Bunquila's First Birthday
BunnySis scored a sweet apartment in Lincoln Park. She moves in sometime next week, so this week has been dedicated to the decorating of the BunnySis pad, specifically the painting of its walls.
While sponging pink fluff onto her living room wall, pink fluff because she wants her apartment to look like a Victoria's Secret dressing room, I heard the engines of jets swooping low over the roof. They kept rocketing by, every two minutes or so. We eventually deduced that this was because the Chicago Air Show was going on at Navy Pier.
I had seen the Chicago Air Show last year, and began to regale BunnySis with the details of jet maneuvering, how dangerous it appears and such, when it hit me that I had invented the Bunquila one year ago to the day. If you don't know what a Bunquila is, then you are lucky. However, for informational purposes I'll explain how it is made: RedBull Energy drink and Tequila.
Because I hate myself, I decided to go out and drink many Bunquilas to celebrate. Yes, I wanted to celebrate creating a really crappy drink that tastes horrible and makes you lose control of all but the most base faculties. BunnySis agreed to come along, but would not agree to drinking any Bunquilas, smart girl. She set up a meeting spot, McGee's in Lincoln Park, and invited Drock, his lovely girlfriend "Bee" and WillyDuer to join the birthday celebration.
McGee's was hosting some sort of post road race event. The bar was full of hot women in those wafer-like running shorts that barely cover the ass, men who wanted to get into the wafer-like shorts, Gwenabe Depaul girls hoping "Hollaback" was next on rotation, and snotty waitresses. BunnySis and Bee discussed lip gloss and Bedazzlers, while WillyDuer and I listened to Drock make vast generalizations such as: "Bulimics are vain," "Gay men are homogenous," and my favorite "Jewish women love my dick." His mind unravels in fascinating ways. Its best to just sit and listen.
I had a few glasses of wine to warm up, because the Bunquila is not a starter drink. It must be eased into, like the Jagerbomb, the Irish Car Bomb, or any other bomb drink. After Cabernet number three, I was lit enough to tell everyone that I can't wait to get fake tits because having the ultimate sex toy sewn into my body and on the premises permanently is my vision of nirvana. Then I burped very loudly into the outgoing ass of Gwenabe. I keep trying to tell you people how dastardly unsexy I am. Yet, you still want the BunBun. I don't get it.
At some point in the night, a very good suggestion was made. It came directly after Drock's story about a pregnant, track-marked stripper from Milwaukee he'd met, and with enough liquor, it segues quite well from topic to topic. The suggestion was this: We should ride the bull at Hogs and Honeys. This was a terribly good idea at the time; a chance for me to change venues, commit myself to drinking a lot of Bunquilas, and take advantage of the low lighting at Hogs and Honeys.
WillyDuer drove, sort of. He was all over the damn road, but I won't criticize his driving skills too much because I want to fuck his girlfriend. When we got to Hogs and Honeys, the place was literally ours, and we could not understand why so few people wanted to ride mechanical bulls at 8pm on a Wednesday night. A round of drinks was ordered, one of which was a Bunquila. It was passed around, rejected by all but its mommy, and then lovingly downed. Everyone thought I was fucking crazy, but that's just Wednesday.
The emcee took to the microphone announcing that the bull was open for business. I immediately signed up to ride it, but it turns out that a valid driver's license is necessary to ride a bull. Why is this? It's not like I'm going to be parallel parking the bull? I'm not going to take the bull out for a joyride, or make dangerous lane changes with the bull. I just want to sit on it, pretend I'm humping its back and get thrown off. The emcee did not understand my argument, and frankly, I don't think he's a nice man. I told him so. It was right after this incident that I coped with a double tall Bunquila, so I blame him for everything I did after drinking it.
The bar began to fill in with insanely hot black girls who, thankfully, had valid drivers' licenses, and humped that contraption all night. Two wore short skirts and danced on the bar, and I must admit, I looked up their skirts because I am a total perv.
I wish I could tell you the things Tequila said. I wish I could tell you the things Tequila did. I wish I knew how Tequila and I ended up in Old Town chatting about tap shoes with some Septuagenarian. Alas, I cannot remember. Bunquila's first birthday celebration is now nothing but shadows on the curtain of my memory and random physical evidence, business cards, several 4 for 1 photo strips of Bee, BunnySis and I smiling and licking each other's cheeks, and lipsticks I've never seen before. What's more, there is a thong in my purse, and it is not mine.
As these things spilled onto the sidewalk in front of my building a few hours ago, (because I can't hold a purse erect AND puke at the same time) it occurred to me that I am a 28 year old woman who is puking up RedBull and Tequila at noon on a Thursday. I should probably grow up and be more responsible.
I plan to celebrate the one-day anniversary of my new grownupedness with a pub crawl on Friday night.
Comments
So bunny we know every intimate secret, why havent we seen you in a risque outfit. Perhaps even a bathing suit? If we are to judge let us judge.
Posted by: Buffalo Man at August 18, 2005 07:01 PM
Bunny you are awesome! don't ever grow up and don't stop riding the bull! you rock. Lol, an adoring fan of bunny
Posted by: MIA at August 18, 2005 07:41 PM
growing up is overrated, who needs it
Posted by: Lox at August 18, 2005 09:50 PM
Dude,I'm scared we may be sorta the same person I have two great rooftops for much alcohol and debauchery during the air and water show...
hopefully you'll be on one of them.
