bummer for you I guess.

• Understands that Christmas time includes the decorations, stockings (for everyone) and a REAL tree. I don’t care how much it costs I want a real tree

Even the dog? I bet Scruffy would like a stocking. Also, I prefer fake so I don’t have to kill a tree every year.

• Understands that Christmas ornaments should have meaning. They should be made by children or be gifts.

Did you keep all of the ornaments you made in Sunday school? And can I really not hang an ornament for the sole reason of finding it pretty?

• Also understands that any ornament a child makes is PERFECT regardless of what it looks like

Damn, sounds like your clock is ticking now.

• Will leave me alone when I’m in the bathroom

Really? But I wanted to come in and watch you take a shit.

• Is not a lesbian ( I know it’s the “in” thing but NOOOOO)

No worries, you aren’t even going to get any desperate, straight girls with this kind of ad.

• Can be a biker babe for a weekend

As in wear the stretchy tight pants or bike 50 miles?

• Believes that when a person dies, they should be buried not cremated

Burials are a waste of space and bad for the environment. I’d rather just be stuck in the ground, but seeing as how that isn’t an option in this society, I’ll go for cremation. Or maybe I’ll donate my body to science.

• Truly looks forward to “date night”.

Did you truly plan “date night” or are we going out somewhere last minute in the hopes that I’ll be so appreciative that you took time out of your busy day that I’ll give you a blow job later.

• Likes to watch me work out

Can I work out too or just sit and watch?

• Understands that I’m going to drive a truck and likes it

I’ll like it if you’ll offer to help me move.

• Wants me to tell her to sit next to me in my truck

I don’t want to be told to do anything. Do you want a doormat for a girlfriend. Or maybe a puppy? I really think you should just get a dog.

• Understands that I’m going to wear boots and jeans most of the time

But I have to wear heels? That seems fair.

• Also understands that I’m multifaceted…. I own, hiking boots, casual dress up shoes, formal dress up shoes, soccer shoes, softball shoes, flip flops, walking shoes, running shoes, casual everyday shoes

You spent money on walking shoes? Can I laugh now? Yes, your shoe selections definitely shows just how multifaceted you are.

• Understands that having sex regularly is not once or twice a week

We’ll have to talk about that. Maybe we can set up some sort of a schedule. Or do you like spontaneity?

• Is not afraid of business ventures and gets excited about new business opportunities

How about the business ventures that take me out of town for the weekends with my sexy coworkers? Those sound like fun.

• Likes to renovate old houses

As long as you’re the one handling the upstairs floor with all the holes in it. I’d much rather see you fall through the ceiling.

• Would stop on the side of the road and pick up an ol wandering mutt or kitten

I move turtles, does that count? Has anyone ever posted pictures of their lost pet after you decided to pick it up off the side of the road?

• Who doesn’t use the term “get at me” when referring to calling or contacting someone

I’ve never even considered it. I just hope you don’t use the term “Git-r-done.”

• Who understands and can speak the English language.

Well, she read this far. That’s pretty good.

• Who would rather receive a card or flowers on an average day then expect them on Valentine’s Day. Anyone can give gifts on the day they are expected but its special when its not expected

I agree. Just promise not to get mad when I tell you I don’t want to celebrate Valentine’s Day.

• Who knows how to tend to plants and likes to plant gardens and flowers

You already said that.

• Who absolutely knows and enjoys the fact that she is the most important thing in my life…… because she will be treated as such

Please, get a hobby.

Also, I neglected to mention the first three attributes you mentioned…

1) A chef in the kitchen
2) A maid for cleaning the house
3) and a whore in the bedroom!

I’m flattered. I bet all women are. I can cook and I’m good at it but it’s a lot more fun if the guy cooks too. Otherwise, you might as well hire someone. Or maybe you could go back to your mother’s house. To the other two, do you really expect women to respond to an ad where you call her a maid? What, do you just come home from work and put your feet up and expect her to come home and clean up all of your messes? You disgust me. And I hope you aren’t still expecting sex after all of this. I hope you’re still a virgin because otherwise I feel bad for every woman who has ever made the mistake of sleeping with you.

Out of curiosity, are you God? Because really, only someone who’s completely perfect should be able to make all of these demands of a woman. And you don’t just make tons of demands…sorry, expectations, most of what you list is entirely superficial. I’ll admit to having my own list, but it includes things more like “challenges me” and “motivated,” not “looks good in a ball cap” and has “pedicured toes.”

I just want to give you some idea of what a real person might actually be like. Maybe you should rework your list accordingly. After reading this, I’ve realized that I’m the antithesis of your perfect women. I’d like to think all guys out there aren’t like you. If they are, I give up.

Good luck with the whole desperation thing. Totally not attractive.

Location: Asheville
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1182084422

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't know the woman who wrote the reply to this ad, but I love her.
And I've got three words for this guy.....

MAIL. ORDER. BRIDE.

XO
Bunny

Theory Vs. Reality, Ark Building, Missing 80's Pop Stars, Facebook & An Apology.

2009-06-20T10:39:00.006-04:00

This morning while sipping back some coffee The Mister and I were watching HGTV ( Holmes On Homes ). As we have many home improvement projects going and more plans coming down the pipe we seem to be tuning into HGTV more and more these days. As many home owners can attest to - working on your house yourself can fill you with a sense of accomplishment that is mighty intoxicating.
I've painted nearly every vertical surface in our house (I'm the painter around here....The Mister ? Not so much. However let it be known that I have never touched the lawnmower. ) and I won't deny it.....when I finish up painting a room I feel like a badass, my ego perhaps inflated a little more than it should be.

There is perhaps one pitfall to HGTV. Although they have many shows devoted to encouraging and/or instructing people on how to do minor weekend-long projects and redecorating their residences - they also seem to fill the viewer with a false sense of oh....Bob Vila-ness. Like " Hey, if these people can rip down their garage and build a new one in a weekend so can we ! "

Perhaps they should have a little scroll cross the bottom of the screen during these biting-off-more-than-you-can-chew segments. It would read; " WARNING ! THIS IS MORE THAN THE AVERAGE JOE CAN HANDLE. PLEASE CONSULT YOUR LOCAL PROFESSIONAL ! "
This morning, between sips of his coffee, The Mister turned to me and said;

" You know, I bet we could rip up the carpets and refinish the hardwoods ourselves. "

As I was raising my coffee cup to my lips I shot him a look.

" No. I am not refinishing the hardwoods with you. "

The Mister was having one of those HGTV inspired YOU CAN DO IT TOO ! moments.

" Why not ? I mean, we'd just have to rent the equipment. "

I had to pull him back to planet Earth.

" No. Do you not see that this will just end with us wanting to kill each other ? "

Clearly he had overestimated my patience level in thinking that I would stand happily by in a face mask during such a task.

" Yeah, I guess you're right. We couldn't enjoy our hardwood floors ' cause we'd both be dead. "

The mark of a fully realized couple, I think, is knowing what your collective limits are.
Ours happen to be hardwood floors.

Redoing hardwoods in theory ? Great Idea !
Redoing hardwoods in reality ? Two thumbs down.

________________________________________

As I wrote yesterday, it has done nothing but rain for days on end. This morning we checked the extended 10-day forecast online and guess what ? More rain. Rain every day until next Saturday.
As you can Google just about anything - I'm going to Google " How to build an Ark ".

________________________________________

What ever happened to Jody Watley ? Does anyone know ?
________________________________________

The Mister has discovered Facebook. He seems to be having a great time with it. He's reconnected with many old friends and linked up with far-away cousins. Good times. I happen to be voyeuristically peeking into the lives of people ( mostly people I went to HS with ) via his Facebook page. It is amazing who turns up on Facebook ! People I had long since forgotten about. I sat in front of the computer last night with my mouth totally agape for the better part of 45 minutes saying things like;

" SHUT UP ! NO WAY ! THOSE TWO GOT MARRIED ??! "

and

" OH MY GOD ! THEY LOOK OLD ! "

and

" NO FREAKIN' WAY ! LOOKIT HOW MANY KIDS HE/SHE/THEY HAS / HAVE ! "

and

" HOLY CRAP ! I KNEW HE/SHE WAS GAY ! "

Ahhh yes. Facebook. It's like going to your HS reunion without the forced exchange of pleasantries, awkward conversational pauses, momentary loss of self confidence and overcooked family-style chicken.

___________________________________________

And now I have to issue an apology to those folks I may have drunk dialed and/ or sent odd pics and texts to last night.

I can't remember who exactly I called and / or texted last night. But I'm pretty sure it was the usual suspects.

My sister.
Trix.
Steph.
and
Mumbles Mile.

If they made a coffee cup that read #1 Drunk Dialer - my sister would have purchased it for me a long time ago.

Sorry all. Please accept my humble apologies. And if I've left anyone off the list - again, so, so sorry.

XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday - My First Product Review

2009-06-19T16:03:00.002-04:00

This is post is for the ladies. My male readers not need back away from this though...no need to click over to ESPN.com or anything - because if you have a special lady in your life this little bit of info I'm going to share with you WILL win you major points.

But back to the ladies...

Ladies, we've all been there. We all know the pain. The torture. The soul-sucking humiliation.

Bra Shopping.

I know. You Know. We all know.
I have been near tears in dozens upon dozens of dressing rooms, a stack of no less than sixty hanger-less bras at my feet.
None fit. Not one.
If I found a band size that fit, the cups were too small. If I found cups that fit, the band was too big. Either I was falling out of the tops of the cups or spilling out of the cups under my pits or the under wire refused to stay put and my bubbies spilled out of the bottom. Then there is the bra that makes you look like you have one big boob instead of two separate boobs. Ugh.

For me, as I am more than blessed in the ta-ta department, bra shopping was never fun. It was Suck-City, if you will.

I am not going to claim that the itty-bitty-titty ladies have it any easier than I do. But I can't begin to tell you how many times I've walked past a member of the itty-bitty club wearing some cute spaghetti-strapped shelf bra cami or strapless, flouncy summer dress and have worked my self into a snit that I cannot wear these cutesy things.
Oh sure, I've had a card carrying member or two of the itty-bitty-titty club bemoan their lack of hoots to me.
" Oh, I'd love to have bigger boobs. Clothes would look sooo much better on me...."
And I'm all like " Save it sister....you have no idea what it's like to walk around with two honeydews lashed to your chest ! "

But I digress.
I found myself at Lady Grace this afternoon. The New England mecca of specialty ladies undergarments.
And I found a bra.
I found a bra to end all bras.
The Bentley of bras if you will.

As I stood in the dressing room examining myself in the mirror I couldn't quite believe it. I was almost speechless.

" It.....it FITS ! Nothing. is. falling. out. Straps....straps not slipping. Band not riding up. Under wire not moving......OH MY GOD....Can this really be true ? "

Just to be sure I did the dressing room dance. Jump up and down. Bend over. Bend back. Jiggle up and down.
Still nothing moved. And I was near tears again, this time for all the right reasons.

OK, I've kept you in suspense long enough. CLICK HERE to see a miracle in under wire.
Do not be put off by the price ladies. It is well worth the cash. BELIEVE ME ! And if you don't wanna take it from Aunt Bunny....then listen to Oprah - Yep, this is Oprah's favorite bra. And Oprah would never lie to you.
I read a review that this bra takes a little getting used to and it is true. There is a fair amount of boning on the sides of the bra that help to hold the fort down or...hold the fort up.
At any rate - if you've got some All-Star Melons like I do - do yourselves a favor and take this bra for a spin.

