well I'm tired and bored and awake and I thought I would take this time instead of writing to talk about what's actually bothering me to suggest another word that I think needs to be added to the english language and that is the word snarky. Now snarky is an adjective as in "That was a snarky remark to make." And snarky should generally be considered to mean partially sarcastic and mean, but at the same time not completely effective. (A snarky remakr always makes the user look a little pathetic.) Then there is a derivative of snarky, which is snarkling. Snarkle would be the verb form of snarky hence "Those two teenage girls snarkled at me all through the prom."

Because if I get just one person to use the word snarky, I'll feel I'll have done my job as a totally ineffective bloggeur.


"I mistook sex for love once...It was great." Sandy the bartender in the film Roxanne an adaptation of Cyrano De Bergerac

Ok so a couple of things here. First you all ask for sex, and then I give it to you and there is a total lack of shout out. The last time I ever do anything for you people.

So here is how the last few minserable days have gone. So I finally dragged my sorry ass out of bed on wednesday to go downtown and meet my friends for some hang out time before we went to see the Matrix 2. Wednesday, I totally forgot, was Grad Alley. Grad Alley was introduced the year that I graduated from NYU (1997). Back then it was pretty much as exciting as the strawberry festival, there was popcorn and cotton candy, but it wasn't anything worth getting your panties in a twist about. I think I covered everything there was to do there in about twenty minutes.

Currently Grad Alley has fireworks, performance art, several food stations, balloon twisters, face painters, circus performers, live music, and several promotional give aways (including the NYU alumnae association hat that I m currently wearing-hey I'm nyu alum, I earned it). So it has become this huge thing (Please file under "the myriad ways I was totally screwed by being born at the wrong time"). So I went with a pack of friends, and we had a great time totally stocking up on cotton candy and mountain dew, but there was this fear in me the whole time, that HIM, Eric Kinsman (see archives specifically last month) would be around, would surface and I would have to actually see him. But no. It was possible he wasn't even there (although I find it hard to believe).

Now I had a great time that night (I was out until four in the morning), but as I said before happiness doesn't make for good material.
-so tired-must rest-don't worry more serious drama to come
Riff Raff: Say good bye to all of this

Audience: Good bye all of this

Riff Raff: And hello to oblivion

Audience: Hi oblivion. How's the wife and kids?

Rocky Horror Picture Show

Well, just a quick short comment-Commencement for NYU Class of 2003. As Kurt Vonnegutwould say, "good bye and good luck" or as Douglas Adamswould say "So long and thanks for all the fish" or as I would say "GO ON AND LEAVE ALREADY."



"That was incredible. Even my teeth feel relaxed." Loser

Barely have energy to type. That boy just wrecks me every time. I am so tired and sore and yet completely relaxed. Happy happy satisfied little bunni (attempts to twitch tail but falls over with the effort). Yes so D and I went for drinks last night (always a mistake, he always gets me all liquored up before he takes advantage and then he says that I'm a bad influence because I let him sleep late-as if I can control the boy) and then frolicking in my apartment. Ok so just to go against all of you bunniblog is uptight about sex critics, I'll give you some details. D. has two natures. At night he likes to be dominating. He is one of the few people who can actually make me feel inexperienced. He was the first person, actually now that I think about it he is the only person, to tie me up. (The first time I got loose too easily-now he brings longer rope-last night I had a bitch of a time getting free-for a while there he just sat on my bed watching me struggle) but during the day he is very sweet and snuggly and in terms of sex very normal. he is like me in this. One of my former friends talked about the fact that at night I was definately trouble, but then during the day it was like the night never happened. He was shocked at how innocent (compared to what I can get up to at night) I look the day after. But D is always very sweet during day (hard to reconcile with the man who ties me up naked and pulls my hair) which makes me wonder is it just me? Is it that there is some special tenderness for me, after all D. knows me from when I was so sexually inhibited I wouldn't get on top , or is that is simply how he operates? D. has said some things in the past (D., although he totally rejects this claim, used to call me the devil, as he said I was the best argument for sin ever made) like in january he said, "You are the most irresistable person I have ever met...why is that?" (I haven't a damn clue-On that same occassion he also said that I was strangely nice to him in fact too nice) And what D doesn't accept is that I feel the same way about him. And D. just damn fucking hot. And I'm not just talking about the high cheek bones and the hazel eyes, but the whole punk attire, the chained wallet, the hobnail boots, the gas station attendant shirt. The whole quiet rebel thing.(Think Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer-shut up it's a good show, and suprisingly there is a lot of significant symbolism in the show-really) That whole bad boy with a heart of gold thing is really attractive.