Drunken Cheers,
bridget
Posted by: Bridget at August 18, 2005 10:00 PM
Growing up means understanding that the world does not revolve around you, and recognizing your obligations to people who depend on you. In which case you grew up a long time ago.
Maybe you should also paint over her windows seeing as she is so afraid of showing her face to the world.
Posted by: jay at August 18, 2005 10:25 PM
Go Bunny! I plan on trying Bunnicula one of these days just for the hell of it. I'm hoping something intresting happens considering I get falling down drunk off two beers.
Posted by: Bored Housewife at August 18, 2005 10:33 PM
I would just like to point out, in defense of BunnySis' anonymity, that I list my last name on my site. Posting a pic of BunnySis AND listing her last name would be bad. She rather likes her big girl job.
She just went on an interview, and an AE at the agency asked her if she was BunnySis. I'M FAMOUS! I will bring hot horny vibrations dressed in pink to the corporate world, and it will love me for it.
Posted by: The Bunny at August 19, 2005 12:20 AM
By age 20, the concept of what one "should be doing" has become obsolete. The sooner one can rid himself of the expectations of others, and fanciful self-inflicted pressures, the sooner he can get back to pursuing his own flavor of happiness. A happy, self-actualizing person would provide a far more rewarding friendship than a disillusioned, subservient one... and I dont wanna ever grow up.. I hate responsibility.
Posted by: term_ at August 19, 2005 01:01 AM
Jesus, how did this spark a philosophical discussion over the meaning and merits of growing up?
Posted by: Peter Ostrovski at August 19, 2005 07:35 AM
Bunquila is a mean drink. I recently took a road trip to Toronto and picked up two bottles of tequila and two four-packs of red bull at the duty free. My buddies and I had high hopes for the weekend, little did we know that this salty citrus swill would transform us into hyperactive horn balls. That weekend standards along with lamps and luggage were thrown out of hotel windows. Heed Bunny’s advice this is not a drink to fuck with.
Posted by: David at August 19, 2005 08:24 AM
You need to start commercializing Bunquila. It truly kicks ass!
Posted by: jen at August 19, 2005 09:44 AM
But Bunny, if you grow up, what will we read? Tales of small talk at the water-cooler? Moreover, what would "grown-up Bunny" put in her book? I say you stay just the way you are. Beauty, brains & Bunquila!!
Posted by: Siren at August 19, 2005 12:39 PM
You could say that Tequila and I are "broken up" but still like to have wild nights together... the times that I've had Red Bull have been times where I run around in circles, kiss my girlfriends, and jump up and down to watch my boobies shake (and all this sober)... I salute you for being brave enough to try them in tandem... You're so brave, I'd do you any day...
Posted by: A Fellow Bunny at August 19, 2005 04:13 PM
It's funny that you say you invented "Bunquila" because I clearly remeber drinking it in Stuttgart, Germany with my brother in December 2003. My brother was in Munich a month or so prior to the "encounter" we had and had asked for a vodka redbull and unfortunately/luckily they had tequila and redbull, so bottom's up later it was drunken bliss.
The effects are the same though. Certain things are said to insipid arrogant Krauts who think they're great because they work for Daimler Chrysler and drunken slanderous comments are uddered at ugly cows who try to pass for women. If you didn't get that joke then fuck off.
Posted by: Anonymous at August 20, 2005 06:27 AM
That last comment was by me tyranagrant. If you have any issues with it let me know. tyranagrant@netscape.net
Posted by: tyranagrant at August 20, 2005 07:03 AM
I keep trying to tell you people how dastardly unsexy I am. Yet, you still want the BunBun. I don’t get it.
Scootah's law of self assessment on the internet states -
The more extreme somebodies assessment of their own qualties is when reported on the internet, the more probable it is that the exact opposite of this assessment is true.
IE somebody who tells you that they're elle mcpherson, claudia schiffer and angelina joelie all wrapped up into one is probably a 5'1, 700 lb hose beast who hasn't been outside since 1997. The more somebody tells you that they're the bastard love child of Albert Einstein and Hellen Keller, the more likely it is that they're too stupid to tie their own shoes and too spineless to try bending over anyway.
The reverse also usually holds true. The more people deprieciate themselves the less likely the deprieciation is waranted.
Posted by: McWombat at August 22, 2005 01:32 PM
We all want you because you seem to be the perfect combination of fem, bull and hetro. I bet you smell heavenly while carrying large objects and beating up puppy kicking losers. I'd like to lick you all over while you tell me a story.
Posted by: wannabe bi chick at August 22, 2005 06:55 PM
You should REALLY meet tequillas best friend golden grain. The you will have much more wild stories try it and enjoy the craziness that will ensue
Posted by: Kiddo at August 22, 2005 10:43 PM
You really need to stop drinking those crap drinks. Start drinking the only Chicago drink that matters...OLD STYLE!
Posted by: Long Duck Dong at August 24, 2005 01:10 PM
Screw growing up! Responsibilities suck!
DRINKING AND DEBAUCHERY TILL YOU DIE!
it's a great ideal, but not very realistic. Would be fun though, wouldn't it?
Posted by: Lars ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.thebunnyblog.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at September 9, 2005 11:57 AM
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