Wanna know what ? Denis Leary likes Oprah. You're probably no doubt thinking....
" Denis Leary likes Oprah ? Naahhh. "
No, it's true. He devoted nearly an entire chapter to her in his latest book.
Here's a few quotes extolling his mad love for Oprah;

" Oprah, my friends, is the cure for what ails America. "

and

" I am way way, way way, Way into Oprah. "

And I can assure you that his love for The Big O is genuine.

For the record, I love Oprah too. I'm actually thinking of getting a subscription to her magazine rather than pay cover price for it every month. Just for kicks, here is a link to her website.

And if the bra that I am currently wearing is any testimony to the righteousness that is Oprah Winfrey I'm here to tell you, when Oprah tells you to do something - JUST DO IT ! Girlfriend ain't playing.

Ok, now on to RMF.
This week - with the exception of Wednesday - it has done nothing but rain. Pour freaking rain. One day after the next. Rain. Rain. Rain.
I imagine this is what it must be like to live in the British Isles.

As I am not able to embed a video...please CLICK HERE for Here Comes The Rain Again by The Euythmics.
I love the intelligence, depth and maturity of Annie Lennox's voice. I could listen to her sing all day.
I remember seeing this vid on MTV back in the day and thinking that her orange hair was one of the most awesome things I'd ever seen. This could quite possibly be where my affinity for hair coloring not found in nature started - which it seems is a habit I am continuing to this day.

Here Comes The Rain Again was released in January 1984 - I was just shy of eight years old.

Have a nice weekend all !

XO
Bunny

Welcome To WalMart.

2009-06-17T15:41:00.008-04:00

Later-ish in the evening the other night The Mister and I went off to our local WalMart superstore to pick up a few items.
As he and I tend to be browsers we were in there for a long time. Longer than we should have been in WalMart and still have our IQs largely intact, but I digress.

Toward the end of our shopping trip we both expressed an interest in eating something - those of you in LTRs may be familiar with the Whadda-you-wanna-eat-I-dunno-whadda-you-want song and dance. The conversation usually goes something like this;

Man: You hungry ?
Woman: Yeah kinda.
Man: Well I'm hungry.
Woman: Ok, so why don't we get something to eat ?
Man: I'm really hungry.
Woman: I got the memo. You're hungry. I just said why don't we eat something.
Man: Whadda you want ?
Woman: I dunno, whatever you want is fine.
Man: :::::sigh:::::: This isn't helping. Why don't you suggest something.

Woman proceeds to verbalize laundry list of dining options. Man seems less than enthusiastic about suggestions made to him.

Woman: I've just suggested everything I can think of. When you decide what you want, let me know. I'm not all that fussy and could care less what we eat.

Man proceeds to make a tuna sandwiches.

The above scenario need not be gender specific. Please insert person(s) of your choosing into the above dialogue.

At any rate, being a couple in a LTR we are well beyond the goo-goo-gaa-gaa when there are tasks to be completed. The Mister paid for our purchases at the checkout and I made my way over to the in-store Subway. Split up and get out of store faster - precious braincells were being wasted.

I was the only customer in Subway at this particular moment in time. There were two Subway employees working. Employee # 1 was taking the trash out and left the store's premises. Employee #2 was standing halfway between the sandwich prep counter and the back room.
She saw me out of the corner of her eye and said; " I'll be right with you. "

I could see The Mister from my vantage point inside SW and he looked about three back in line still. As I felt there was no need to rush I was more than happy to let SW employee #2 do whatever it was she was doing in the back room. I'm generally not in the habit of busting the ass of anyone making minimum wage. They know they've got a shitty job - no need to add insult to injury. Girlfriend's just trying to pay her bills.

Employee #2's cell phone rang. She picked it up ( mind you she is about ten feet from me ) and this is what came out of her mouth;

" WHAT IS YOUR F*CKING PROBLEM A$$HOLE !? I'M SO SICK OF YOUR DRAMA ! I DUNNO WHO YOU THINK YOU'RE CALLING A WH*RE ! I'M SICK OF THIS SH!T ! I'M DONE WITH YOU ! I'M DONE. NO......I'M DONE ! DON'T CALL ME ANYMORE YOU SL*T !
I'M DONE WITH YOU ! "

I looked around for a hidden camera. I thought that perhaps Jerry Springer was now hosting a Candid Camera type show that I was unaware of and I was the guest on tonight's episode.

Apparently I'm not the only cell phone shot put gold medal winner. Employee #2 flung her cell somewhere into the recesses of SW's back room.

But Employee #2 wasn't finished, not by a long shot. She took two big strides in my direction and was now facing me from behind the sandwich prep counter. I was now the recipient of her verbal machine gun.

" I mean My God. My friend starts telling everyone I know that I'm a wh*re and now she, wants to be my best friend again! Like I'm supposed to pretend none of this sh!t ever happened. You know, it's not me who's the wh*re. She f*cked my boyfriend AND my brother ! Who needs that sh!t ?! She's such a bitch ! Who the f*ck does she think she is ? "

After her tirade she realized that perhaps her behavior was less than professional. She then became embarrassed and began to apologize. I assured her all was cool. As I said - I'm not trying to bust the ass of the minimum wage earner. Clearly she had some pressing personal issues to deal with, so I figured that if I could let her vent what skin would it be off my nose ? Lucky for her I find these little interactions with the public at large to be amusing rather than offensive.

By this time Employee # 1 and The Mister have both made an appearance in Subway. Employee #1 rings up our sandwiches and The Mister pays for them. As we begin to exit the store Employee #2 profusely apologizes again;

" I'm really sorry about that Miss....I'm really so sorry. Really ."

I assured her that we were cool.

As we walked to the car The Mister asked me what Emp #2 was apologizing for. I shared the details of my Subway experience with him and he began to laugh.

And as he is one of the most profound people I know, he felt the need to throw his two cents in.

" You know, it's like there is some sort of White Trash Time Warp between Knox, Indiana and WalMart. "

I then asked him what he forgot at the check stand as I had seen the cashier call after him and run to give him a bag. This was his reply to my inquiry;

" Oh. I forgot to take the cookies. I knew if I forgot those I'd be in deep sh!t. You would have re purposed a wiffle ball bat to sodomize me with if we got home and there weren't any Fudgie Grahams. "

^^ PMSing. Needed chocolate. BAD. ^^

Xoooo
Bunny

Bunny Vs. Slim & The Two Darrells - Round One * 500th POST ! *

2009-06-16T16:34:00.008-04:00

To say that I'm still disgruntled about my poor cat being chased and summarily held hostage in a tree would be the understatement of the year.
I've taken it as a personal affront. To me it's essentially the same thing as my cat minding her own business,perhaps walking through Central Park, and getting mugged. She still refuses to go outside or even entertain the thought of going near a window.
As she is a cat, I as the RESPONSIBLE pet owner must fight her battles for her. You mess with my cat and you mess with me.

This is wherein I begin my fervent hatred of the canine species. I used to tolerate dogs....now....well, any animal that eats its own shit does not deserve to walk the earth. Especially big, dumb black labs named " Pepper " who for some reason are not kept on a leash or a run or any other sort of dog restraint device.

I've decided that I am going to make it my business to torture Slim & The Two Darrells for the next few days. I'm on vacation from work for the next week, so I've got plenty of time on my hands to devise said torture plan.

Passive Aggressive ? Me ? Naaahhhhh.....

I started in earnest this afternoon. I figured I would start with loud music. I'm pretty sure the Reagan administration tortured Noriega with some Appetite for Destruction - but G n' R is way too good for these busted-up Camaro driving idiots. I didn't want to give them anything they might enjoy.

Remember, I have REALLY BIG SPEAKERS attached to my computer that are right near a window. ( insert maniacal, cackling laughter here...)

I wondered just what kind of music would crawl up their asses sideways and stay there. I wanted a song or songs that would be stuck in their collective heads even after they went home. I wanted them to have the same PTSD that my cat was now having to learn coping skills for.

Elvis Costello was a nice jumping off point. What's So Funny About Peace, Love & Understanding ? I dunno ? Why don't you ask my cat ? Jerks.

After Mr. Diana Krall I moved onto Squeeze. Black Coffee In Bed ? Not when you have the circular saw going at 7:30 in the morning. I didn't really need to, you know..like, sleep late on my vacation or anything. Asshats.

I could tell that 80's post-punk British Invasion was not getting the job done. The brainpower needed to understand its irony was more than their New England Tech educations would have afforded them. Time to try something else.

Ah yes, I've got it ! 80's music ! Not just any 80's music...the kind that I like.

The Psychedelic Furs ! Love My Way ? Not if you're loving that stupid animal. As I said, any animal that eats its own shit............ Morons.

The above three artists only garnered an occasional " WTF ? " glance from them.
Time to up the ante. I had to bust out something truly niche. Something that only a small Gen X population would enjoy.

They Might Be Giants ! Birdhouse In Your Soul ! Had they been building a birdhouse they've been gone a long time ago. Bee In my bonnet you say ? I hope that dumb dog gets stung by a bee. Several angry South American bees.

I could detect mild annoyance, so I continued with Particle Man.
Their annoyance level was rising so after Particle Man I had to think quick.
What next, what next, what next ??
AH HA !

SONIC YOUTH ! Yes, yes, yes.....SONIC YOUTH. Time to go all 120 Minutes on their asses !
Not just any Sonic Youth would do though.....no no....it could only be Sonic Youth with Chuck D ! Kool Thing ! Girls liberated from male, white corporate oppression ! Take that Butt Nuggets !
Oh yeah, ( bobbing, weaving and swinging away like Rocky Balboa ) I used to have purple hair and wear Docs in HS ( floating like a butterfly and stinging like a bee ) - they clearly did not know whose cat they were messing with !

Alas, they packed up for the day once I got done playing Arrested Development. I knew Mr. Wendal would have totally had my back though.

Oh well. We'll see what kinds of annoyance inducing activities I can come up with for tomorrow.

Realize though, dear Internet, that had The Mister been home today none of this would have happened. The first few notes of What's So Funny 'bout Peace, Love and Understanding would have gotten me a dirty look from him that would have followed by him saying " Jesus babe, shit happens. Get over it. " Ah yes, The Mister and his pathological need to keep me off the train to crazyville. Where would I be without him ?

I should clarify the previous statement about " Darrell and my other brother Darrell " as Mumbles Mile ( coming to the States by way of Barbados and then Canada ) did not catch my reference. For a further explanation of the two Darrells ( which come to find out I've been spelling wrong...) please CLICK HERE.

Happy 500th Post to Me !

Xoooo
Bunny

Hootie & The Blowfish Are CckSckers.

2009-06-14T13:09:00.006-04:00

I'm pretty sure they are not literal c*cks*ckers - lest anyone think I be exposing myself to a libel suit. The last I checked all the members of Hootie & Co were straight. Although it has been my experience that you cannot have more than four grown men on a stage and not have at least one of them be gay.

But still, they suck.
Why ?

Because for some reason, maybe bred from my textually harassing Team Miller ( How 'bout them Phillies ?! ) last night, I was feeling nostalgic about my college days in Charleston, South Carolina. The oppressively hot days thick with humidity when The Mister and I fell in love. Trix and I trying to turn our dorm apartment into something HGTV-worthy on no budget whatsoever. The Tuesday night buffet at Pizza Hut. Ahhh...good times.

There are two bands that remind me of these precious days of my youth. Dave Matthews Band and Hootie & The Blowfish. DMB hit big my freshman year of college - Ants Marching brings me right back. I can almost smell the damp, skank- nasty laundry room in the dorms.

Hootie & Co were actually from Charleston, so they were a town favorite - on the radio nearly 24/7. The video for Time is abundant with images of the Carolina low country and Charleston in particular.

