...for your pleasure.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Tackling The Jolly Green Monster


It's a vast subject scattered with many nuances and land mines. Jealousy and envy are two separate monsters, but as far as The Bunny is concerned, envy is but one stunted carrot in the garden of Jealousy. Regardless! Let's take a look at both of them...

Envy is simply wanting something that someone else has. It's easy to gloss over this sh*t with a Laguna Beach style press on smile and a hollow "congratulations on your promotion."

Then there's Jealousy. Jealousy is a bitch. Jealousy typically refers to the negative thoughts and feelings of insecurity, fear, and anxiety over an anticipated loss of something. Jealousy can turn you into a crazy golf club wielding banchy (f) or into a whiny Man Baby (m). And in relationships, Jealousy is an ornery weed of destruction.

The majority of couples' fights are caused by jealousy over another woman or another man. What's tricky is that this jealousy can be founded on realistic threats, or severely delusional paranoias brought on by individual insecurities.

A) A woman with very small breasts may become jealous that her lover has a workplace acquaintance with a huge, supple rack. However, her jealousy may likely be needless if her lover has no interest in this busty colleague (but why wouldn't he, right?) And on, and on it goes.

B) A man may be jealous of his woman's ex-boyfriend because she is still in friendly contact with him. His jealousy may be unfounded if she is no longer in love with her ex, or even attracted to him.

Now let's just put it on the table - neither party is crazy for being jealous. Jealousy is a natural human reaction to that which threatens us, that which makes us feel inadequate or inferior. Knowing that men enjoy full, healthy breasts, woman A is entitled to her jealousy. Man B is also well within his rights to jealousy considering that his lady was at once attracted to her ex-man, and's not outlandish to think she may still find his characteristics attractive?

The trick is wrangling Jealousy. It's okay to feel it, but when you let it bust a nut into a full blown JEALOUS RAGE (editor's note: I have much experience on this topic) shit gets broken...neighbors get worried...perfectly great relationships are put in front of the firing squad.

Communication is key. Learning each other's hot buttons is a must. Labeling certain ex's as "off limits" may be required. Facebook flirtation must be kept to a minimum. When you feel the Jolly Green Monster blissfully creeping into your belly, try to force yourself to Stop - Pop (a pill?) - and THINK.

Should you really be jealous of a hefty, lonely Ho shamelessly hitting on your man? Probably not. Should you really be jealous that your friend is macking on that cute chick who works at the drycleaner? Maybe... because b*tch probably works her magic with the dryer on Full Tumble. In which case The Bunny says, you betta hit that.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

A Cheeky Follow Up By The Damsel in Dating Distress...

She wants to know, What's the deal with this intermediate step before dating called "Hanging Out"? She writes:
When did there become an intermediate step BEFORE dating. What the F is hanging out? If not dating? Seriously?! What's that about? Isn't hanging out what you do with people whose faces you don't want to kiss? And dating the same thing but you do [want to kiss]? Man I'm such a girlfriend-girl I hate the dating scene...

 Now that's a rant! Luvz It!
She's right. It's kind of bizarre, no? Or maybe it's not. Sometimes The Bunny doesn't know what's what in this batshit crazy world, so she took to the streets and asked a Cheeky pal. He offers these opinions from a male perspective:
He prefers to move the relationship at a slower pace than girls.

He prefers to keep his options open, i.e. see what other girls are available.

He may like to keep the girl uncertain, therefore holding some sort of power over her.

He doesn't want to be labeled as “tied down” and “whipped” by his friends.
Now before y'all Cheeky Ladies go on a bitch-slap tirade against this guy, consider his final thought:
Also, I believe a female would more interested in a man who is a bit of a challenge rather than someone who is too quick to commit, falls in love too easily, is too suffocating and too accommodating. Isn’t that why girls like the bad boys? 

Now, here's The Bunny's own personal opinion, Damsel D -

...You're right. "Hanging Out" between two people can be annoying. It's kind of like a "Promise Ring." {{i.e. a teenage trick spends all her free time acting as arm candy for a seemingly interested Hare. Their anniversary comes and he gets down on one paw - that magic moment. But instead of a real rock, he produces a $4.99 plastic Promise Ring from Shaws and shoots her the eyebrows to hit the hay in the dirtiest way. "Bitch, Please."}}

But, always inclined to admit personal fault, The Bunny's gotsta say - she's guilty of it. To me, "Hanging Out" seems to manifest between two people when one party (or sometimes both) are interested in each other, but there is some pressing issue preventing them from officially declaring to the public that they are in fact dating. (ex. One or both parties are fresh from a breakup, and don't want to be seen as "rebound-desperate," one or both parties are unsure if the other one is interested in them. In which case shit needs to be put on the table, either verbally ["I like ya!"] or physically [HEH! Use your imaginations] <--- my advice to you!)

