Hostel II: The Next Generation
Yesterday I was sitting in the park with my elf, and these two little girls walked by each gnawing on a SpongeBob ice cream bar. The elder girl, with long blonde pair and a pink dress, said to her friend, "I always go for the eyeball first."

And I thought, "You know, I'll come out of retirement to teach her. Perhaps there really is hope for the next generation."

Fun with Fillerbunni: Searches
While you wait for my review of Hard Candy, coming out later today bog willing, here are two searches that brought people to Bunniblog:

wives who want to cheat and fuck right know

sex for women

that is all.

Rembrance of Things Past: Bunni Edition
It seems that everyone is moving-Captain Ron to his new brownstone in Yonkers, the Amazon to the Village, and my beloved Coffeeslave to Philly. I am the only constant; should I change my course, sailors would no longer no have to navigate for the very stars will have moved out of position.

Last night Coffeeslave and I sat outside and pondered life, the universe, and everything. She was waving her beer in a bag under the clear night sky, "As soon as I get to Philly I'm going to find me a young man. I'm gonna cruise in my car sayin' 'I'll get you beer. Here have a cigarette.' Oh yes."

Rarely the universe sends me a person to remind me that I'm not quite as crazy as I would like to think I am.

I'm going to miss her.

Disappointing the Elders of Zion
You really don't know how bad of Jew you are till you find yourself on Easter Sunday managing to get your cart filled with 14 pounds potato salad and marinated chicken onto the sidewalk without breaking anything, musing your drawn on whiskers, or knocking your bunni ears off and the lovely middle aged woman on the arm of a priest nods at you and says, "My aren't you the cutest little bunni?"

My father would be so proud.

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