B.B.R.E.A.M

Bunny Butts Rule Everything Around Me

BBREAM is gunna be my club.

Bunny butts rule everything around me BBREAM! Bunny bunny bun, y'all.

If you don't understand what I'm saying, please pay attention:

So as I'm sure you can guess I'm going to talk about rabbits.  As stated last post, Blizzard died.  So it seems that one of my New Years Resolutions failed.  Good going Kim.  Blizzard was creamated, he just got back yesterday.  His ashes are in a beautiful craved oak wood box.  That I will show you on a later date.

I also bought an urn necklace.  I'm not even sure how I knew urn necklaces existed, but I got one.  It's silver, the most expensive piece of jewelry I've ever bought myself.  A little lop bunny.

If you look closely you can see "Blizz" engraved on the foot.

This is a letter we got in the mail from Burlington Emergency Vets.

This is a letter my veterinarian, Orachard, sent me.  They got the variousl people who work there who signed the card as well.  They all loved Blizzard.  c:

This is Leopold Stokowski and myself.  He is so big huh?

Thunder doesn't like to eat dinner by himself, so I always have to move his food in to the bed room so he can eat with the bun buns!

I gave myself grey hair, I was trying to make it about Blizzard's color.  What do you think?  Cute or creepy?

Look at these comfy ass rabbits, just lounging.  Leopold Stokowski and Penelope are two bonded rabbits I rescued from the Humane Society, Thunder is happy to have friends again and these guys (as you can see) are adjusting well to their new home.

Thunder thinks he is a rabbit though....  These two buns were in the shelter since January and no one thought they'd get adopted!  Well, they did.  :)  They aren't super comfortable with me yet but Leo tooth purrs sometimes.  :3  Penelope hates my guys though and I'm sure she is plotting my death.  I'll win her over though, because I am the Bringer of Lettuce And Other Greens.

Last but not least, bunny butts!!!

Killing Time

Who has never killed an hour? Not casually or without thought, but carefully: a premeditated murder of minutes. The violence comes from a combination of giving up, not caring, and a resignation that getting past it is all you can hope to accomplish.







These are not my words.

My Sweet Prince

His full name was Prince Blizzard Lapin Bin Bin, he was born May 25, 2012 in Essex, Vermont. He died March 10th, 2013 in Burlington, Vermont. He was my baby boy. He was going to play with my children when I had them and he was going to be the ring bearer at my wedding. I love him.


At around 1:30am, Sunday morning, I was getting ready for bed. Like every night, I went to round up Blizzard to put him in his cage. He is a free range bunny who only is locked in his cage at night when I can't keep an eye or ear out for him. Blizzard was sitting behind the futon and when I picked him up he put up no fight at all. I also noticed he didn't eat his lettuce and carrots I had left out for him. I immediately got very worried and asked Buzz if we should go to the Emergency Vet. Buzz suggested maybe we wait until Monday morning to see how things go, but I was too panicky. We took a taxi to the Emergency Vet at around 2am and Blizzard was so cuddley. He nipped my arm at one point and pawed my arm, so I cuddled him and he was better. When they took his temperature, he was 105.7 degrees. As he and I cuddled he looked up at me and gave me kisses on my cheek. Blizzard never gives me kisses. Ever. As much as I enjoyed and was ecstatic to have him show me affection, he wasn't acting himself and I want him to go back to being the little rebellious punk who likes to be alone and only comes over if he wants something from you.

The vet inspected him and found nothing wrong. I thought he had compacted bowels but the vet said she could not feel any. She didn't seem very worried and gave us some antibiotics to give him for his very high fever. She also gave us Critical Care to give him. While she explained the directions for the medicine, Blizzard let me hold him in my arms and he rested his chin on my shoulder.

When we were leaving I had bank problems and had difficulties paying, Blizzard was in his carrier and I was fumbling with TD Bank to transfer funds into my Checking account. We took the taxi home and got in the door. Thunder came up to greet us as he always does, so I unzipped Blizzard's carrier so he could say hello to Thunder. But Blizzard was on his side with his eyes open.


I don't remember what happened exactly after, but Buzz tells me I immediately started screaming for Blizzard to wake up and that I love him. I called the Emergency Vet again and they said maybe if I brought him back in they could try to do something. So I called the taxi again. I went outside with my dead son, Blizzard, in my arms and sat on the ground crying with Buzz very loudly. It was about 4am by then.

I must have not made any sense to the taxi people on the phone because a taxi never came and eventually we went back inside.

I put Blizzard in a basket and we petted him until his feet turned cold and body got stiff. Thunder smelled him and tried to wrestle with him, he kept trying to play with Blizzard's body that we had to put Blizzard in the closet while Buzz and I tried to get some rest at 6am. Buzz went to work for me that morning and I tossed and turned in and out of sleep until Noon.

Buzz came home from work and we made cinnamon rolls, they didn't taste as good as I hoped they would. We had to figure out what to do with Blizzards body quickly before he started to smell or decompose. I decided that I wanted him cremated instead of buried and Buzz agreed to this.

We looked on the Internet for the best place to get him cremated and since they were all far away and we have no vehicle, I called the Emergency Vet and asked them if they knew of any places around Burlington. They said they can take Blizzard to get cremated through a place in New Hampshire called Forest Lake. The ashes come in a wooden box that has flowers engraved on it. I also plan to get a small rabbit urn necklace so I can keep some of him with me always.