As I was saying, I was feeling nostalgic today. I am building a rock wall around a flower bed in the rear of my house. Since my office windows are right next to the area I am constructing the wall - I figured some Fairweather Johnson would be a perfect soundtrack for artistically arranging rocks. I only listen to music through my computer these days - mostly utilizing my online music service- so the tunes flow nicely through the open office windows right into my backyard. Doesn't that sound like a pleasant afternoon ? Yeah, I thought so too until Hootie & The Blowfish f*cked it all up for me.......

I have to confess, making a low rock wall look like it's been there for all eternity is difficult and time consuming.

Anywho, back to Hootie. You can only listen to Hootie & Co on my online music service if you purchase the album, otherwise it's only 30 second samples of the songs ! WTF ! Led Zepplin has the same shtick on my online music service...but c'mon, they're LED FREAKING ZEPPLIN !
You're HOOTIE AND THE FREAKING BLOWFISH ! One of these things is most definitely not like the other. It seems like they are fond of a theme as you cannot find any of their videos on YouTube either.
I think Darius Rucker needs knocked down a few pegs. One BK commercial and he thinks he's the shit.

It's totally beside the point that I already own Fairweather Johnson ( could be a nice alternative name for men with intermittent ED, huh ? ) on a CD. No. That is not the point here. I could always scavenge one of the three yet-to-be-unpacked boxes, find it and pop it into my hard drive and " call it a day " as my pal Mumbles Mile is so fond of saying. But scavenging for it would require effort that I am not willing to expend. I have to save my energy for building a rock wall and making it look haphazard on purpose - which I've already explained is both time consuming and difficult.

So Hootie and I are breaking up. That's it. We are so through. Turning my back and giving them the hand. THAT. IS. IT ! Don't think you're gonna win be back either Hootie, what with you're genteel southern charms and all. I can see right through you, you petty, money grubbing whores.
I'll just have to go back to DMB. At least they know how to treat a lady.

Xooo
Bunny

Reflections On Our Cat.

2009-06-13T09:46:00.003-04:00

Our cat has not dared to even look at the door since her PTSD-inducing drama of Thursday. The overtime shift she put in at the top of the tree has left her grateful for the creature comforts of home. A cozy spot under the bed. A dish full of food. An open window to perch in. The occasional sunbeam on the floor to bask and stretch out in.
This morning she did wander close to the door and looked up at me with a " Do I dare give this whole outside thing another try ? " type look.
Me being the tough love type, I decided to open the door. I figured she probably needed to get back up in the saddle and get over her fear of dumb dogs.

BTW, Slim and the two Darrells are back at it again today - with dumb dog in tow.

She gingerly stepped over the threshold of the kitchen door and decided to give the great outdoors another shot.
I went back to check on her after ten minutes or so. I peeked out the door and spied her sitting not six feet from the door, her face read of total terror. If she had the ability to speak I imagine she would have said;

" GOD DAMN IT , LET ME IN ! THERE IS A BIG DOG OUT HERE ! LEMME IN LEMME IN LEMME IN ! PLEASE ! I'M BEGGING YOU ! BIG.DOG.RIGHT.OUT. HERE ! "

I opened the door and she bolted in and fell over in a heap on the kitchen floor - no doubt having flashbacks probably the beginnings of a panic disorder.
________________________________________

Last night I was reading the newest David Sedaris book in the tub. I find Mr. Sedaris to be incredibly witty and ironic. He has a gift for story telling and I laugh out loud while reading his books. The Mister wandered into the bathroom to see what was inspiring my laughter. I understood his curiosity as generally a soak in the tub is not all that funny. However a soak with a David Sedaris book is a great time.

I offered to read him a chapter I had previously read, so he plopped down on the bathroom for story time. Yep, this would be one of those goo-goo-gaa-gaa moments.

The Mister and I have very similar senses of humor. We have the Denis Leary - George Carlin - Carlos Mencia thing in common. However we seem to hit a fork in the comedy road every once in a great while. When the Leary- Carlin- Mencia road splits I tend to take the darker, more ironic and sadistic Sedaris type humor path and The Mister....he has a tendency toward the slap-stick Pineapple Express-Zack and Miri Make A Porno type path.

I sat through Zack and Miri with him. Nary a chuckle on my part. The Mister was LMFAO for lack of a better term.

I read one of the chapters of the book to Hubs and had to pause occasionally, because although I read the same chapter not twenty minutes before, it was even funnier the second time around. Hubs did laugh, but not nearly as heartily as I did.

Our conversation then turned to the cat drama of the day before. I wondered how the cat made it out of the tree as neither of us were there to witness it. I remarked that perhaps she daintily crept down the ladder we left propped up against the tree. The Mister had other thoughts....

" You know, she probably fell asleep and fell out of the tree. Dumbass. "

XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday - Our Very Own Gitmo

2009-06-12T07:20:00.015-04:00

The Mister and I had quite a day yesterday. In a stroke serendipitous luck we both ended up having yesterday off. I always love an opportunity to spend some extra time with the Hubs, and I think he shares similar feelings about me. Realize though that it may appear to those not truly familiar with us that we are all goo-goo-gaa-gaa, holding hands while staring into each other's eyes 24/7. I can assure you that this is most certainly not the case. While we do have our goo-goo-gaa-gaa hand holding moments, we need our time apart. After a while one of us will inevitably utter something about " pain in my ass ", " driving me crazy " or
" who are you and what have you done with my spouse ? ".

At any rate, I had to drive Hubs to get the 2nd half of his root canal finished up yesterday morning. He balked a bit at my initial offer to drive him to the Dr. After a few minutes he relented and off we went.

I think upon exiting his appointment he was grateful for my being a licensed driver in his presence. He poured himself into the car much like a clock in a Dali painting and requested that I " find him something to take these damn pills with. " he then threw the passenger seat back to lay down.
He was in a considerable amount of pain, until the prescription narcotics kicked in - then all was right with the world again.

After the narcotics kicked in and The Mister was feeling good I sweet talked him into plant shopping with me at a nursery the next town over. He had sucked down a scone and some coffee from Starbucks so he was feeling human again - I figured I should take advantage.
I pushed my luck with my incessant need to shop for drapes, drapery rods, etc last weekend. ( Please see the refer to the " driving me crazy " statement above.) Come to find out that while The Mister was truly pleased to have his opinion taken into account regarding drapery selection, after being sucked into the vortex of rod pocket panels, valances, swags, tie backs and finials..... I suspect he began to feel the testosterone drain from his body and perhaps began to feel somewhat emasculated.
After a time he stopped giving a shit about what went in the windows.

We bought many lovely plants yesterday and after some lunch we put said plants in the yard.
The front of our house looks awesome, btw. The back ? It's getting there.

What does all this root canal-narcotics-plant shopping-drapery shopping have to do with today's RMF ? Not much. I felt like I needed to frame yesterday in the proper context.

I should warn our BFFs Todd & Therese. There is much comedy ahead. Please move all liquids away from the laptop.

Anywho, I was in the back of our house digging up some dirt to pot some plants. I was bent over and after a few minutes I heard a WOOSH WOOSH and two somethings brush past my legs - nearly knocking me to the ground. I screamed like so many a little girl.
A large black lab belonging to a construction worker building my neighbor's pool deck had chased my poor cat and consequently my poor cat ran up a tree.

I yelled at the dog to go home.......I should back track a few minutes here....after screaming like a little girl Hubs, the construction workers and three of my Korean neighbors who happened to be in their backyard all stopped what they were doing and looked in my direction. Yep, seven men all staring at little ol' me. Then staring at little ol' me running into the woods, wielding a dirt trowel and yelling at a dog.
This is where I may gain a reputation as " the crazy lady next door. "

The dog ran back to my neighbor's yard and my poor cat was now about twenty-five feet up in a tree having an asthma attack. Three more minutes pass before Hubs comes out to where I am in the yard to inquire about my well being. I believe I said something like " Thanks for coming to my rescue hon, you know...I could have been attacked by a rabid wolf or something and be laying on the ground bleeding to death....."

We both tried to sweet talk the cat into coming down. No dice. In fact, she managed to climb fifteen feet higher up the tree. For the previous ten years or so our cat has been an indoor cat, she's only explored the great outdoors this summer - I really felt that she lacked the Getting Self Out Of Tree skill that most cats have.

As a means to vent my frustration at the careless dog owner who saw fit to let this stupid animal run amok through the neighborhood I spoke loud enough for the owner of the dumb dog to hear me.....
" You can come down now sweetie, that DUMB DOG went home..."
I'm positive he was shaking in his shoes at such a statement.

I should tell you that there were three construction workers building my neighbors pool deck yesterday. There was who I presume was the foreman. Since he looked like he was about to birth triplets for the purpose of this post I am calling him " Slim ". I could tell he was the HMFIC because all he seemed to do was stand around and swear at the other two morons, whom for all intents and purposes I'll call " Darrell and my other brother Darrell ".

We decided to leave her for a few hours to see if she'd make her way down. She wasn't budging.
Other methods of Cat Removal From Tree were going to have to be investigated.
The Mister and I stood at the base of the tree and tried the sweet talking again. Nothing.
The Mister grabbed hold of the vines attached to the tree and started yanking them in an effort to scare her into coming down. Nope.
We threw sticks at her to try to scare her down. The cat was all like " Sticks ? Shaking the tree branches ? That's the best you two can do ? Losers. "

Then we decided that we were going to try to get a ladder. Now I should tell you that as far as ladders go we've only had a need for a rather large step stool thus far. The Mister went off to the local Mom & Pop hardware store...they were closed. Then he went to Job Lot. No ladders. He had to bite the bullet and buy a 16' foot ladder at Lowes. And that wasn't cheap.

He dragged the ladder out to the tree that our cat had probably decided after so many hours in probably wasn't a bad place to live out the rest of her days. I should tell you that by the time The Mister got the 16' ladder propped against the tree is was going on 7:45 PM.
The 16' foot ladder against the tree was still about fifteen feet too short.

The Mister climbed to the top of the ladder and swore at the cat. She was unimpressed. I climbed even higher up the ladder than Hubs and attempted to coax her down. Again, she was all like " Yeah, I know you like, feed me regularly and all but.....no thanks. " Then we thought that if she were close to one of us, meaning if one of us were at the top of the ladder, and one of us shook the tree branches again maybe she'd see fit to make her way down. The only thing this really accomplished was me getting leaves, pieces of bark and other things that inhabit the tops of trees in my hair, my eyes, my mouth, down my shirt, etc. Now I was at the top of a '16 foot ladder coughing and dirty.

Then we had the brilliant idea of climbing to the top of the ladder and poking her with a very long stick. It took us three tries to find a stick long enough to poke her with. It turns out my cat, much like myself, enjoys a good poke every once in a while.

Then, as it does, genius struck. I suggested that if we sprayed her with the hose she might start to move. We unwound the hose from the rear of the house and dragged it as far as it would go - which was about thirty feet shorter than we needed. We then got the hose from the front of the house and attached it to the hose out back - which afforded us enough hose length to reach the base of the tree. As the hose at the rear of the house can only be turned on from inside the house....yeah, I don't get that either, but we don't have time for that right now....in attaching second hose to the first Hubs elected to not shut the water supply off. Which left him standing in the back yard getting soaking wet connecting two hoses. Which set off an even longer tirade of expletives as you can all surely imagine.

After success with the hose connection we both tromped off into the woods in an effort to now hose the cat out of the tree.....it's now 8:30 and starting to get dark. The cat has been in the tree since 3pm.