The "Hanging Out" is a buffer zone. Since we're living in a time of immense opportunity and a tizzy of choice, the rules have changed. And yeah, is it lame that we need a "test zone" (Hanging Out) before what should be the basic "test zone" (Dating)? Yep. It is. But what it comes down to is that many are simply inclined to test the water  for as long as possible by getting to know one another in the most non-formal way possible. Flowers aren't required. Kissing isn't required. But if it happens? Great (at least that's the idea).

The problem is, this can make testing of some extremely dirty water.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Irrational Pet Peeves of the Week

People who can never seem to understand what I'm saying, despite the clarity of my annunciation and pitch of my voice. They say "What..?" What...?" In the end I end up raising my voice at them in a twister of frustration and effort. Or I stop talking. Either way I look like an a$$hole.

People whose vision is based on movement. (i.e. I think to myself, "If I sit very still they won't bother me with mind numbing bull$hitting and lame jokes." It usually works.)

When "Fast Food" is extremely slow. And I'm staring at my medium french fry sitting under the lights, then glaring at the dumbfounded incompetent counter person, then staring intently, again, at the medium french fry, then sighing dramatically and moving around a lot in the hopes that their vision is based on movement.

When people criticize me for not watching skanky, pointless, boring "hit" shows. Really? Has-Beens are dancing and I missed it?

Man Babies

Monday, April 19, 2010

When People Know They're Attractive

...shit can go bad.


tend to capitolize on it. However, the perks of beauty come with a price. Namely - dependency and expectations. If women are used to getting their way based on their level of attractiveness, they tend to need constant reassurance. And what's worse, when things don't go their (our?) way, they (we??) become certifiably bitch-slap crazy. ie. "What, is she prettier than me?!?" They also tend to be fairly promiscuous, simply because they can be - with very little judgement.


tend to be more unsure of their physical attraction. Handsome men don't get quite the same reassurance of their physical attractiveness in comparison to women. For instance, men tend to verbalize to women how beautiful they are - women don't usually give that to men. Women are more subtle, more calculated. They perfect their poker faces. They play more games. But a beautiful man, if he is in that stellar category of tall, gorgeous and fit and they're aware of it (i.e. a model, actor, playboy) he tends to be slightly promiscuous - just because he can be. A beautiful man is far more rare, and far less dangerous, than a very beautiful woman.

All in all, an attractive person is not meant to be a threat, but rather, a challenge. Common sense, right? But the challenge comes not in the pursuit or attainment of these gorgeous beings, but rather in tolerating their obtuse egos and constant need for reassurance and appreciation as their looks fade. A key point in being involved with a "9" or a "10" is that these people tend not to be good in bed (because they never needed to be) and tend not to have very strong characters (because they never had to develop one). The fact is that the vast majority tend to be spoiled and self centered, because they've always been spoiled and the center of attention due to their appearance. This doesn't make them bad people - but simply shockingly difficult people to endure for more than a few nights of hot, heavy sex.

Like anything in life - the trick is finding balance. Finding a person with 'ugly duck syndrome' (i.e. an attractive person who developed late and therefore did not come to realize their level of atractiveness until their late teens or early 20's. That's striking gold, right there). Or, it's simply a matter of expectation. Don't expect everything from every person. Be willing to take the good with the bad.

Because, as the old cliche goes - beauty fades....but the douchebag inside is there for good.

Do Women Really Just Want To Be Rescued?

...for the boys.

This topic is taken from SATC - so I take no credit. But the question still looms. Do women really just want to be rescued?

It's a subject that should interest men as well as modern day women. This post, like many of the Bunny's insights on life, is an editorial opinion. I claim no expertise, save for that of a Bunny with big eyes and bigger ears. And my experience to date? ... Yes. Ladies do, at their core, in their heart of hearts, want a knight in shining armor. But, and here's the annoying kicker, we don't really need one.