And I can remember D. from when he was twenty and I was twenty three. I can remember those days when we just lie in his apartment, with the fan on, naked under a sheet on a matress on the floor. The window would be open, and we would hear other people's radios playing that awful rap remake of the Police's "Every Breathe You Take". He would take me so many times that I could still feel him, the motion of his hips, for days afterwards. My hands memorized every part of him in those long days,the high arch of his rib cage, the nubs of his bones, he was built like grey hound in those days. the days where sleep and sex blended so much that after a while everything simply seemed like a dream. And I remember the doorstep where we sat the very first night we met and watched the sun rise. And I remember that he almost stood me up for our first date, how different would things have been if he had. And now I am one of the people who has known him the longest. And I do have one trait that seperates me from his other friends, and this he acknowledges. I am the one person who knows they are going to die. And I know this is not the worst thing that will happen to me. D and I both understand that. But how I miss that girl I used to be back then. And part of what keeps the two of us together must be that in being close to each other we can back to those people we used to be. D. was happier then, not as jaded, and he is beginning to miss the boy he was, the sweet thing he used to be. In the mornings, he is like that boy again. I wake up ll entangled in him, my leg thrown over his hip, my head resting on my shoulder. I look to wake up and feel his breathe against my neck, his arms wrapped around me. The moments I have with D in the mornings are the few occassions that I feel safe anymore, the few moments when I feel that something, anything has gone right in the universe. It is always a fight not to tell him that I love him. That he cares for me is clear (he has saved my ass on many occassions and one of the only reasons I am alive right now is that many times D. dropped everything to come over and watch a movie with me or just sit and listen to me babble) but he won't let me get close enough to love me. Or at least that is how things seem to me. But if D. ever asked, I would drop everything and move to Bora Bora for that boy. Of course, that's a totally safe comment for me to make since he would never dare ask.

My lips are swollen, bruised, bitten. I am sore, and my nipples are going to be rock hard for the next two days. I would like to say this. Until D. I was never a fan of tongue piercing, but I was REALLY WRONG ABOUT THAT because a man who knows how to use a tongue stud is a rare and fabulous gem. Trust me ladies, it will be a night very well spent.

But how I love that man of mine.


"Look at me masterbating in the shower. This will be the high point of my day. It's all down hill from here." American Beauty

Ok so I have a lot to write about here. I have been grading and dating and dating and grading.

But first a clarification. I talked about the date of friday, and I said that drunkness and moderate nudity was involved. OK AT NO POINT DID I SAY I WAS NAKED IN A BAR. That would be because I wasn't. My evening involved drinking at one location and nudity at another location, specifically at my apartment. And some of you are disappointed by the coyness of the statement. Some have even go so far as to say that this representative of the "uptight" nature of my generation (Gen X).

another brief aside I would like to rename generation Y generation whine...thank you

OK so for those of you who think that I have shirked my responsibility by telling you what exactly happened, this is a valid point. But the question is where does the responsibility to myself end the responsibility to bunniblog begin. (I can't believe I'm having this serious of a debate for a blog that all of ten people read on a given day if I am exceptionally lucky). So anyway, this issue bcame mor ecomplicated last night when I went on a date with someone who actually reads this blog and fully expects to see the date documented here. This creates in my wierdness because I can not be my usual self as I know I will actually be accountable on some level about what I write. Since bunniblog was originally conceived as a stream of consciousness blog or at least the inner most thoughts of bunni. SO MANY ISSUES FOR A SILLY LITTLE BLOG. SO back to the nudity. Um, many people they didn't get the nasty details. Well, that may be partially because I prefer not to remember them right now. But rest assured you will be getting a lot of details soon.

So let me see, um, date last night. Ok the thing about blind dates (PLEASE FILE UNDER "IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME) is that you are standing there waiting every man becomes a possibility. So there you are nervously awaiting whoever it is (secretly fearing that the homeless guy on the corner is your date) and he finally walks up and your response is "Oh, I can deal with this." It was one of those dates that makes one realize why drinking is such an integral part of dating. First it takes the edges off things, but secondly (and this is why I always drink wine with dinner on a date) being bored can be hidden under a look of hazy tipsiness. There wasn't much material to exploit either way here except a lot of psychobabble about our childhood, which honestly, I pay good money to talk to a shrink about. But my feeling here is that all my dates from hence forward are CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGATED to supply me with material. You hear that guys, you better have a floor show or some sort of serious party trick before you ask me out. Or, you can always arrive with a lemur (I will also accept sloths, but emus are right out).