We both stood at the base of the tree, The Mister with nozzle in hand, and decided that we both felt a little guilty about what we were about to do, but knowing we had exhausted all other options -short of calling the fire department - which we both realized was cliche and out of the question. The Mister aimed the nozzle and fired. And fired some more. And after that fired some more. Now we had a cat that was forty feet up in a tree and wet. And the ladder was wet also. I had remarked to Hubs at during a pause in his water boarding of our cat ( which I think he secretly enjoyed..) that it was like we had our very own Gitmo.

Know what happens to things that go up in the air ? At some point they come down. Turnips, hub caps, soda bottles, even drops of water. They all come back down. I imagine that the sound of the watering coming back down through the jungle-like canopy of the woods is probably what the Amazon sounds like during the rainy season.

Get a visual of this: The Mister and I standing in the woods. Brand spanking new,wet 16' ladder leaned up against as tree. The Mister holding a garden hose and now soaking wet. Me dirty with tree stuff and now wet and the only real bonus I got was that mascara was now running down my face. And the cat was still in the tree.

All the frustration and....maybe not anger..more like annoyance on steroids we had been dealing with for last few hours had melted away. As we stood in the woods we began to laugh at the situation we found ourselves in. Although if the Asshat that owned the dog was still in my immediate vicinity I would have most likely punched him in the throat.

At 10PM I decided that as cliche and ridiculous as it was, we were going to have to involve our local fire professionals. I steadfastly refused to call 911 and had Hubs drive me to the local fire station. At 10 o'clock at night. I knocked on the fire station door. No answer. I pounded on the door. Nothing. I looked for the door bell. There wasn't one. I then stood in the fire station driveway and began to yell in the direction of the second floor windows. Finally someone opened the door - much like the doorman at the gate to the Emerald City he was cranky and wanted to know just what the hell I wanted at such a late hour. I explained the entire cat in the tree drama in ten part harmony to him. And much like my cat,he too was unimpressed. Getting to the point, I asked Mr. Nice Fireman if perhaps the fire station had a 40' ladder we could borrow. They didn't. He wasn't a great emoter and had no other suggestions for me. I should tell you that during my embarrass-myself-in-front-of-the-fire-station episode The Mister refused to exit the car and went so far as to strategically place the car on a dark section of the street so Mr. Nice Fireman wouldn't see who the poor asshole married to the loony woman with the cat in the tree was.
Things had become desperate. It was now after 10pm and had begun to pour rain. The cat was still forty feet up in a tree with no plans of descending. My last pitch of cat-tree-removal was to buy a chain saw and cut the tree down. The Mister was having no part of my delusional lumberjack inspired fantasy and in the process had decided that the cat had given him enough grief for one day and as far as he was concerned the " fucker could stay up there all fucking night. " or something like that...

Going on 11PM I was now completely undone at the thought of my poor baby in the tree getting rained on. The Mister and I had a small tiff and I stomped off to bed. Apparently he had felt some post-tiff guilt or perhaps he knew if he did not try every possible means of cat-tree-removal he was never going to get laid again.....while I was in a pre-sleep coma he was Googling " How to get a cat out of a tree ".

Wanna know some alternative methods of how to remove a cat from a tree, you know, if none of the things we tried work for you should you find yourself in a similar situation.

1) Call your local chapter of the humane society. The have professional animal handlers who who will do the cat-tree-removal thing for a small fee.

2) Find a laundry basket. Place a warm, fuzzy towel in the bottom along with some cat food. Affix a rope around the handles and a large rock to the other end of the rope. Toss the rock end of the rope and then fling that end on as a high a branch as you can. Now raise the basket up using the rock end of the rope that has come down. The point being that the cat will shimmy down to the basket featuring warm, fuzzy towel and food, then once in the basket you lower the basket down to the ground.

Our cat elected to come out of the tree of her own accord sometime around midnight. She was wet, hungry and I'm pretty sure she had PTSD.

She spent all day today hiding under our bed. The dumb dog next door was on a run today.

Today's RMF is I Wanna Be Sedated by The Ramones. Earlier in the day, before the narcs kicked in - Hubs and I heard this song on the radio and he remarked that he sure wished he'd been sedated prior to having his face drilled open. Then again later, while connecting the two sections of hose, he paused, looked over to me and said....." You know when I said earlier that I wanted to be sedated....THIS WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TOO ! " - followed by more expletives.

I Wanna Be Sedated was initailly released in 1978 - I was two, but didn't hit big until 1980- I was four.

That is all I have for now. I hope you all have a fantastic weekend, m'kay ?
XO
Bunny

Checkin' His Zen.

2009-06-11T07:59:00.002-04:00

Remember a few posts ago when I stated that The Mister is capable of some truly profound statements ? That wasn't BS.

Last night while we were laying in bed, just as the Sox were finishing off the Yankees like so many crazy uncles ( we all have at least one...) finishing off a can, or ten, of beer.. and we were just about to shut the TV off and go to sleep The Mister turned toward me and stated the following;
I should preface this by saying he has a nasty, infected 1/2 root canal thing going on and he was largely under the influence of prescription narcotics & antibiotics for most of the day yesterday....

" Ugh, my head feels like an empty can full of rocks. "

A smile stretched broad across my face and I began to giggle a wee bit.

" An empty can full of rocks, huh ? " I said

He responded " Shut up. " and rolled over and went to sleep.

I think this may be The Mister dipping his big toe into the Zen pool. What's could possibly be next ? Incense ? Greeting me with " Namaste " when I call him on his cell ? Forsaking all earthly possessions ?

XO
Bunny

My Size Nine Dirty Secret And Other Things Of Questionable Taste.

2009-06-06T20:45:00.011-04:00

Ok, I have a dirty little secret. Or as the title of this post points out, my dirty secret is a size nine.

From May to about the end of September I refuse to wear shoes that interfere with the rays of the sun directly hitting my feet. My toes have a desperate need to feel free and unencumbered by pesky socks or any other footwear that could possibly be construed as " sensible ".

Which means that during the work week I am all about the strappy wedge, kitten heel....what have you.....

On the weekends....yep, barefoot. Unless I am going out in public. Being shoe-less in public....well, the last time I checked I would be last person that would be confused with Britney Spears.

I realize that I am quite fond of the anecdote.....but,

When The Mister and I lived in Indiana and worked for a supermarket chain ( which could be considered two more dirty little secrets...but really, I have certain portions of my life that I have blocked out. So it can't really be a secret if I can only recall but the vaguest bits of information from these times...) and the Siberian outpost store they sent me to was an education that I could have not received in an institution of higher learning. People took their kids into the supermarket barefoot. IN THE SUPERMARKET ! I should tell you that these were not cherub-cheeked infants in baby carriers...no, no...we're talking six, seven and eight year olds.

And then they'd take these same shoe-less kids INTO THE BATHROOM ! ICK !

At any rate, around the house and yard I am barefoot. And at the end of the day I wear the organic matter stuck to my feet like a badge of honor. A stray piece of mulch, blades of grass, those oval pointed pods that fall off the rhododendrons....all of it. I especially love my shiny, smooth, pink polished toenails peeking out from a cloud of dirt like some sort of Transsexual Pig Pen.

I always tend to my tootsies at the end of the day. I'm not sure why I am always surprised at just how disgusting my feet can get. The Mister has seen the byproduct of what I have scraped off my feet in the bottom of the shower and refers to it as " The Chopped Salad " - a phrase which is almost always accompanied by look on his face like you've just seen two of your neighbors dogs humping in your front yard.

You would be shocked to know, dear readers, that I am not the funny one within the confines of our house. It's true, you can ask anyone. The Mister is hi.lar.e.ous.
True story, he actually made me laugh so hard once I peed my pants. Not a lot, just a little drip.
But still, I think it qualifies.

So anyway, there is just one in a long list of my dirty little secrets.

Ok, as if we'd hadn't gone down this road yet.....onto " Other Things Of Questionable Taste ",

Jon Knight is still hot. Yep, I've hung onto this one for a long time. Man oh man, if I even get my hands on him......Hoooo Boy! I don't really care if he might bat for the other team. As one dear friend of mine so elegantly pointed out....." Who cares if he's nice to look at ? " True dat.
I have to say, I have a fantasy or two about Mr. Knight.....one involves a can of Duncan Hines dark chocolate frosting....the other ends with him washing my car.

I know what you're thinking Internet.....why not try out the Duncan Hines thing on The Mister ? Well, because I'm pretty sure Mr. Knight does, or pays someone to do, a through manscaping job and The Mister.....well, the thought of chocolate frosting matting his modestly trimmed chest hair ?? Then I'd just end up washing the sheets? Yeah....my fantasies never end with me standing over the washer. I don't think any woman's does.

Except maybe Martha Stewart. I can see her commanding some dirt-poor-but-good-looking recent illegal immigrant with a marginal understanding of the English language to massage her calves or take his time bending over the dishwasher or verbally abusing him with empty threats of deportation if he doesn't polish the silver candelabra just so, all the while telling him how pretty he is....how nice his tan is, etc ? Can you just see the headline on the Huffington Post...." Martha Stewart Sued For Sexual Harassment " Some ACLU pro-bono newbie would get the case and hold a press conference on the street in front of Martha's compound. You know, some fresh-faced 24 year old with an ill-fitting suit from Dress Barn, the ink not even dried on her law degree....

Prison may have humanized her a bit....but she's not to be trusted. Take note peeps....there is some skeevy, undercover shit going on with Ms. Stewart. Trust me. It's just a matter of time before shit goes down.
Hey, did any of you know that Martha's daughter has a show where she and her BFF sit and watch old 80's episodes of The Martha Show ala Mystery Science Theatre 3000 and just rip c.1986 Martha to shreds ?

Whoa..I just got way, way off track there.....

Speaking of those on my " Freebie List ", I beseech you ladies....PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE vote for George Clooney. I'm begging you.....we can't let this guy win. He is not hot. He's not. Reality check...he's only hot to 'tween girls because he is non-threatening. Because he looks like an amalgamation of every kid in HS who lived and breathed auto shop class. It's a fine line between looking come-hither and looking stoned. I think we all know on what side of the fence he's on...the side with all the other doob smokers standing behind the dumpster.

The sad thing is that this pathetic loser is probably making moolah hand over fist and is spending it all on skinny jeans, sushi, new Wii games and call girls, and yet my co-workers and I have to rally at the state house to keep from losing our jobs to budget cuts.

Ok, getting off my soapbox now......

The Mister is thinking about getting another tat. I won't go into it too in depth because he only speaks of this tat while under the influence of Jamesons or Bushmills. I'm never sure how serious he is. If he speaks of it sober, then I might blog about it again. Until then...we'll see if this just the whisky talking or if he's really serious. You know why God invented whisky, right ? To keep the Irish from ruling the world. hehe.

Oh hey, guess what ? I finally got that paper signed by Dr. Dumbass. It's amazing just how effective waving a handgun around can be.
Although, as always seems to happen with me, now that this issue has been put to rest ( or put through the fax machine as it were.. ) it seems I have an entirely new issue to contend with regarding the very same client. Without getting too graphic.....if my client's apartment at the assisted living facility were a Catholic Church it would be named one of the following;

St. John Of The Shit-Stained Toilet.
or
Our Lady Of The Perpetually Dirty Bathroom
or
The Holy Mystery Of The Lifesavers Wrappers On The Floor.
or
The Divine Crumbs of St. Lay-Z-Boy

and I have to say, I've had quite a few religious experiences in this apartment. Like the mystery of how I spend two hours cleaning and reorganizing her walk in closet and not two days later it is totally trashed. Or how it is I put sets of matching sheets in the closet and yet the sheets that end up on the bed are always mismatched. Or how it is that her one houseplant has been near death more than a dozen times, yet after watering on the third day it seems to rise again ?