Women tend to want what they need, and need what they want. As stubborn as a young, independent woman may seem, it's important to remember the element of pride effects females as much as it does males. If a man is able to gently coax us out of the mindset that we are our own superhero, that we can climb from the tower window with the help of our own long braid, we will surrender to this urge if only for a moment. It is in these small doses of helplessness that we find our purest femininity, our sexual submissions.

But, as with anything in this world of choice and freedom, we don't want to make a habit of it.

So, my male Cheeky readers, the Bunny's advice to you is this - if ever you suspect she wants you to step up and lend a helping hand, if ever you find yourself tempted to knock someone out in her honor, or offer her a warm but firm chest for her head to rest, please don't hesitate. She will squirm for it, she will bask in it, and she will never, ever let you remind her that she needed to be rescued.

Damsel D's Dilema: Dating, or Just a Friend?

Damsel D tells me she once had a male friend ask her, 
"How can you tell if you're dating someone?"  Her advice to him was this: "If you kiss her goodnight, you're dating. Other than that you're just friends." This seemed obvious to D until the following event presented iteself in her personal life:

 I started seeing a very nice guy. Busy schedules led to poor scheduling and thus a month of emails and finally, to three fabulous dates in three weeks. (With brief run ins at the water cooler, school seminars, etc. in between). We send random text messages just to say hi when we don't see each other in passing. I've been to his place to make dinner together and watch movies. All seemingly normal right.
NO kiss goodnight. Not even a peck on the cheek! A hug, a gentlemanly walk to my car so I don't get shanked in the dark. But not so much as an arm around me while we sit snuggled on the couch. I think shoulders and kneecaps maybe brushed into each other, that's about it. Now, I'm no hussy but I know how to eyes and casual comments as well as the next classy lassy, so I don't think it's a lack of knowing if I'm interested... Now maybe it's because I don't have a ton of close guy pals, but I have to wonder "Super shy? or did I just make a new friend?" Old school Great Gatsby romance or someone to watch the game with? 
Well Little D, it seems that you are treading water in the dreaded Silver Sea, a gray area so foggy you need a lighthouse fueled by a million Cheeky Bunnies running in wheels to see where you’re going. But in this Bunny’s opinion, you're headed towards romance.

Here’s why.

Assuming this guy is around your age (mid twenties for you Cheeky Readers)  let's also assume he’s developed the same relationship survival strategies as most other 20 something men we’ve come across – he’s waiting for you to make the first move.

Now, Damsel D, know that the Cheeky Bunny has a lot of experience with making the first move. In fact, every major relationship she’s had has sprouted from her initiations. I could blab a little about how gender roles have evolved in the past couple decades, but we're not in Women's Studies 201 so let me get to some valuable tips.

* Understand your feelings towards him: I'm wondering, are you crushing on him? Or is the mystery surounding his ambiguous feelings for you acting as an aphrodisiac? If you knew for sure he was interested in you romantically, would you want to move forward? Or would you be satisfied that you 'figured him out' and then, lose interest?

* If you come to the conclusion that you have feelings for him, let him know it: This can be accomplished with the standard ladylike flirtations. Now, you seem familiar with the skills of seduction - the fluttery lashes, the grazing of arms. BUT, the thing is, this bloak may require a little more direction. You may have to flat out go for it - Kiss him.

* After the kiss: First off, D, enjoy it. It should feel nice, exciting. By the way, the odds are he will kiss you back. I mean, you're already on his couch, and there's no denying you're super cute, so going on these facts...yeah...he'll kiss you back. I'd bet my bottom carrot on it.  BUT (there's always a but in these gray areas) prepare yourself for possible awkwardness afterwards. He might just not be skilled at handling these initial landmarks of affection.

* Give it a second try: This is assuming there is in fact awkwardness after the first kiss(es). The transition from plutonic to romantic is always a gamble. If he seems standoffish don't be discouraged. I tell you this *because* he's been texting you, *because* he's invited you to his place to cook and watch a film. If he hadn't opened these doors, and you kissed him, and he was standoffish I'd say let it go, but this isn't the case. I am confident that if things seems a little unsure after the first time around, the they will feel a little more solid and comfortable the second time around. After that, if he still doesn't pull it together and give you the effort you deserve, let it go.

