Happy Anniversary Bitches!

ONE whole week since I decided to start writing a blog. One. And I have to say that I've learned a lot, though I still can't upload videos (damn you youtube) and I've received a lot of critique and compliments, and to those faithful few who have been reading, thank you.

It's been a hell of a week. I know each one of you reading is doing the black girl "uuuuuhhh-huuuuun" and I'm about burned out. But then I remembered it's Thursday. And its cinco de mayo. And you know what that means??? No! Not margaritas, you drunks. It's Lagerfeld Thursday!! You need to say that loudly - almost as a scream to get the full effect.

Baby boys and baby girls, Karl is a busy man. One day in Paris, the next in NYC. He flits all around the world being fabulous and wearing the tightest pants imaginable. And he wore those pants this week to the Met Costume Gala. Now, while there have been a couple requests to comment on the blog regarding all the dresses, I really was bored with the event. I bet even Anna herself was commenting on how boring and safe everyone played the event and she'll probably have them all killed cause that's how Anna rolls y'all. I mean, HELLO! Its the damn Costume Gala. You are supposed to dress up and be amazing. The only one who actually gave a damn was sweet lil Christina Ricci - look it up, I'm to tired to post - and my MAN, Karl. Oh and that thing on his arm with the red hair....well let's just pretend that's me.

Ok Blake. I'll give it to you. That dress makes me die. Like, I died so hard they had to hunt me down, shoot me in the head, and bury me at sea, died*. Bitch looks good and she knows it. The red hair actually works for her and not many people can pull that off. But we've gotten off track.

BACK TO KARL! So, as I was saying before Blake's ass rudely interrupted me, Karl has been a busy lady. Most of you will remember my obsession last May when I wandered the streets of Paris for him, not to turn up one shred of the silver fox only to come back home to see that he is designing Diet Coke bottles and they were all over Paris.

First thing first, Karl credits the uh... diet "coke" for his 80lbs weight loss. He only ate chicken, fish and diet coke. And lets not think I didn't try to do the same thing. But about 72 hours in I was a bitchy mess. Screaming, hollering at people - more than usual. I was so hopped up on sugar that I almost designed a dress or two. Sadly, it just didn't work for me...as my bitchy ways were too much (apparently I'm already a huge bitch) and people threatened to throw me off the roof. Or roofie me. i was reallly out of it. Either way....

My boyfriend is back...and you bitches are going to be in a lot of trouble if I don't get one of these bottles. I neeeeeeeeeed Karl. And I neeeeeeed that bottle. And there might be a "reward" of some sort to the first one that finds it for me.

So the hunt is on. Don't make me have to go back on the Uncle Karl died, cause I swear it will be worse this time around.

Kisses all around,

Bunny

XO

*From Poodle, who continues to make me dead.