This brings me to another chapter in the Book of Dating According to Blogger Kay . Now I would like to specify that this is apparently an issue only for me, but nothing pisses me off more than when a guy asks me out and then he doesn't have a plan. I'm not talking about something major, like the ice capades do a choreographed number just for us in the middle of Washington Square or a thousand lizzards being released into the Bronx just for me. I'm just sayin' have an idea. Like this "non-date" on Sunday. The guy actually gave me three options brunch, drinks, or a movie. He even named a specific film. This makes life much easier for me instead of shifting the responsibility of the date to me. Listen you asked me, that means you should come up with the activites. I hate showing up and hearing "ok so what should we do?" My response from now should be "Look for a tire iron that I can beat you with."

Ok so Chris D is coming over tonight which means two things. Don't expect another entry tonight. And two it means I will be enjoying sensual pleasures. Oh how I miss Chris D. The thing about D, can I call him that please? Ok the thing about D is he is very capable of sudden sweetness. Like the last time I saw him, I commented that he doesn't kiss me on the forehead like he used to. (When we were actually dating five years ago, instead of fooling around on occassion. He was always very affectionate. One time he kissed me on the forehead and then said "i get the feeling some times that you don't actually like it when I am affectionate. That feeling he got came from the fact that I couldn't really tell if he liked me or not and I found those affectionate moments confusing.) As soon as I said it, he kissed me on the firehead. Now true, its an easy thig to do, but D does have one big advantage. He is big in the snuggling. Have snuggling, will travel. ( Hey Jin, is it funny the second time around.) So tomorrow I will wake up in my bed naked snuggling with a beautiful man. And I will be very happy very briefly. Set your watches people.

There is a lot else to write, but I must go. I have therapy and then ballroom and then D. oh yes baby, right THERE...happy now you perverts?


And since I have a date like EVERY NIGHT THIS WEEK (which makes me feel almost as good as being the number one search result for bunniblog on google...almost) with a DIFFERENT GUY EVERY NIGHT. (Live the dream, baby, live the dream.) And so a friend of mine has suggested that I give these men a kind of manual on dating me, since a little bunni like me needs special care. So here is a quote to help all those guys out there hoping to be my special someone:

"Don't be a guy. There are thousands of guys. Be a man." Lili Taylor Say Anything

Oh and this is for ALL OF MAN (and I do men just the men) KIND-call the day after you sleep with a girl. Take five minutes out of your day. Really. It's a small thing that will make all the women of the world, ok all the straight women of the world, much easier. Even if you're call is to say, "Look, last night was great, but I can't see you again because I am actually an alien doing reconnaissance and the mother ship is leaving in five hours, but I shall think of often as I look out at my new home of Alpha Centauri."

Don't you feel better?
"I'm talking about total chaos...Dogs and cats living together." Bill Murray as Prof. Venckman in the original Ghostbusters

Oh, the DEPRESSION. Yep don't worry here at bunniblog we don't stay happy for long and that, unfortunately, makes for good material. I even went on another date today with this guy named Steve. Although he asked me to see the romantic comedy Down with Love and drinks and paid for everything including the cab home, he stipulated that it wasn't a date. Well, what is it exactly when you ask a girl you met in a bar two weeks ago to a romantic comedy and drinks? Not a date? It is an event perhaps?


But in a way I'm glad he said it wasn't a date, because when he asked me mid way through the $64,000 question, are you seeing anyone? I had to say, well, um, a lot of people actually. A LOT. I got another response from Match, which means two possibles there, "-", kab, and possibly Sean the french mover and now Steve. It's almost like dating the entire cast of Ghandi.

And yet strangely I am very depressed because I have yet to actually get a boyfriend. I miss the curling up on the couch and snuggling. The sex is easy to find. Trust me. I don't have to leave the building to find sex, but the rest of it, the companionship, that's what I cant find. And that's what I miss. And that is what makes me depressed.

On the other hand, maybe I need to give a guy more than two dates to get to the snuggling...maybe..,
Blogger Jin has suggested that perhaps I should rename this blog "Cock Hunter." Unfortunately there is already a CockHunter . Just goes to show that any good idea has already been thought up by some one in the prn industry first. (You know velcro had to be invented by someone in porn.)

Also for all of you who are interested, cute hot french guy hasn't called yet (predictably). So if any of you know a french guy named sean who works for Ben Hur movers, tell him to call me! Have cat, will travel.

And finally hats off to Tim whose comment on Shout Out predicted correctly what was going to happen this weekend. We also welcome him as the newest addition to the links section!

Finally, I have been informed that we here at bunniblog have recently accomplished our goal and BECOME THE NUMBER ONE SEARCH RESULT ON GOOGLE FOR BUNNIBLOG. Today google. TOMORROW THE WORLD. MWAHAAAHAAHAAA. Cough. hack. some one get me a glass of water .