* (Note: This is the Cheekiest step) Withhold sex: Not in a mind-game way - but in a "it's for your own good" sort of way. Sex muddles the waters even more in a gray area. Don't proceed with further intimacy until you sense, without a doubt, that he has these romantic feelings for you. That would take us into a completely different Cheeky topic. 

But, as always, if you find yourself in that situation - the Bunny is all ears.

Some Cheeky Opinions at 2 a.m.

Stop pontificating about life, start living it. Then you can do both!

Start fixing your problems, instead of running away from them.

Stop deflecting blame.

Start drinking more water.

If you want to be a poet, stop quoting poems, and start writing them.

If you want a better job, send out your resume.

If you start feeling bad for yourself, be grateful you have legs. If you don't have legs, be grateful you have air in your lungs. You'll be that much happier.

When Flight Trumps Fight...

Hi. So, speaking from the perspective of an actual Bunny, I can tell you - running away when startled is an alluring temptation. But, the thing is, if we're all just running away when the going gets tough, when we're challenged, we'd all just be running into each other. This doesn't make for progress.

It makes for a bunch of whiny bitches colliding into each other, then complaining about life.

As of lately, the Bunny has noticed certain aquaintances have a tendency to overly indulge in their right of Flight, and ignore the option of actually Fighting for a cause, or even...dare I say it...standing their ground. Admittedly, it's sometimes easier to slink out in the night and leave others behind. Problem is, they're waking up to find a mess they didn't make. And if they don't clean it up in your absence...who will?

...Ya know?

Individuals from all walks of life are guilty of this, but some more than others. The trouble is that trouble exists in any state, any continent, any hemisphere. The point is, that life, and all its difficulties, tend to follow. What makes facing these inevitable obstacles possible is the character you build while facing them. Or as the Bunny likes to call it, stepping the f*ck up.

Now, I have no place to tell y'all Cheeky readers what to do, or how to tackle the tests of love, work, relationships, family, friendships. But since I have nothing but Bunny Love for you, I feel a nagging obligation to let you in on a little secret - once you fix yourself, once you bear difficult burdens head on, feel the grit of it, you will find the need to Flee diminishes. And then you can plant your feet into whatever Earth surrounds you, and stand a little taller.

Here's to toughening up. Here's to not running away from problems. Here's to owning up to your responsibilities, and swallowing your pride every now and then. Here's to admiting defeat and acknowledging it when you're in the wrong.

Here's to fighting the need to head for the hills when the flood waters rise, but rather building yourself one hell of a boat...and in some cases...not being afraid to swim.

Friday, April 16, 2010

The New York City Career Woman: Powerhouse Edition

Lately I've widened my eyes a little to a certain kind of female:  The New York City Career Woman Powerhouse, because if you look around, you too will see that they're multiplying like randy, Cheeky Bunnies.

She's an extreme version of the dream that feminism envisioned, but never thought possible.

This woman has exchanged a princess solitaire on her ring finger for a multi-diamond band on her middle finger. She worries about her 401K, making payments on her penthouse, her figure, her schedule.

She's determined to make a point.

She's lunching. She's proving herself, convincing herself, finding balance between maternity and fraternity, and touching-up her chipped nail polish in a cab. She’s rushing to elevators, and smiling less and less. She’s grateful her Blackberry vibrates. She’s organizing meetings and making rain checks on a pedicure, on motherhood, and long weekends. She’s shooting dirty looks at the pretty female interns, and grazing the thighs of handsome male ones. Love is not her priority. She is tragedy in training.

This bunny is at an age of choice. Some options are overwhelming. Many are appealing - and this has it's perks, sure. But I'm becoming uneasy. After 25 years, the Bunny may not yet know exactly what she is - but she's starting to see what she isn't...and hopefully...never could be.

And hey - to each their own. Some thrive on breathing all their life into a job, into money, into prestige. And this future's starting to look like a goal for many young city Bunnies

In trying to find my path in this metropolitan garden, I can see the end point to this powerhouse career path, and - for me at least - it involves an extra strong martini...

... and a Blackberry with an epic VIBRATE setting, you know, for those late, lonely nights at the office.

Some Quips on Booze for your Weekend

“Give me a woman who loves beer and I will conquer the world” – Kaiser Wilheim

“Work is the curse of the drinking Class” -Oscar Wilde, an Irishman after my own heart.

