Il Pleut Comme Vache Qui Pisse

Mr. Bunndini woke up with some serious bitchy hungover pants on this morning and after perusing facebook for a full twelve minutes with my morning coffee I have determined that these are the three things I am least interested about you:

1) The dream you had last night
2) Your pre-natal ultrasound photo
3) How many household chores you have to do this weekend

Those Pajamas Make Your Hangover Look Great

I need all of these cats to help me get my work done today because of all the pitchers of beer I drank last night.

One Of Those Days

Mr. Bunndini avoided the e-coli laden devilled eggs at that restaurant in Regina but can't avoid the relentless grey Vancouver rain and a 12 hour work day. Send soup stat!

I Have Also Been Known To File His Toenails

Dumps Like A Truck

 

Sassafras Herbert likes Hawaiian pizza, macrame and Game Of Thrones. He finds it strange that he has never met anyone named Martin who is not British.

My Spirit Animal Is Triscuits

Mulligatawny Staggers is his name. Eating jam is his game.

I Believe You Can Get Me Through The Night

Sometimes when the rains come and the days are grey and dreary, all we really need is a visit from a good friend and a few rounds of one of Mr. Bunndini's favourite songs "Train Waver" (sung to the tune of "Dream Weaver" by Gary Wright)

Triptafen Is The New Black

Yesterday I made a rookie mistake. Today I am putting on sweatpants BEFORE I go for turkey dinner so I can reach maximum stuffing capacity.

Also, Dr. Mavis Stapler, couch and PVR look forward to seeing you tonight when you arrive from Florence. I would have bought more beer but it's a holiday so a gigantic bottle of scotch will have to suffice in a pinch.

(I think we all know and accept that this one is photoshopped)

Stop

A) In the name of love
B) Drop and roll
C) Hammer time

He's Magically Delicious