I should also tell you that this client in her advancing age has become hard of hearing. So our conversation's usually go something like this.

Me: How was your day today ?
::::::Client ignores me::::::::::
Me ( again, only in a slightly louder tone ): How was your day today ?
Her ( puzzled look at me ): Huh ?
Me ( even louder ): I said, how was your day today ?
Her: What ?
Me ( almost yelling ): How. Was. Your. Day. Today ?????
Her: Oh..........waffles.
Me( heavy, exaggerated sigh ): No, I ASKED YOUR HOW YOUR DAY WAS TODAY ??
Her: I don't know what the hell you're saying - I fell on my head too many times. ( pats forehead )
Me ( turns the volume down on the TV ) I ASKED HOW. WAS. YOUR. DAY. TODAY ?
Her ( annoyed ): Wha ??
Me: YOUR DAY ? HOW WAS IT TODAY ????
Her: Why are you yelling at me ? ( taking an accusing tone ) You know, you've never taken me to see The Rockettes !

I know, hearing aids are on my To-Do list for her.

The Mister has to have part 2 of a root canal finished up tomorrow...so keep him and his puffy, festering, infected lip in your collective thoughts.

Night All !
XO

Bunny

Retro Music Friday.

2009-06-05T07:05:00.007-04:00

Think Doctors are smart ? Guess again. I am convinced that in some instances M.D. stands for Major Dumbass and / or Douchebag depending on the situation at hand.

I have had an unquantifiable number of interactions of medical professionals. Some " get it " and some don't.

I found out yesterday that one I thought " got it " clearly does / did not. This is the point wherein my job is causing an exponential increase in my Vodka bills. I prefer Kettle One and believe you me, that shit ain't cheap.

* Note to self - find Package store that offers home delivery *

At any rate, as I was saying....I needed this particular Doctor to sign his name and nothing else to one, ONE piece of paper and fax it back to me. Easy enough for those of us with an IQ greater than a bowl of Corn Flakes, right ?

I had to call this Doctor three times. Three. Times. I left three messages. Three messages speaking to the fact that I needed him to sign the paper I had faxed to him and then take the very same paper and fax it back to me. I spoke with his secretary ( she is worthy of an entire blog post unto herself...no time for any witty literary observations about her right now.....but sufficed to say if you pay peanuts you get monkeys.) who advised me to call his pager service and talk to him myself...I know what you're all thinking...... " But Bunny, isn't that her job ??" You would think. I paged him via his answering service. No return call.

As flames were shooting from my ears I thought it best to wait until the next day and call again. I spoke with the secretary again and tried in vain to communicate my needs to her, which at this point was like trying to communicate IKEA furniture assembly directions to a baboon.

She suggested that since I was trying to procure this ONE piece of paper on behalf of a third party I should have the third party call him on his answering service.

I guess to this point I have failed to tell all of you, dear readers, that I was merely the middle man in all of this.

I got in touch with persons of authority in the third party and communicated my needs to them. And since it had been a few weeks without the third party calling me to request this piece of paper I thought all was good.

But last night - at 6:30 PM - while I was driving home. My work week done. - my cell phone rang.

It was the third party. They still do not have the paper in question.

I refrained from verbalizing a stream of obscenities and was quite proud of myself for sounding as professional as I did despite the flesh that had begun to melt from my face. . I assured them that I would handle this problem today - on my day off.

As my cell phone has not stopped ringing for oh.....eight months ( even on my days off )....I had had enough. After I hung up with the third party I shut my phone off.

As I pulled into the driveway last night I noticed that The Mister was in the back yard mowing the lawn. I stood at the edge of the lawn a significant distance from him and waited to make eye contact with him. After a moment or so our eyes met. We smiled at each other. I held up my cell phone for him to see it. He looked at me quizzically. I then - doing my best impression of Josh Beckett - launched my cell as far as I could. I think it landed in the woods. I then turned around and went back to the driveway to retrieve the remainder of my things from my car. The Mister ( love him ! ) shut the mower off and found my cell. He then came up to the porch, cell in hand, brushed the dirt from it and turned it on to make sure it still worked.

It did. He then set the phone down on the patio table.

Guess what happened not 15 seconds after he set it down?

IT RANG AGAIN !

The Mister laughed kind of this Oh-my-god-you're-right-this-fucker-never-stops-ringing-I-thought-you-were-just-being-a-bit-of-a-drama-queen-now-I-finally-get-why-you-appear-to-be-losing-your-marbles laugh.

OK, I got off track there.......

Here is an open letter to the Doctor who I'm pretty sure is going to give me an ulcer.

Dear Dr. (_____),

I realize that you are a very busy man. I have no doubts that I am a small pebble, an insignificant gnat if you will, in the grand scheme of things that require your attention. I am willing to overlook the fact that your secretary took the time to finish a piece of chocolate cake while siting at the reception desk before she chose to address me while I stood not two feet from her for at least ten minutes. Or that time you were 45 minutes late for an appointment. Or that time you were an hour late for an appointment.

I'm willing to overlook the cat fur that always seems to be stuck to your pant legs - or the fact that you don't seem to own a comb.

I'm willing to overlook the fact that you display behavior much like that of a Muppet on crack. Cause really, I think you might possibly be on the spectrum and may be in need of services much like the ones I provide.

But all that aside, if you would be so kind as to fulfill this one request I have I can promise you I will remove myself from your uncombed hair. I'll make this easy for you.....I'm going to talk you through this much like I have to explain things to one of my clients..... Ready ?

Look through your inbox and find the paper I faxed to you. In fact it might be two papers as I also employed the use of a cover sheet.

Find it ? OK good. Now see the second page ? No - that is the cover sheet, put that aside for now....Nope. Put that down, we don't need the cover sheet yet. The second paper. Yep, that one.

Ok, now see at the bottom of the page ? The big X ? See it? No, look at the bottom of the page. The bottom. No, don't turn the page over. Look at the bottom of the page for the very large X. See it ? The Big X ? Ok good, you found it. Now get a pen. It's ok, I can wait - just find a pen. Got a pen ? Oooo, you're right, that is a nice pen. But lets not get distracted here....ok, ooop...I'm pretty sure that pen does not have a cap. It looks like a click pen to me. No, don't pull it apart,it clicks...no..stop pulling it....it clicks. Put your thumb on the end...no, the other end. Now press down. Hear it click ? Remember that for next time.

Alright, now...you remember the big X at the bottom of the page ? Ok now sign your name. No, not my name...YOUR NAME.

Wow, nice job writing your name !

Ok, now you need to go find the fax machine. Wait wait, take the cover sheet with you. The cover sheet....you put it down. Yeah, we need that now. Got both papers now ? Fantastic. Now the fax machine. I'm pretty sure the secretary knows where it is. Find it? Good. I know, just brush the chocolate cake crumbs off it. Now, remember that cover sheet, the one where I wrote that I needed you to sign the second paper ? See where at the top of the page there is a bunch of numbers ? Look at the top of the page...see the address ? Now look underneath the address...there are a bunch of numbers...the first one that reads PHONE next to it, underneath that one..see where it reads FAX ? The numbers....yep, those are the ones. Now put the paper you signed down in the top of the machine, no..the other way. With all the words down so you can't see them. It's ok, it doesn't matter what way in goes in there...just make it so you see the blank side of the page.

Now see all the number buttons on the top of the machine ? Stop touching the paper, it's fine. The numbers....no, stop touching the paper. See the buttons that look like a phone ? Those. Now press the numbers next to....what did you do with the cover sheet ? It was just here...where is it ? Well, we need to find it. Ooop..hold on, I think it fell on the floor. Ok, now remember the numbers next to the word FAX ? Stop touching the paper in the machine. Leave it alone, it's fine. Now see where it looks like a phone ? No, don't pick up the phone. No it's not really a phone, it just looks like one. That is really confusing, I know. Press the numbers on the top of the machine just like they appear right next to where it reads FAX. PUT THE PHONE DOWN ! FOCUS ! We're almost done here. Ok, did you press all the numbers ? You sure ? Ok, now press the green button that has the word SEND on it. No, the green button. No, not that button. The one that is green. Wait, are you color blind ? No ? You sure ? Just checking. Now press the green button. Yep, that one. You don't have to hold it down. Stop pressing it. Take your finger off it. Now wait a second...does it sound like a phone dialing ? DON'T PICK UP THE PHONE !

It's dialing, that's good. No....no the paper in the top of the machine is supposed to do that...no....don't pull it out. No - it's supposed to do that. See, look it comes out the other side ? I know, pretty cool huh ? Is it all the way through on the the other side ? OK ! We're done. Nice job. You worked really hard on that ! I think we can get a treat now. Wanna go to Starbucks ? How does a frappacino and a cookie sound ? Sounds good to me too.

As I am profoundly tired of listening to the 1-800-54-GIANT commercials on the radio I put my 80's box set in the car not long ago. I heard this song on one of the CDs last night. I laughed as it seems to fit my current situation to a T.

This is Words by Missing Persons.

1981, I was 5.

Lyrics are HERE.

Have a nice Friday all !

Bunny

When You Care Enough To Send The Very Best, Don't Call Me.

2009-06-03T19:13:00.008-04:00

So it seems that as of late our best-est cousin Steph has had quite a run of bad luck. Really.....bad luck of near biblical proportions. If she called me tomorrow and told me that she were swarmed by locusts I would not at all be surprised.

I spoke with her in depth not too long ago in the midst of another really bad day. Of course I was driving around with the Spawn-Of-Satan Unicorns in the back of my car while talking to her

[ Side note to Mumbles Mile here; Yes I drive and talk at the same time all the time and no..I still do not have a Bluetooth. I wanna get a Bluetooth...I really do. I just cannot seem to find the time to drag my ass to the cell phone store or Best Buy or any place else for that matter to acquire that type of technology. Sorry. I know how nuts it makes you when I drive and talk.
I KNOW...DON"T GIVE ME THAT LOOK !!! ]

and I'm all like " Honey, you wanna talk about a bad freakin' day ! ". But I didn't go there.....her Oprah-worthy drama trumped my mite-infested Unicorn dilemma.

I felt that I needed to do something to cheer her up. So I thought and thought and thought about what it would take to bring a smile to this face;

I realize that this picture does not speak to her being the owner of an eyewear boutique. Just believe me when I say that her sense of comedic irony runs as deeply as yours truly. Really, I think it's perhaps why we treasure each other to the degree we do.

At any rate, as I was saying......what could I do to make her a wee bit happier or maybe, just maybe, make her forget about whatever it was that was causing the exponential increase in her Vodka bills.

A Hallmark Card ?

Meh. Been There Done That.

Flowers ?

Yawn.

Candy ?

Not for the OG Whole Foods Shopper.

No. No. No. None of these would do. So then as it does, genius struck.

COMEDY ! That shit lasts for.ev.er. Yes ! Comedy ! Laughing ! Laughing is good !

So I bought her a book. Then I wrote her a letter. And with her express verbal permission I am posting the letter I wrote her here. Now please keep in mind that I do not ascribe to any of the tenants which I have written about in the succeeding letter. This is purely a piece of literary art was intended as such.

12 May 2009
Lamb,

I started thinking that letter writing was a lost art form so as I sit here polishing off an ice cream cone for dinner ( yes, I admit my dietary habits are atrocious - I won‘t even try to paint my eating habits, or lack thereof, in a positive light. When I‘m on Lipitor at 38 then you can say “ I told you so. “. Until then, just take solace in knowing that in this instance clearly you are a better person than I. Why am I eating an ice cream cone for dinner you ask? Because I‘m over 30 and I can. ), I thought I would take this time to channel my inner Bill and pontificate a bit.

