Below are the 6 most recent journal entries recorded in bunnykravitz's LiveJournal:

Thursday, August 26th, 2004
3:55 pm	good riddance, fucko (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, July 30th, 2004
1:01 am	A diner by th hiway a circl of trees closd with tall grassses a coupl of frends Flannel Jack 2Times Billy an Leave Her Alone Jake a small patch of dirt cleard from brokn glass an bottlecaps where u can rest your weary cottonfilled hed a yellow blanket stashd bhind th dumpster a Get Out of Hustlin Free Pass when th rotgut hits ya an th ground walks bridges up your guts comin out your mout if you’re lucky but u ain’t, your a rabbit, an a stuffd one at that u don’t hav a throat to let loose th churning inside u, u just have to suffer th stormy sees inside u as u stumbl through th children’s museum an try to hump th Convex/Concave exhibit After i don’t know how many days After 6 meals in 2 weeks After runnin from th cops on bad pink knees matted wit gum After spittin curses from th hole in my neck on th man who ripped me After getting crushed under 2Times Billy who passd out on top of me for 14 hours sleepin off th Lysol while i withered plastic heart nose caught in his malicious left armpit After findin a kitten in a Ziploc in th bathroom of IHOP After a hippy tried to muscle me in his car at th stoplite i was workin offerd me a joint insted of cash now what th fuck can i do with that when i can’t even inhale I DON’T HAVE LUNGS JERRY then th creepo grabbd hold of my fur an attemptd to pull me in his environmentalism church van with th smoke comin out th tires i tell you humans are sick i’m goin th fuck home To th red door behind wich a very angry littl man waits with accusations an ultimatums i’m sure To th dark closet where he stuffs me on top of his smelly old luggage near his stupid punk rock t-shirts that he loves mor than anyone To th arms of my Lisa Bunet, who holds me nd picks th gum off my furry knees an kisses me behind th ears an asks me if i held paws with anyone while i was gone that sweet rabbit i supose i should do right by her one of these days stick aroun start a family build a littl hole near a carot patch right behind a distillery but i’m just th restless sort, you know, a loner, a drifter, a by-your-leave bunny, a nomadic hare, a Rebel Without No Claws, she never thinks I’m funny She ain’t gonna like my decision to go to St. Louis, that’s for sure (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, July 22nd, 2004
11:18 pm	1 thing that's great bout bein a rabbit when u r homelss while yr frens r shivverng under newspapers or cardbord or sum shit u r cozy n warm in yr new rabbit hole reelly i'm never homelss plus a quik trip 2 th chevron in th mornng, i'm small enuff 2 crawl in the beer cooler hav a few n my fur cleens off nicely wit ice chips while yr frends grumbl outside th doors, leeve u when u emerge clean i know how it goes, out here if you know someone for more than 3 days, n in a row, you're practicly married tell u what, if i had those arms i'd dig myself a hell of a rabbit hole humans r so goddamm picky, even when they're homelss, paulie wuz tellin me about turnin down 2 cents, hell yoo don't do that ya stinkin biped, i'da cracked him on his no-eared noggin (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, July 20th, 2004
9:59 am	Ok alright people I’m werkn on th spelln so I don’t wanna hear it. It aint EZ when yr soft bonelss arms end in 2 blunt stumps wit no fingrs. Its dificult when yr hed is stuffd wit cotton, when yr eyes r 2 blak plastic buttons thru wich no lite passes. When yr mouth is jus a thred in a fuzzy face, and u cant taste yr booze bcause you have no tongue and yr nose is a pinc candy heart that some asshole in ebery bar is gonna say somethin about an u wind up in a puddl of beer and wine wich soaks into yr fur an ways u down till u cant even crawl yr arms ooz to th door butt cant pull u free seep into th craks an desert u sobbng th ocean around u island Its no piknik eether when th only guy who kares about u is a toothlss, immatur drug-attic who babbles all dam day about nothing but slam poetry & sigaretes & this girl or that girl giv it a rest blueballs u cant catch honey wit flies. It’s a godddam struggle yo whed you’re a stuffd bunny an everywon thinx your dirty butt its jus smoke-damag frum th 2 apartment fires ive survived cause mcj has the wurst freekin luk in th whole nown youniverse when you’re a stuffd rabbit in a human’s world th shitty sidewalx blunt my fists even more till I cant count to 1, bizness shoes step on my long floppy ears but I cant feel you, lisa, I cant remember what your face looks like Ive bin to more goddammmm nationals than most slam poets, ive been to the batthroom wit Krystal Ashe for christsakes don’t look at me layn on your doorstep like I’m some kinda burden to yoo, I enrich you’re life you tattued piece of yakshit don’t tell me I cant use you’re email address I made yoo biznootchy yoo cant talk to me like that. I’m not goin home tonite, im not goin home tomorrow, sum-in-a-botch’ll be lucky to catch a whiff of my carrotass again, mayb I’ll show up in St. louis show that littl fuckin monk bitch how to actually get laid at the nationals you know he aint never got laid at the nationals? Christ on a cracker what a jackhole wammo knose if yoo cant get laid at th nationals you cant get laid!!! Prawny piebald bitch! I’ma sho ya how itz dun!!!! So I’m out hear on th streetz tonite austin, think ov me in your cow-blanket beds, heds on downy pillows, dreeming the undisturbed slumbers of devils (4 Comments |Comment on this)
2:20 am	nooooo way im adddin slomo 2 my frens list...i haf to put up wit hiz crapola enuff specialli arownd this time of yeer, 2 wks b4 Nationals, mjc becums tha biggest payne in the arss austin's gonna win, austin's gonna lose, over an ovver chow fuckin annoyin iz that? Current Mood: hung-over Current Music: powndin in meee hed (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, July 19th, 2004
5:12 pm	doon't fuk with me today, i'm hunng ober (4 Comments |Comment on this)