“I decided to stop drinking with creeps. I decided to drink only with friends. I’ve lost 30 pounds” – Ernest Hemingway

Imbibe in moderation and keep the bitch slaps to a minimum my friends!
Penny Rose

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Cheeky Reflections on 40 Days of Sobriety (...kinda)

I'm not particularly religious. Regardless, I gave up the booze for Lent, because I'm no sinner (...!?). So after a particularly harrowing 8 hour happy hour night, I took on the challenge. And so now I will share my experience with all y'all Cheeky readers.

It just so happens that Esquire magazine - my favorite - had the same idea. Their March 2010 issue featured a collaborative piece entitled “Doing Without.”

They write:
"As an experiment in necessity, we asked writers to sacrifice something they depend on, something ingrained in and important to their lives, (BOOZE) for one month: long enough to feel its absence and to have to adapt to life without it.”

I was thrilled to see, 20 days into my dry spell, that Esquire assigned their writer, David Granger, to quit drinking for one month. David and I had a lot of the same experience. However, he concludes:
“As much as anything, the month teaches you that not drinking is an option. Just not an option that you will choose all that often."
After giving up heaven's sweet, sweet nectar for 40 days (okay, I cheated just once or twice), I have to say I disagree with David on that one. I now feel less inclined than ever to drink. Here’s why.

Pros of not drinking
*I saved hundreds. Hundreds.
*I made less of an ass of myself, in general
*I was more active and physically fit
*I slept better
*My life was more organized
*I was more focused and motivated
*I ate healthier
*I learned how to have fun without drinking, even on a Saturday night!
*I was able to keep my emotions in check

Cons of not drinking
*I didn’t socialize as much
*I somehow did not lose any weight
*I missed out on champagne on my 25th birthday
*I now have absolutely zero tolerance
*I spent more money on the giggly stuff

David agrees:
“Overall, the first eleven days are the worst…it’s all downside, no benefit. You don’t need a drink, but you also don’t see any real reason not to drink. But as the days crawl toward the halfway point you begin to see some upside…You work out harder—and feel better afterward. You sleep more, not less….The suprising thing is that you don’t lose any weight…Your mood Is better; you feel more optimistic”
So my Cheeky Advice to you - give it a whirl. Why not? All in's kind of impressive. People will be charmed by your self discipline, enchanted by the mystery behind it, and challenged to shove the cork back into the bottle of Yellow Tail tucked under their night stand (was I the only one?).

That being said - I'm off to the Sweet Afton speakeasy for a cucumber-melon martini with my Cheeky girl friend to cocktail with class.

Enjoy your Saturday night... in moderation.

Pshhhhhhhhhst Penny Rose!~

Friday, April 9, 2010

E.D: Nature's Way of Saying "Maybe, Don't Go There."

So Cialis has made a habit of featuring 50+ year-old couples sitting in antique bathtubs by the water. First off, look at those things: 20 year-olds couldn't pull off intercourse in there, let alone these salt and peppered retirees.

I mean. sure, this flacid PawPaw's heart is in the right place - we just don't want it to end up on the operating table, staring cock-eyed into a surgeons blade after suffering a reverse-cowgirl in a bathtub induced coronary. All I'm saying is maybe Erectile Dysfunction is just nature's way of saying, "Hey buddy, you're too old to fuck."

But I'll probably amend this opinion the day I move on from the hot, young studs and finally marry old and rich (HEH!).


My Likes:

OMG Aidan!?!? Will he get his spiteful revenge on Big for screwing Carrie behind his back years ago? And why does he look so fine? (Men really do age like a fine wine)

I was wondering where SATC could go after the first film. In 2008, everything ended on an unrealistically perfect note. I’m loving the new conflicts (Charlotte’s getting a taste of dealing with two chilluns, Carrie is *obviously* bored with married life, because that’s the type of character she’s always been).

“We made a deal years ago, men, babies, it doesn’t matter – we’re soul mates” ** I’m tearin’ up already **

The Alicia Keys title track - great choice.

These ladies are ageless (granted, a lot of lighting, makeup, botox, surgery and styling are to thanks) and they all look gorgeous.

My Dislikes:

Abu Dhabi? Why are they in the United Arab Emirates, of all places? It’s like Season 3, "Sex In Another City," except way more silly.

Carrie loves Big. Fact. My guess is – there’s no way she’d sleep with Aidan after spending ten years toiling to nab the love of her life.

Samantha has made absolutely no progress. She’s still sleeping with young, hot guys? It’s not believable. Her character needs some kind of arc.