It pained me considerably to hear the tales of unpleasantness and nefarious type acts that have recently plagued you. You sounded so pathetic when I spoke with you that well…..I just had to start drinking enough for both of us. Remember, that which does not kill you only makes you self medicate more aggressively. I guess into every life a little malfeasance must fall, but your recent woe-is-me existence is just total bullshit. You’re way too hot to be dealing with shit of this magnitude.
I thought I would try to give you a “ pick me up “ of sorts.
These are the new “After 30 Rules. “. Here goes;

Since you are over thirty I wanted to let you know that it is now perfectly acceptable to tell people to “ Go Fuck Themselves “. Really, I’m giving you permission to do so as you see fit, as often as and to whomever you please.
Although you should probably also know that “ Go Fuck Yourself “ can come in a myriad of forms….why just this week I told a middle-aged man in a Acura sitting next to me in traffic that he had a little dick. And it felt really good.

Hand gestures are also of acceptable use at this point in your life. Flip people off at random to desensitize yourself from the shock of it. Perhaps you may want to start with folks sporting McCain / Palin bumper stickers on their cars. Although in most instances these people are mentally retarded and well, one-finger saluting a retard is just bad karma. We may need to rethink this one. At any rate, giving someone the bird will soon be as natural as breathing or masturbating. You can even make up hand gestures of your own. Of course they won’t have any specific etiology, but the receiver of these meaningless gestures will think they must mean something and will be offended just the same. I’m calling this “ Offense with little effort or forethought “.

By now you should also be enjoying making total strangers uncomfortable. Take public transportation for no real reason other than to tell the person sitting next to you about your recent colonoscopy VERY LOUDLY AND IN GRAPHIC DETAIL. You’ll find that watching people scoot away from you with a slightly pained look on their face will fill you with an unexpected glee.

I’m sure you’ve been onto this for a while, but embarrassing your children can be quite rewarding as well. Although I have no children, I find that embarrassing my parents is equally rewarding. I’m sure the fact that I know a cross-dresser who dates a lesbian has shaved at least three years off my parent’s lives. I admit I get some sort of sick thrill out of watching them squirm, but I really regale them with the ridiculous but entirely true tales of my existence to make up for the indentured servitude I was forced to endure as a child…..but I digress.
Dance in the grocery store. Roll down the windows in the car and sing “ Wind Beneath My Wings “ loudly and off key while at red lights. Change your ring tone to Biz Markie’s
“ Just A Friend. “. Pretty soon those beautiful children of yours will be looking for alternate transportation to social functions and / or school events…..freeing you up for more drinking time. It’s a win-win all around if you ask me.

I guess it’s time for us to have “ the talk “ now…..you know S-E-X. “ Freaky & Frequently “ should be your mantra. I would suggest a hot pink, bobbed style wig ( for you….I don’t think hot pink is really your Husband's color….he‘s a Winter you know) and a crop for starters. Develop an alternate personality, perhaps named “ Sasha “. Remember to stay away from latex - it can irritate like a drunk in-law. Believe me on this one, I speak from experience to both parts of that equation.
Anal beads are a nice touch as well, but I would recommend that you at least take your husband out for dinner and a movie first. It’s been my experience that men need a little buttering up and copious amounts of alcohol before you “ bottom “ them.
And remember the three words that everyone likes to hear…….LUBE. LUBE. LUBE.

Unleashing your inner Diva should also be on the top of your To-Do list. You’re hot. You know it and so should everyone else. The more you spend on grooming and your wardrobe will get you into heaven faster. I find that pretending you are the star of your own reality show is the best way to achieve the swagger you‘ll need to accomplish this. Think
“ The Real Housewives of Golden Valley. “ . Although in your case it’s probably more like “ The Real Civil Union Men of Golden Valley. “ .
Sleeping until noon is also a must. You do need your beauty sleep after all, and your lack of available parenting will only teach your children to become more self-reliant. Again, another win-win.
I recently read an article with a high-powered female executive who stated something to the effect of;

“ When you’re in your twenties you are obsessed with looking older and having others take you seriously. When you’re over thirty you just want to look hot. “

So very true. This is a fully self-realized woman.

Every Diva has a few must-haves that need to be available 24/7. A great pair of panty hose, a tube of concealer, the perfect red lip stick, the number to a great restaurant on speed dial and a credit card her husband doesn’t know about.

In summation, I hope this little “ Pick Me Up “ made you smile and have a giggle or two. I hope you find a certain amount of freedom within the new “ After 30 Rules “.

And if I’ve not done what I had set out to do by writing you this letter and have left you largely befuddled, just remember that I love you. Even if you do hate IKEA.

XO
Me

And I included a personalized second part;

Please accept this small token of my affection. I felt that given your prior experience with the Thanksgiving house guests from hell I thought you’d find the enclosed gift amusing. I especially liked the chapter on alcoholics - hits close to home, you know ? As Brock would say, I think this will “ get you right in your wheelhouse. “ .

At any rate, have I told you that I now possess a Rhode Island drivers license ? I guess this means that I now have a license to sound largely unintelligent when I speak, dress like I’ve shopped the clearance rack at K Mart and develop poor driving habits. Having lived in the Ocean State for a time I now realize why people hate Americans.
I guess you now possess a license to bitch and moan. Go ahead, you’ve certainly earned it. And if anyone gives you any shit at all, tell them to call me. My verbal kung-fu skills are razor sharp these days.

We miss you terribly. Time and distance can be cruel mistresses, no ? As I have stated previously, you are always welcome here - you are Brock’s “ sister “ after all.

So that’s it. I hope this package finds you well - and sober for the most part.

I am pleased to report that she enjoyed this very much. Very Much. I think she might have even laughed.

And lets all Welcome my newest reader...the aforementioned Bill - my brother-in-law. Yep, the Sharp Dressed Man Bill. That one. OK...one...two....three.....all together now.....

" HI BILL !!! "

Well....that is all I have for tonight.

Bunny

Retro Music Friday.

2009-05-29T07:13:00.004-04:00

More about the work situation and why it is currently kicking my ass.........

I have come to realize that there is perhaps little delineation between where my existence and some ( not all ) of my client's existences begin and end. I am so tied into their being-ness that it is as if we are all one in the same. In some instances, where there is little or no family involvement, I am their family. I make sure they have some place to go for Easter and have taken some of them home for holidays. Bought and wrapped their Christmas gifts and pre-planned their funerals with them. Sat in emergency rooms with them and calmed them when they are melting down. Clapped for them and encouraged them when they meet new challenges and picked up the pieces when things fall apart.

Don't misunderstand, I am in no way complaining. I am grateful for the experience of having these people in my life. I have learned many, many, many lessons during my times with them. Things that I would have never had the opportunity to learn anywhere else. I am so profoundly humbled that they place the amount of trust in me that they do.

But as I was saying, I am so tied to some of these folks that when one of them has a really bad week, I have a really bad week.

Like this week for example.........

One of my older clients...ok, who am I kidding here ? She's elderly. She old, old, old. And she has elderly problems. Take it from me, I've seen it up close and personal.....getting old is a bitch.

At any rate, I have been in the habit of taking this client's laundry to yet another client's apartment every week to get washed. She ( my old client ) is in an assisted living facility that has recently been taken over by another company who has decided to now charge for laundry service. And as my client is on a budget this was not a luxury she was going to be able to afford.

Of course I made the executive decision long ago that I would make alternate plans for her dirty laundry as the folks at the assisted living facility were doing a horrid job of it. I was getting really tired of continually tossing clothing that was stained beyond belief. Really, I could not in good conscience let her been seen in such a state. So I was ALWAYS buying her new shirts, pants, etc, etc, etc. So my boss and I decided that we would give another, younger and more independently functioning but largely unmotivated client a job. The younger client felt empowered by her new responsibility and ensuing income, I had clean clothing for my client. A win-win all around.

However I realized this week that the younger, laundry-washing client was in no way prepared, nor should she have been subjected to, the hell-spawn abomination that awaited me when I went to get the dirty clothing from my client's apartment.

Given that her closet was nearly empty, I had precious little time to return the bare necessities back to her. As I was taking an extra day off this week I had no other option but to take the steaming, reeking abomination in a laundry basket to my house to be washed. I really weighed all of my other options, but nothing else would have been feasible or would have fit my schedule.

I pulled into my driveway Tuesday night and The Mister ( because he is so freakin' awesome ) met me in the driveway to help me haul in the laundry - which filled the entire trunk of my Corolla. Upon my lifting of the trunk he stated;

" OH FUCK THAT SMELLS !!! " and then promptly pulled his Bruins hoodie up over his nose.

Yeah, no shit Sherlock. Of course I had been driving around all day with the putrid stench emanating from my trunk and after a while I started to think that it perhaps did not smell as badly as I had initially thought.

I guess I was wrong.

I steadfastly refused to bring the basket into my house. So I there I was Tuesday night in my backyard wading through what ended up being six loads of laundry with blue vinyl gloves on. The Mister was standing by,Bruins hoodie still pulled up over his nose, and now occasionally gagging.

I was suitably annoyed by the situation I found myself in. The Mister would occasionally punctuate my annoyance with;

" Man, they DO. NOT. pay you enough ! "

and

" You have a one-way ticket to heaven hon. "

and

" Christssake that is just WRONG ! "

I ended up tossing yet more clothing and other things. They just could not be saved. Some things had to go through the wash with hot water, Tide and Clorox twice.

Then as I was standing over the dryer at 11 PM that night I realized that if I was annoyed I could probably scarcely imagine what my client must have experienced to have her laundry end up that way.

Kind of an odd lesson in compassion.

But because I can see the humor in almost anything.........

Here is " Take My Breath Away " by Berlin.

I'm sure you all know this went along with the movie Top Gun. Which is one of my Mother's favorite flicks.

1986 - I was ten.

There you have it.

Have a nice weekend all !

Bunny

If I Were Me I'd Kick My Ass.

2009-05-28T18:26:00.005-04:00

Late yesterday, after what was quite possibly my 18th hour of being awake ( not just awake but actively awake. I mean, really freakin' busy awake. not the awake but sitting and eating cookies while watching Oprah busy......REALLY freakin' busy. So busy I was finding it difficult to decide when it would be good time to pee...), I decided that Pink ( the singer, not the color ) was in fact, a genius.
More to the point, I felt that THIS song was speaking directly to me.
I actually said to myself last night " OH MY GOD, PINK SO GETS IT !!!! "

I have to say, if you get to the point where you think that Pink ( the singer, not the color ) must have some sort of cosmic connection to you - you are have reached the point where exhaustion has become delirium. Seriously.

Needless to say, The Mister was not home last night. Had he been here to witness my full-on decent into insanity....well, lets just say he would have pulled me off the 11:30 train to Crazyville before it left the station. I can't be too sure what methods he would have employed to accomplish this, but it could have involved shaking me like a red-headed stepchild.

Why the melt down ? Work has been kicking my ass lately. Kicking. My. Ass. Things are getting added to my To-Do list faster than I can check them off.
It sort of like when you decide to practice your tennis serve with one of those automatic ball machines, only the machine is stuck on high speed. And someone locked you in one of the raquetball rooms at the gym. And you only have a kiddie racket to defend yourself.
Yeah, kicking my ass like that.

I have since revised my opinion about Pink.

Sorry for the lack of posting lately. As I have stated, work has been kicking my ass.

Back to my regularly scheduled nonsense soon enough.
I might actually post a RMF tomorrow.

XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday - The Deal With The Unicorns.

2009-05-08T06:43:00.009-04:00

I should probably put the reference to the Unicorns in the last post in the proper context. I realize that perhaps it seemed a wee bit random.