He was not even 10 months old yet, he was a baby. My baby. Thunder is a cat, and he is a pet. But Blizzard was my baby. My son. I loved him so much. All of my time was dedicated to him. I was so cautious of his health needs but he died. I have rushed him to the vets a few times and they always said he was just fine. He didn't even show any signs until that night! Hours before his death. What was I supposed to do? I don't even know what he died from, I don't know what I did wrong. I thought I was so cautious with him. I bunny proofed our apartment the best I could but he may have had access to a few uncovered cords. Maybe it was the cat litter he liked to hang out in. Maybe in was Thunder playing to rough with him. Maybe I was too lazy about his safety, but I really thought I did my best. I played with him everyday. I gave him love and cheek rubs whenever he was near. I take a million photos of him and videos and he's all I talk about.

Despite this, he is dead and I don't know what to do with myself. I have so much time that was once spent being a bunny slave that I have nothing to do with. Buzz and I spent all of Sunday crying and today I only cried a little at work. The apartment feels horrible and cold and we haven't touched any of the bunny toys.

One good thing, to leave this on a positive note, I have always been afraid maybe Blizzard didn't like me. He was never affectionate and I could pet him for hours and he wouldn't give me the smallest kiss. He never laid down besides me, he'd only lay with Thunder. He was always to himself under the futon or the bed unless he wanted to be petted or fed. I have gotten depressed many times worried that he does not like me. But, before his death he cuddled with me and kissed me and was so affectionate that I now know he did love me.



"Good night sweet prince: And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!" - Hamlet, Act 5 Scene 2


Sorry for the shirtlessness in the following photos, but these are the last photos taken of Blizzard, on Friday March 8th.  I was getting ready to shower and I found Blizzard was more inclined to make contact with me when I wasn't wearing a shirt.  He must have liked my skin.

This was on Thursday when Blizzard and I sat around eating Kiwi.

This is Thunder saying goodbye to a dead Blizzard.

Before we took Blizzard to be cremated this was the last photos I took of him.

Rest in peace, my love.

The Story Of My How I Became A Punk Rocker And Got Tattoos

Since birth I have been a punk rocker at heart.  The punk just flows through me like... blood.  Hardcore punk blood.  So eventually I had to express my punk rock-ness.  I had to express myself.  Because I am an individual  and the whole fucking world better see how individualistic I am.

So I at 14 I wore my hair in my face, I wore black spiked leather bracelets and wrote all over my arms with Sharpie.  I wrote song lyrics   Really cool song lyrics.  In this photo I have "I got a broken face" written on my arm.  It's a lyric from Pixies, they are a really punk rock band.

So, since I was writing lyrics all over me, I got really into music.  Music was the only thing that understood my complexly angsty 14 year old mind.  So I picked up a bass guitar, because I am a chick.  And my name is Kim.  Like Kim Deal and Kim Gordon.  This really helped express my individuality.

   

So once I was a bassist, I became really cool.  I had to up my punk rock-ness to balance out how cool I was.  So I started smoking at the punk rock age of 14.  I also wore really hardcore brown sweaters.

After smoking I started hanging out with a rough crowd.  Like Darth Vader.  As you can see, Vader and I were pretty punk rock with our death grips.

I started getting red streaks in my hair.  Like the red hardcore punk blood I was talking about earlier.  

When I turned 18 I was finally free from the fascist oppression of being a minor.  With my new found freedom I thought I'd do something really meaningful.  I got a tattoo.  A tattoo of a really punk rock bunny.

After my rabbit tattoo was so punk rock I wanted to get another tat because I just love getting needles of ink put in my skin.  It's really hardcore.  I got a really impressive original tattoo of a music note over my heart.  Or should I say, "The place where I would have a heart but I don't because I am punk rock."

Once I was all tatted up I had no regard for authority figures like the tyrant I call "Mom."  I showed off my contempt for The Man by sitting on my "Mother" and smoking punk rock cigarettes.

I also read really hardcore comic books.  Look at how fucking punk rock I am.

Seriously though.  I'm, like, Sid Vicious.  

Pretty soon I was so hardcore I had to drill holes in my body.  So I got a dermal to represent the holes society drills in me everyday.

When holes in my chest got passe (like everything else in the whole fucking stupid lame world) I got more ink.  I got a really bad ass tat of my dead cat.  Dead cats are punk rock.  I also got a hardcore tattoo of Winnie the Pooh on my other arm to express my unique Pooh-views on life in a really creative and artistic way.

After I ripped my dermal in my chest out because I was feeling really violent and anarchy, I got a chest piece.  It says "Protege~Moi De Mes Desirs"  That means Protect me from my desires in French.  French is a really bad ass language.  It is also a song lyrics from this really obscure punk rock band called Placebo.  

Then I got really fierce swirls and shit under my quote to further emphasize how no one understands my life.

After my wicked swirls, I got this really hardcore tattoo of an evil demonic punk rock rabbit.  It has a killer fetus in it.

With my individualistic and rebellious rabbits on my back I decided I needed something that really spoke to my anarchist views and hatred for organized governments.  To express myself in the most punk rock way possible I got "2+2=5" on my arm.  This is a slogo used in 1984 to oppress people into believing whatever they are told.  Like television or other mindless media outlets that only exist to control us.

   

Now that I'm all tatted and rebellious I show my punk rock-ness in new ways.  Like this really hardcore skirt I got.