Psh – okay, like she’d really bump into Aidain in Abu Dhabi

Charlotte is wicked domestic. She’d never (especially in her early 40s, after 20 years of single girl life is out of her system) get annoyed with having a full time family life. After all those fertility treatments? NOPE!

Disliking the fashions. Shoulder pad spikes? Ugly.

How did Miranda do such a 180? I liked her all frumpy and cynical a la seasons 1-5. What - did motherhood make her less cynical and more fashionable or something?

That being said - where’s mah bitches (and gay boyfriends) at? Are we hittin’ the NYC bars then the NYC AMC then the NYC bars on May 27th? Clear your calenders.

Mary Taylor is on Her Way to New York...To Visit Her Daughter...

Alright. This is an official Cheeky Bunny rant. The incident in question actually took place a few days ago, but in all honestly it's a good thing I didn't strike while the iron was hot and blog about it immediately after because this post would pass beyond "Cheeky" and fly straight into the face of "Belligerently Bullshit."

So ... did you know Mary Taylor from Framingham was on her way to New York City to visit her daughter who is buying a co-op in Brooklyn?

What?...You haven't heard that news?

Well, you're in the dark, because the entire f*cking 9:30 am Bolt bus from Boston to New York on April 7th has all the damn details. You know why? Because bitch was on her damn cell phone for four straight hours.

A) Bitch was yapping loudly in a high pitched voice, tediously drawing out her syllables (ie. "Bethany? Hiiiii... It's Maryyy Tayyyylor. From Framinghaaammm. I'm on the bus. On my way to New York City to visit my daughter!!!....")

B) Bitch had an open phone book on her lap.

C) Bitch triggered a side kick to snap into action - also known as "Lloyd...the writer." After about an hour of Mary's inconsideration, Lloyd felt quite at home flipping open his cell phone and calling every douche bag in his rolodex.

D) Bitch was super sweet and friendly, thereby making it impossible for me to bitch-slap her. Bitch even called her church pastor to shoot the shit! Tie up some Sunday School Bake Sale details.

E) Bitch was in utter ignorance of the fact that the rest of the bus was sitting in perfect silence, held hostage by her relentless thoughtlessness. (HOW COULD SHE NOT KNOW?!)

So here's what's up. Social etiquette. Look it up. Google that shit, while you're online. Oh, wait! Turns out most people who pull shit like this are past the age of 45. Ever notice that? So they probably don't even google. That explains why Mary Taylor was using her pointer finger to slowly dial each digit of her Motorolla flip phone -- she's knew to this amazing technology that allows you to contact anyone, at anytime, from anywhere!

Except the bus, bitch!

(Editor's Note. I was also horrified to turn and see that Lloyd was in fact about 80 years old... with the voice of a 30 year old. He looked like THIS Fer serious.)

Attention Mary, Lloyd and all their contemporaries: Just because you can, doesn't mean you should. Every fiber of my being had to fight the urge to scream "SHUT-UP, SHUT-UP, FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST WON'T YOU PLEASE JUST SHUT THE F*CK UP!?" -- but then I'd be the crazy loud bitch, not Mary (a.k.a, Norman Bates in a very bad wig).

 ....Have a fluffy weekend!

Some Cheeky Advice: Cutting-Off An Ex

A Cheeky reader wrote in desperately seeking some guidance regarding an ex-boyfriend. The situation is, in a nutshell, complicated...but here at The Cheeky Bunny, complications are no stranger.

Anyway, hopping along. She has been heartbroken by this Ex time and time again, over a period of many years. He has repeatedly rejected her love, left her for other women...and always has come crawling back. For years it's been a vicous cycle of masochistic loyalty, co-dependency and soft heartedness. After leaving her for another woman only a year ago, my Cheeky gal pal's Ex is once again creeping back into her life via phone calls and notes sent to her P.O. Box. She takes his calls, reads his notes, eagerly lapping up his complaints about his new beau. The problem is, he's stringing her along again. Because while he is dissing his current lady to my pal, he continues to be spotted out on the town with her, apparently happy, functioning. And it doesn't help that he lives with his new girlfriend. To you and I, all signs point to "he's not leaving her" - but try telling that to my Cheeky chum.