Ok - get comfy people. This is a long story. Think Homer's Odyssey.

Feel free to hit the bathroom if you need to first...you know....get a drink while you're up. You may want to put your cell over to VM.

Ok. Here goes;

Myself and a co-worker ( " J " )** are co-case managers to a married couple.

Yes, mentally disabled people get married....they are just like you and I. Except they are constitutionally incapable of learning from their mistakes...which is largely why I am employed. If you think about it though, isn't repeating the same sequence of actions and expecting a different outcome every time the clinical definition of insanity ? So really my career entails keeping people from fitting the clinical definition of insanity......does that make me insane by proxy ???? And people wonder why I seem unbalanced at times.

As I was saying....this married couple are moving to a new apartment very soon. So my co-worker and I have been preparing them for their upcoming move. We quickly discovered that this couple are hoarders. Well, maybe not hoarders.....but they seem to be under the impression that you must keep every gift that anyone ever gave you in your lifetime. I have explained to them many,many,many times that it is really OK to part with things. I seem to have the privilege of being the only person they will collectively listen to when it comes to tossing crap. I've found that the best approach with this couple is the " take no prisoners " attitude to tossing stuff. I go through closets / drawers / cabinets like the Tasmanian devil and give them about 2.3 seconds to decided whether or not to keep an item....no time to think in great detail on their part. Seems to be working so far.

At any rate, my client and I had spent about two hours earlier in the week going through bags and boxes they had packed ( Pyrex wrapped in polo shirts ??? ) continuing to toss, reorganize and repack some things. We made pretty good progress too.

As we were getting ready to wrap up the de-crapping party I turned around to spy a HUGE stuffed purple unicorn in the back corner of the room. So I asked my client....

( pointing ) " What is THAT ? "

To which she responded;

" A Unicorn ".

OK, I asked for that one....dumb question, dumb answer.

She continued;

" I have another one in the closet. "

So I said;

" Go and get it. "

She appeared fifteen seconds later with a white version of the purple Unicorn. I'm sure the look on my face as I stood in the presence of two HUGE stuffed unicorns could have most aptly been described as Epic WTF.

Then I thought to myself;

" They DO. NOT. pay me enough to pack up and move two HUGE Unicorns. No. No. No. No. No. "

The look on " J's" face read of ; " Oh. My. God. This is all you girlfriend. " She understanding very well that if anyone was going to convince them that perhaps it was time to part with the Unicorns it was going to be me. We've been calling my weird, Svengali-like influence over these two clients " Jedi Mind Control " .

After much talking and debating and perhaps a little bit of bribing I finally convinced them to give the Unicorns away, " J " and I both realizing that the only appropriate home for them being a dumpster. However I promised to find the Unicorns a good home.

So off I go, down a flight of stairs, trotting out to my car ( although I happened to have Hub's Highlander on this particular day ) with two HUGE Unicorns ( among other things ) under each arm.

Stop and try to get a visual of that for a sec........

I asked " J " if A)I would be eligible for workman's comp if I go ass over teakettle down a flight of stairs carrying two Unicorns and B) what would the internal incident report read if the aforementioned scenario did actually happen.

Fast forward ten minutes or so to " J " and I standing in the parking lot with a massive load of crap we pulled out of our client's apartment. We contemplated putting some of it ( including the Unicorns ) in the dumpster. However these two clients have a habit of spying on the coming and goings in the parking lot. So we knew they were watching us. And as I had promised to give the Uni's a good home I was obligated to drive away with them in the back of The Mister's car. Before I packed them up I started singing.........

" I always feel like.....( client's name) is watching meeeee....."

This is Somebody's Watching Me by Rockwell. 1984 - I was eight. Rockwell is Berry Gordy's son. Michael Jackson is doing background vocals if you listen closely.

On with the story......

I drove home with the Uni's ( among other things ) in the back of The Mister's car. He too saw the absurdity in my current situation and had himself quite a hearty laugh or two at my expense. I told him I was going to put them on the front lawn with a sign that read Free To A Good Home. To which The Mister responded " No. No you're not. " He doesn't want to be Those People, remember ?

Ok, so Plan A was out the window.

Fast forward to yesterday. I was still driving around with these freakin' Unicorns in the back of The Mister's car. I tried to donate them to THREE different charities with no luck. Apparently charities are no longer allowed to accept stuffed animals - you know - mites and shit. I also made way too many phone calls regarding this matter. Really. Occupying the top slot on my To-Do list yesterday was Rid Thyself of Unicorns.

Anywho.....I still had custody of these damn things at 2 PM yesterday. Yep. I spent nearly an entire day trying to rid myself of these things.

At one point I had loaded up The Mister's car with so much crap that the Uni's were now sitting high up in the back of the Highlander. Every time I drove over a bump their demonic looking faces bobbed up and down in the rear view mirror as if to mock me. It was really starting to creep me out after a while.

Then as I was picking up yet more stuff yesterday I had all the doors and the hatch to the Highlander open while I was in the parking lot of an assisted living facility. I had so much athematic junk in my car.....including the damn Uni's....that I started to talk to myself out loud about how my life has become an exercise in ridiculousness. I realized now that it may have appeared to some that I was a crazy homeless person who had been living out of my car.

Ok, wrapping this up.

I finally found a kind individual who let me put the Uni's in their dumpster.

But if asked I will disavow any knowledge of the Uni's whereabouts.

My God that was a long story.

In the back of my mind I am seeing Therese sitting at her kitchen table, reading this post on my blog, laughing her ass off ( so much so that she's probably trying to call Todd over so he can read along, but she can't quite get the words out due to iced caramel macchiato spewing from her nose....) at the visual of me trotting down a flight of stairs with two HUGE Unicorns under each of my arms.

Xooo

Bunny

**There are many reasons that I am quite fond of " J ". Perhaps number One being that she and I had gone to Building 19 to buy furniture for the same two clients ( dudes.....if you've not been to Building 19...you're really not missing much. ). As we entered the building she had accidentally walked in through the out door. To which I remarked " Gee..all you really need now is raspberry beret. " To which she reached in her bag, whipped out a raspberry colored knitted beret and slapped it oh-so-jauntily on her head. Not only did she get the reference ( I can be somewhat obscure at times...) but she had a RASPBERRY BERET IN HER BAG !

An Affliction For Which There Is No Cure.

2009-05-06T20:19:00.001-04:00

Today as I was leaving a client's apartment I uttered words I'm pretty sure that I will never utter ( in this particular combination ) ever again for the rest of my natural life.

The complete absurdity of the statement I had made eluded me until a co-worker pointed it out.

This is what my life has been reduced to. Pay close attention people. These are the warning signs that " The Crazy " is about to mercilessly infiltrate your existence.

Ready ?

Here it is;

" Hey Guys, it's been real. Now give me those Unicorns so I can get out of here. "

Needless to say it is a very, very long story as to why these words came out of my mouth in this combination. And if I tried to explain it to you....well.....you'd all be infected with " The Crazy " by mere association.

XO
Bunny

My Funny Valentine.

2009-05-05T21:07:00.003-04:00

So it seems The Mister has a few admirers of the geriatric, female persuasion.

So we're all on the same page here....The Mister is the executive chef at a very shi-shi, country club-esque assisted living facility ( read: old people with $$ ). Lets just say he's not in the habit of making mac n' cheese on a regular basis for these people.

First there was " Mrs. M. ". As he tells it, Mrs. M was was " sauced " in the dining room one evening and very displeased with her meal selection. As most of the dining room staff are H.S. kids they lacked the sophistication to handle one plastered little old lady...they had to call in the big guns. The Mister had to go out and speak with her - you know...smooth things over with her. Ever since that evening he's been sexually harassed by her on a consistent basis.
By his own admission this behavior is both cute and revolting at the same time.

Today it seems that The Mister has picked up yet another groupie - lets call her "Mrs. A ".

The Mister had gone to work today and had been informed by a co-worker that he had a heart-shaped note in his inner-office mailbox. Thinking this co-worker was yanking his chain he went to investigate the heart-shaped note.
Sure enough said note was indeed in his mailbox.

The exterior of the note read something to the effect of;

" To ( The Mister ) - from your admiring friend. "

He also told me that this note " reeked like hell " from a significant distance. At first he thought the note had perhaps been spritzed with Jean Nate or something......but no....turns out the interior of the note contained a Yankee Candle Sage & Citrus car freshener.

The interior of the note went on to read something to the effect of how fantastic a chef he is and so on and so forth.
I guess Hubs got a pretty good ribbing from some of his co-workers today.

So yeah....that's that.
I can't say I'm really threatened or anything.
In fact I think these little old ladies ( although I've never met any of them ) are painfully cute.

Coo Coo Ka Choo.
XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday.

2009-04-25T18:26:00.003-04:00

I was looking for a source of inspiration for today's RMF....and although I truly hate to benefit at the loss of others.......

So, it looks like Bea Arthur passed away. I guess kinda like the Beatles there are only two people at the four-top left now. Which, if you think about a Beatles / Golden Girls comparison it kinda makes sense.......

Let me break it down for you;

Sophia = Lennon ( everyone's favorite )

Dorothy = Harrison ( not the star, but still an important part..)

Blanche = McCartney ( the cute / slutty one...)

Rose = Ringo ( the loveable goofball )

So, RIP Bea.....we hardly knew ye.

At any rate, too nice outside to be sitting here talking to you people and besides Sox/ Yankees are on FOX........catch ya later ! =)

Bunny

I'm Still Alive Over Here.

2009-04-21T06:02:00.002-04:00

I decided that I would let The Mister make the decision as to whether or not to get this b-day gift early.

And after he'd tortured himself for two full days wondering what I had been up to with " K " he decided that he just. couldn't. wait. any. longer.

I had anticipated a more immediate and intense reaction upon his first view of the pictures.
The Mister doesn't speak needlessly, but he's never at a loss for words.

As he ( very slowly ) flipped the pages he said something to the effect of;

" I feel like if I make any sort of comment it just wouldn't be the right words. "

He did start and abruptly stop a lot of sentences though. And he did more than his fair share of giggling like a little school girl.

I think he's looked at the pictures at least 157 times in a 24 hour period.

He's so cute.
Precious even.

XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday.

2009-04-19T05:48:00.007-04:00

I should probably just start calling these posts " Retro Music Friday -When I Can Get My Ass In Gear. " I'm really going to try to start a regular Friday posting routine again. It seems as of late that my Fridays have been a wee bit on the insanely busy side........

Ok, moving on........The Mister's birthday is this week and as I have stated previously I am through buying him material possessions for his birthday. Unlike a lot of men out there my Mister has no issue going shopping for himself when the mood strikes him. I only rarely make an attempt at buying him clothing....never do I attempt sporting goods or the like. At any rate, I started scratching my head about this year's birthday experience about three months ago. And then as it does, genius struck......

I'm sure those of you that know me ( Therese.....nothing I do shocks her anymore. My eyeballs could lite themselves on fire, spring from my skull and roll down the street and she may feign mild disbelief) will not be shocked at all by this, but....I had " boudoir " photos taken of myself a few days ago. And in case I need to be more specific;

Boudoir Photos = Nude Pictures. ( Ok, maybe not totally nude...I was wearing earrings and shoes in some of the pics...)

Oh yes I did. And they came out awesome ! I've been looking at the proofs all weekend and I still can't quite believe that is me in the pictures !

I went with one of my coworkers to the photography session as the photographer was a friend of hers. His website is HERE. ( And upon further investigation I found out that he used to work at French Vogue. Tell me my inner SITC geek wasn't all a twitter when I found that out ! ) I could not have pulled this off without her, so mad love for " K ". I knew she's be totally cool with it and I was right. She did not even bat an eye at my disrobing. Not even a hiccup. In fact, she even went so far as to compliment my shape. " K "'s definition of what constitutes beauty in the feminine form is not at all in line with current trends and I so dig that about her.

