Yakety Yak Don't Talk Back

Mr. Bunndini is going on a short road trip to Princeton to teach kids about the wonders of the music industry and drink cans of Strongbow by a lake. I will be listening to only music written by Leiber and Stoller on the drive there and only David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust album on repeat on the drive back. Wish me luck.

Also, Dr. Mavis Stapler please be careful because a hurricane is allegedly heading your way. Fill your bath tub with water and make sure you have enough tater tots to last you a week. 

Bronchitis Haiku

M.V.P. stands for

Most Valuable Phlegmer

Codeine cough syrup

TGIF

You know those motivational posters often seen in doctor waiting rooms and high school counsellor offices? I like to replace the verb, be it "dance" or "sing" or "celebrate", with the word "fart". Let's all try it together shall we?

Fart like the whole world is watching.

Keep calm and fart on.

Fart as if you'll live forever, fart as if you'll die today.

To fart or not to fart, there is no try.

Give a man a fart and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fart and you feed him for a lifetime.

Little Lord Jauntelroy

PAJAMA MONSTER (noun): A person who has not left their apartment (or the general neighbourhood of their apartment) in several days due to injury, sickness or laziness. Clad in the same pair of sweatpants or pajamas for the duration of the self imposed confinement.

Here are the things the Pajama Monster may do:
Eat random items that can be prepared in 4 minutes or less (including pickled eggs, crackers, soup and more soup), blow it's nose and let the dirty kleenexes pile up on the coffee table, have a nap, watch bad movies on Movie Central because they are free, wear one sock, sneeze frequently and go to Whole Foods with it's hair standing up on one side wearing saggy sweat pants to buy overpriced mac and cheese.

The Pajama Monster does not under any circumstances do any of the following:

Bathe, put in contact lenses, answer the phone when it's mother calls, laundry, open the blinds, use the oven and wear a bra.

Hamchan (sung to the tune of "Half Breed")

Browsing Craigslist Does Not Cure Insomnia

The word FUNKY should only be used to describe foul odors. Using it to describe an item you are selling on Craigslist will ensure I do not buy it on principle. It's basically a metaphor for "I have questionable taste". My mother likes to use this word to describe anything with orcas embroidered on it and lime green linen pantsuits (mere moments before she purchases them).

Also it's not chic to be shabby nor has it ever been. If I wanted a dresser with three layers of paint peeling off it I'd get one in the alley for free not for $2500 on South Granville.

I'll Bring The Pudding

Mr. Bunndini likes a regular mani-pedi and frequents Fantasy Nails (said with a Richardo Montalbán accent) on Davie Street. While my nails are being beautified I like to read trashy magazines and have my lower back pummelled by an electric massage chair. In these magazines there are often interviews with celebrities and a favourite question is to ask them who the guests at their fantasy dinner party would be. Regardless of who the celebrity is they inevitably always say Jesus and/or Cleopatra and/or Oscar Wilde. I think those three would only talk about themselves the entire evening, get too drunk, pee all over the bathroom floor and not offer to help clean up (even though a good host would always refuse the offer). Instead I propose the following guests at Mr. Bunndini's dream dinner party. You can come too as long as you bring an appetizer.

The Chicken Lady because she could make omelettes with eggs fresh from her body.

Judy Garland would sing Get Happy and share her pills with the other guests.

Jon Stewart would provide political commentary.

Pee Wee Herman. No explanation needed.

Fran Leibowitz will bring the smokes and the witty banter.

Joey Ramone because everyone doesn't have to talk all the time and someone may need to reach the extra bottles of liquor from the cupboard over the fridge.

Lucy and Ethel for the gossip.

Cary Grant for everyone to flirt with.

And the final guest would be Marcel Marceau because it's not a good party unless someone cries and at least he'd do it silently.

Smells Like A Hamster Cage

I took an informal poll of my nearest and dearest to determine what their least favourite songs of all time are and the results were as follows:

Mr. Bunndini: "We Didn't Start The Fire" by Billy Joel
Pollyanna: "One Tin Soldier Rides Away"
Dr. Mavis Stapler: "The Little Drummer Boy"
Firepie: "Abracadabra" by the Steve Miller Band
The Commissioner: "Sussudio" by Phil Collins
Jacques Frontenac: "We Built This City" by Jefferson Starship

Living The Dream

It's a proven fact that you are the direct opposite of whatever the slogan your t-shirt says. This goes double if it's written on the ass of your sweatpants. I'm just saying.

Taste The Love

How come when you get back to work from a vacation you are a million times more tired than before you left and everything at your office is a million times more irritating?