She writes:

"I guess Listening to all his complaints and sending me this lovely card makes me wonder just how  much in misery he is in! Maybe he did not  want to spend Easter alone [and that's why he took her out to dinner]. I can do nothing about that  He called me on Saturday night....Talking to him has caused me to miss him and think too much!!  I need some advice from the Cheeky Bunny."

Oh, dear. This Bunny can relate.

But if I can share one simple sliver of advice to you - cut him off.

This pattern has proven itself time and time again. As much as I know your heart longs for him to change, your head must know that he will not change into the man you need him to be. It's important in life to balance the demands of your heart and your head...and in this case...your head should hold the upper hand.

The best way to stop feeling conflicted, to avoid daily bursts of tears and jealousy, is to simply cut him off. Don't take his calls. Don't read his letters. If these communications hold any promise indicating that he is going to devote himself to you for the rest of forever...he would devote himself to you for the rest of forever. His actions don't follow his words. And actions, as trite as it may be, do speak louder than words.

It's best to block him from your thoughts. The best way to accomplish this is to stop dragging it out. It's over. Enough of his empty, implied promises. He lost you (and it really is his loss). Let him deal with it. And don't do it with the mind-set of 'game playing,' do it fer realz.

By removing him from your life, by redirecting the energy you would have spent coddling him, you will find time to heal yourself - to imrpove a new life that doesn't include him. It may cause you sharp, temporary pain - but trust me when I tell you it's better than enduring long, tedious, drawn out and dull pain for years to come.

Because you don't deserve that.

Best wishes,

Penny Rose

Friday, April 2, 2010

Lessons From The Easter Bunny

As a Cheeky Bunny, I've gotten into my fair share of conundrums. So I've had to call my friend the Easter Bunny to help me out when I'm at my lowest i.e.when I need someone to bail me out of jail when I'm rotting there barefoot at 4 a.m. for an HUI (Hopping Under the Influence).

And he's taught me some valuable lessons. As an Easter gift, I offer them to you Cheeky Readers:

Don't put all your eggs in one basket.

Everyone needs a friend who is all ears.

There's no such thing as too much candy.

All work and no play can make you a basket case.

A cute tail attracts a lot of attention.

Everyone is entitled to a bad hare day.

Let happy thoughts multiply like rabbits.

Some body parts should be floppy.

Good things come in small, sugar coated packages.

The grass is always greener in someone else's basket.

The best things in life are still sweet and gooey.

Enjoy the Holiday!

Shape Shifters.

A chameleon blends into their surroundings when it suits them. It is a creature you can never really know. And it is this Bunny’s belief that chameleons, in fact, do not know themselves. They are shape shifters, fair weather friends. They come and go as they please, creeping away with their distinctive, swaying gait.

See, a bunny is a bunny…is a bunny. We are loving and loved and always white and fluffy. We do not skulk. We run away when we’re scared, sure, but it is because we are delicate and vulnerable. But we are what we say we are.

So Penny Rose can’t quite relate to creatures of elusive identities. Further more, she can’t help but feel hurt when a creature, regardless of how scaly and cold, lives by a code of deceit. Especially when they color themselves with shades of Love, adapting to the unconditional affection that’s surrounded them… only to return to the dull shades of gray they were born with. Spontaneously.

Nothing has startled this Bunny more…than a chameleon.

But a valuable lesson taken from this kind of betrayal: warm blooded creatures and cold blooded creatures…certainly do not mix.

Thursday, April 1, 2010


One of the reasons this Bunny so loves working in the news business is when she hops across a little gem of a headline, like this: Easter Bunny roughed up outside NY sweet shop

Police say a woman dressed as the Easter Bunny to promote a Hudson Valley candy shop was slammed to the ground by a man who then ran away. The 46-year-old woman, who was dressed in a white bunny costume, was not seriously hurt in the attack around 5 p.m. Wednesday outside the Alps Sweet Shoppe on Main Street in the village of Fishkill.

The suspect was described as about 17 years old with blonde hair, wearing blue jeans, a white T-shirt and a green zippered sweat shirt.
So, my theory is as follows: A 17 year-old Man Baby finally figured out there was no such thing as The Easter Bunny, and so he felt the need to deliver a beat-down to a friendly do-gooder who only wanted to keep the dream alive.

The victim, at happier times.

Hope you're satisfied with yourself, ya jerk. And you better hope The Cheeky Bunny doesn't hunt you down and put one of her unpedicured talons up your ass -  "Happy Easter, Bitch!"