Come In For The Gigantic Bath Tub, Stay For The Saki Champagne Hangover

Come In For The Nature, Stay For Brie Stuffed French Toast

Mr. Bundini is spending the weekend relaxing in Whistler with Mr. Firepie (who performed with his manly band last night). Even though Mr. Bunndini drank too many local beers last night there will still be canoeing or at the very least brunching and slow walks through nature.

His Stripper Name Is Marzipan

Favourite song: "Total Eclipse Of The Heart" or anything by The Doobie Brothers

Favourite food: Hawkins cheezies 

Favourite colour: crystal blue persuasion

Favourite drag bar: P.P. Tuckins

Second favourite drag bar: T.J. Packins

Come In For The Pickled Eggs, Stay For The Monkey Riding A Goat

Come In For The Sweatpants, Stay For The Grilled Cheese Sandwich

Nerd Is The Word

Dear Wiener Dog In The Sky:

Please do not let any of these things happen to me this weekend because I do not have the patience or  fortitude to deal with any of them:
- Wedding shower
- A doctor using the word "inoperable" when diagnosing me
- Finding half a slug at the bottom of my salad bowl
- Someone that I cannot escape from describing their dreams in vivid detail to me
- Hangnails on all fingers and toes
- Papercut on my eyeball
- Ebola Zaire
- My car engine blows up just as I'm about to sell it
- Someone saying "she seems nice" when describing meeting me for the first time
- Maggots

Instead may I recommend the following activities:
- Beer
- Patio
- Doobies
- Spicy chicken wings

Thank you for your support.

Regards,
Mr. Bunndini

It's Hard Out There For A Ging

Redheaded men have it tough; sensitivity to the sun, pasty white skin, low pain tolerance, covered in freckles, orange pubes, fiery tempers and only Eric Stolz to hold up as a template of handsomeness (excluding his character in the movie Mask of course). Mr. Bunndini would like Mr. Firepie to know that she appreciates all of those traits and is expecting a rubdown when he returns from his latest roadie duties (see above photo).

Vomit Free Since 2003

Mr. Bunndini doesn't like to barf any more than the next guy. I had a friend who was so afraid of barfing that he would have panic attacks at the slightest tummy rumble; he avoided shellfish and Indian food. Another friend screamed at the top of his lungs when riding the porcelain bus; gasping for breath after each heave, it sounded like a particularly nasty home birthing session.

I long prided myself on being vomit free since 2003 but sadly the streak was broken in 2010 in one glorious night of suspect squid and jagermeister shots. Yesterday I thought I would "talk to Ralph on the big white telephone" for most of the day but the crisis was averted and now I am left with just a lingering metallic taste in my mouth. It's probably just scurvy.

Super Old Guy Haiku Of The Day

Like a sonic boom

The sound of my morning joints

Snap crickity pop

Why am I always

Wide awake at at 5am?

Awesome zimmer frame

Whiskey hangover

Lasts for forty days and nights

May need a new hip

I Woke Up Super Old This Morning

Forget The Alamo, Remember The Triscuits

Mr. Bunndini would like to welcome Mavis Stapler, NJ, Maggie and Sid to their new home in Houston. May the lime popsicles be plentiful and the cockroaches be wee.