I have to say though that once you've had one of your coworkers dust your naked ass with Victoria's Secret Heavenly Angels glitter powder that relationship moves on to a whole new level of intimacy.

I will not be posting any of these pics on here....they are property of The Mister.

This is " K " and I. Tell me we don't look like some sexed up, nymphette version of Laverne and Shirley.

So for this week here is Centerfold by The J. Geils Band. I felt it was appropriate given the events of this weekend. " K " did feel that I could have submitted some of the pics to Playboy. I won't go that far...but they are damn good. Although I've always told The Mister if Playboy finally does the " Heavy Honeys " issue I'm all over it.

1982 - I was 6. And FYI, it is a common misconception that the lead singer of the J. Geils band was J. Geils.....it is not. The lead singer is Peter Wolf.

I'm pretty sure that the only person seeing me naked when I was 6 was my mother. And speaking of my mother....she has NO IDEA that I have done this. As I have stated previously, my parents have been tortured enough and they have no clue that I have a blog ( I seriously doubt that they have any idea what a blog even is.....my dad spends all his online time looking for Catherine Bell in the buff and my mom quite fancies her computer games. ). Nor have I told my sister...because much like a catholic priest.....her ears are a direct line to God ( i.e. my mother ).

It's not long before Blogger slaps me with a Content Warning, is it ?????

And at the risk of becoming pathologically unoriginal I still think this THIS is hysterically funny.

So in summation...after seeing these pics one of us ( either me or The Mister ) may be dead by the end of the week.

Either he is going to drop dead of a massive coronary or he'll screw me to death.

If none of you hear from me by Thursday please notify the proper authorities.

Bunny

NAMA & My Replacement.

2009-04-12T20:27:00.007-04:00

Ever heard of NAMA ??? Neither had I until today. What is NAMA you ask ? Why it's the North American Moron Association. And apparently they have a newsletter that I am not privy to. Further more this newsletter must have advised ALL the morons in North America to get behind the wheel of their cars TODAY. All of them. At the exact same time.

Unlike the rest of the free world I had to work today. My commute is a challenge on a good day, but throw in card-carrying members of NAMA all dressed in their Sunday best, piled 17 deep in a Windstar, trying to find Great-Aunt Ethel's house......and well, my normally challenging commute turns into well...........a flippin' nightmare.

I had to call Mumbles Mile and voice my frustration, which included a certain amount of four letter words.......thankfully Mumbles Mile is not easily offended.

Not sure if any of you other long term couples do this or if it's just us......OK, or if it's just me.

I have expressed my thoughts to The Mister on the next woman he should date and/or marry should I get creamed by a bus tomorrow. The Mister rolls his eyes and humors me as I'm sure you can all imagine.
The woman I have sort of based my replacement on is Bridget from The Girls Next Door. Now bear in mind I said " sort of " based. I've taken the salad bar approach to spouse shopping for him....you know...a little of this....a little of that.
I've seen TGND a few times....mostly to try to understand how an 80-something guy who looks like The Crypt Keeper continually dates women less than one-third his age.......I suppose " because he can " is the easy answer, second only to his really fat.....wallet.
Anyway, Bridget always seemed like a sweet and genuine girl. Not a snarky bone in her body ( unlike someone else we know....).
At some point this week The Mister had seen Bridget's new show on the Travel channel. And based on his verbalization earlier this evening I guess it's back to the drawing board for me.
Our conversation was rather one sided, but it went something like this;

TM: Hey, know that Playboy Bunny you keep telling me I need to marry....
Me: Yeah ?
TM: I watched that beach show the other night on the Travel Channel for a few minutes...
Me: And ?
TM: Oh My God.....she's an IDIOT!
Me: But.....
TM: Oh my God...could you have at least picked someone who would stimulate me intellectually ?
Me: But....
TM: I mean.....can I get someone who's outgoing, beautiful and smart ?
Me: But she's outgoing and smart......and she.....
TM: I'd rather beat myself senseless with a lead pipe than have to spend 10 minutes with her....
Me: But she seems.....
TM: Know what would be better than dating her ? Running full speed into a brick wall.
Me: BUTSHESEEMSSOSWEET!!!!
TM: I'd rather jerk off with a chain mail glove than listen to her mindless drivel.....
Me: But she...she...SHESEEMSSOSWEET !!!!

::::::sigh:::::::::

Like I said, back to the drawing board.

XO
Bunny

Retro Music Friday.

2009-04-10T08:41:00.015-04:00

Today's post was inspired by the friendly folks at PETA. Apparently they've requested that the Pet Shop Boys change their name to " The Rescue Shelter Boys." You can read more about it HERE.
I appreciate what the folks at PETA do, and I understand why they operate in such extreme measures.....but isn't there a Japanese whaling ship they can go after ? Perhaps somewhere there is a celebrity they can throw buckets of red paint on and call " MURDERER !!!!!"
I find it somewhat puzzling and highly amusing that they are aiming their guns on The Pet Shop Boys.

At any rate, I'm sure none of you will be shocked that I loves me some 80's Brit Synth Pop.
So today I'm giving y'all an 80's Brit Synth Pop three'fer.

Say what you will about this particular genre of music, but some of these song really stand the test of time. Or at least in my head they do.......... but then again there is a lot of shit that only makes sense in my head..........

This is West End Girls by The Pet Shop Boys. Please forgive me if I've already put this one up on a previous RMF. I love this song.......from what I can tell this song was released in Europe in 1984, but wasn't released in the States until 1986. I was 10.

Speaking of me being 10....I recently took apart all the picture boards from my Grandmother's wake and came across a picture with myself in it where I was 10. I had the MOST HORRENDOUS hair cut. UGH ! I was just this side of a full on Carol Brady shag / mullet.
But then again everyone looked horrid in the 80's, right ? Right ? Please tell me everyone looked horrid in the 80's........it wasn't just me, right ????

Here's Promises, Promises by Naked Eyes. I played hookie from work one day last week to go shopping at Old Navy. ( hey, wanna know who's in Old Navy at noon on a Monday ? Nobody. Well ok......me and a couple of SAHMs. Which, if you ask Dooce what SAHM means she'll tell you it means Sh!t A$$ Ho M0therfuc#er........but I digress)
They were playing this on the PA and I had forgotten how much I liked this song.
1983, I was 7.

File under " Throwing The Mister A Bone ", this is True Faith by New Order. The Mister loves New Order. By and large The Mister is not all that complex of a guy to figure out. But his fondness for New Order makes me scratch my head every single time.
1987 - The Mister was 11.

So there you have it.
Sorry this is a day late.

XO
Bunny

Just Like Having A Pet Tiger.......

2009-04-09T06:40:00.004-04:00

OK, so apparently Billy Bob Thornton gave a really bizarre interview on CBC.
I can't say I'm entirely shocked. Come on....this is Billy Bob Thornton we're talking about. He's Grade A BSC.
If I were the interviewer I would totally have expected this.

It's like those people who you occasionally see on Good Morning America or The Today Show....( who really watches The Early Show on CBS ??? ) They usually live in some trailer park in Tennessee or Arkansas or some other gravel pit town with a Wal-Mart. They have a FREAKIN" TIGER caged up in the back yard and then they act all shocked when Fluffy goes bananas and eats the four year old Grandson during a birthday party.
Can't you hear it now ( insert hick drawl here )....... " He was always such a nice pet, we dun had him since he was a cub..he usedta sleep in the bed with us until he got too big.....he's jus like a member of the family...."

DUUUUHHHHH....IT'S A WILD ANIMAL !!!!! YOU HAD TO KNOW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN EVENTUALLY.

Or as it applies to BBT;

DUUUUHHHHH...IT'S BILLY BOB THORNTON !!!! YOU HAD TO KNOW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN EVENTUALLY.

The interview in its entirety can be found HERE.

XO
Bunny

P.S. If you guys have not seen Bad Santa please do yourselves a favor and put it on your NetFlicks Queue. You'll not be disappointed.

A Day In The Life of Bunny

Hey Mumbles.......

Thus Far, The Best Quote Of 2010

Pardon Me While I Go Get My Tub Of Duncan Hines Dark Chocolate Frosting.

East Coast Dooce ?

How To Keep A Two Year Old Entertained At The Ass Crack Of Dawn. a.k.a. Another Post About My Niece

Miss Cleo Ain't Got Shit On Me.

What Happens When You're On Santa's " Naughty " List.

The Buck Stops At Auntie....

Eleven Days Till Santa Comes.........

The Countdown Begins.

The Untitled Post About That Time I Quit My Job.

The Best Show Ever.

Fear And Loathing In Home Depot.

Retro Music Friday - The Mister's Fan Club, Population One And A Half.

You Know Things Are Bad When You Fuck Up " Rock Bottom ".

Eleven Years, One Month And Five Days.

A Big Shout Out To Whomever My Guardian Angel Is.......

Retro Music Friday - Twitter Style.

The Best Tweet Ever.

I Don't Even Know Where To Start......

In Regard To The Unfunny Shit My Dad Says.

'Cause The Shit My Dad Says Isn't That Funny

Messin' With Sasquatch a.k.a Drunk Blogging.

Wherein We Begin Buying Geritol At Costco.

Retro Music Friday - Yes, I Am A Real Person.

The Untitled Post.

Why I Love Dan Savage.

Nate.

Why I'm Not On Twitter.

This Year's Hottest Christmas Toy - Jailbird Elmo.

Easier Said Than Done.

I'm Not Entirely Sure...But,

Retro Music Friday.

Why People Hate Americans.

Retro Music Friday - Return Of The Parrot.

Stacy's Mom - Minstrel Of Satan.

Insanely Cute And Accutely Insane.

Flu!

Adventures In Drywall.

Retro Music Friday.

Life On Planet Bunny.

Falling Off The Wagon.

My Dream Job.

Please Start Your Prayer Chains Now.

God I Miss Beavis & Butthead !

Mr. & Mrs. Hot Stuff Explained.

Dusty.

Retro Music Friday - A Two Part'er.

Identity Crisis.

Retro Music Friday - A Day Late.

The Eyes Are The Windows Of Your Face.

F#ckin' Bill. **

The New Models Are Coming Out Early This Year......

Retro Music Friday - My Violent Thud Onto Terra Firma.

Desk Chair Yoga.

" How Random Can We Be ? " - The Mister

Dawn Comes To Marblehead.

Retro Music Friday.

Before Y'All Go Putting Out And A.P.B.......

If Cute Was A Weapon These Kids Would Be On Death Row.

He Knows He Only Gets Five.

Happy 4th Of July !

Requiem For An Old Lover.

The Lesser Of Two Evils.

Retro Music Friday - The Apples Don't Hang Too Far Apart On The Tree.

In The Movie Of My Life The Part Of Stephanie Will Be Played By Patricia Arquette

I <3 Craigslist.

Theory Vs. Reality, Ark Building, Missing 80's Pop Stars, Facebook & An Apology.

Retro Music Friday - My First Product Review

Welcome To WalMart.

Bunny Vs. Slim & The Two Darrells - Round One * 500th POST ! *

Hootie & The Blowfish Are C*ckS*ckers.

Reflections On Our Cat.

Retro Music Friday - Our Very Own Gitmo

Checkin' His Zen.

My Size Nine Dirty Secret And Other Things Of Questionable Taste.

Retro Music Friday.

When You Care Enough To Send The Very Best, Don't Call Me.

Retro Music Friday.

Hootie & The Blowfish Are CckSckers.