The Bun Life - You Know the Economy is Bad When You See This..

Wow, I can't believe I finally have to go through with this sale, but we need the money for Sydney's dental work, he is getting two gold teeth implanted next week. Boy, this is what they call "Roughin it" right?



The Bun Life - Oh What a Tangled Web We Weave

If you watch TV ever, then you will at some point see commercials advertising the website and the things that people find out about their ancestors on there. They usually feature some people who talk about heroes they were related to, or their Uncle was born a slave and died a businessman. It was really touching at some parts; both I and Baby Fwan needed at least one Kleenex when it came on. Anyway, to get back to my pointless story, me and the buns (or the buns and I, or myself and thy group of buns, or more formal I could say Thy Buns and Thyself) decided to sign-up there and see what’s what. After all, they say that “you don’t need to know exactly what you are looking for; you just have to start looking.” Kinda like copping drugs in the city. Anyway, here is what we have learned about us so far:


I found out that my brother’s uncle’s adopted illegitimate son’s neighbor’s son actually cared for the dog who was once owned by the adopted son’s Great Great Uncle, who was related, through marriage, to the late Siamese twin sister of the owner of Pap’s Bakery, whose mother once prostituted herself to the famous Nostradamus, after his family died of the Black Plague of course. I can’t tell you how honored I feel that I am so closely related to a prophetic legend. Oh and I found out that my fifth removed Grandfather was Vito Corleone’s right-hand man. I mean that literally; when he knew him Vito Corleone didn’t have a right hand, so he needed my great granddad to do all of the tasks that he couldn’t then do with his own right-hand. I can only speak for myself, but I think $400.00 a month for the next twelve years on my Amex card is a miniscule amount in exchange for finding out your true roots.


Poor Thumps, we found out that his entire extended family (about 1200 people), going back almost 900 years, had a combined I.Q. of only 34. This had devastating effects on the confidence of Thumper’s relatives, one of them was stabbed in a drive by, one got fired from the M&M factory for throwing away all the W’s, and one even got fired from the jigsaw puzzle factory for throwing out all the broken puzzles that were in pieces. Poor Thumps was born, but his mother didn’t realize she was supposed to keep the baby, so she just handed him over for adoption, along with his 43 other twins born that day. I hate to admit it, but anyone related to Thumper was doomed to spend an eternity of being stupid. Poor Thumps.

Baby Fwan

Following Baby Fwan’s lineage was one of the more interesting ones that I did. I found out that both of Frannie’s parents were Polish Yahtzee champions, who toured Poland during the 1950’s and Polish Yahtzee I guess. Incredibly, Frannie’s Great Great Great Grandmother Aunt Gertrude, was genetically altered, having her DNA spliced with the nucleus from a pumpernickel bagel, thus creating the interesting characteristics we see on Frannie today. Apparently, having steel wool for whiskers was a totally unexpected turn out. They felt she was worth the trouble, so they turned a blind eye to the mistakes. When Fran was young, her aunt and the cast of Different Strokes robbed a string of nursing homes at gun point, very troubling. Also, all of the women in Frannie’s side were fat just like Frannie is, and 60% of them also had detachable flying ears as well, so I thought that was pretty neat. One thing I realized from all this, is that I finally realized all of the realizations I had been putting off for a while, and now I finally realize it and I’m putting a stop to it.

Sydney aka “Public Bunny Enemy Number One” aka “Sydney the Bull” aka “The Great Dwarf Hope” aka “The Netherland Crusher” aka “Get ‘r Bun”

Last but certainly not least is the little guy, aka Dr. Freckles and Mr. Jive because of his two-face reputation. It turns out that Sydney is related, by blood, to a retarded African Chimpanzee named “Wee Wee”. I know I know, it is sounds crazy, but hear me out, it’s true. Wee Wee frequently charges at her gate head first and totally sacrifices his body for the ultimate prize, which is killing you :) The rest of Syd’s family tree got uprooted by Hurricane Muhammad, so my research ended there, a shame but what can I do right?

Boy, this sure is a small world when you have a gaggle of booby rabbits.

The Bun Life – Adventures of Bun Life Buns, Installment One

I am sure you always wondered what your bunnies would say if they could speak to you or one another in English, right? Well, either way, I have quite a few thoughts on how their conversations would flesh out, so without further a due, I present The Adventures of Bun Life Buns Installment One:

BF=Baby Fwan, TR= Thumper

BF: “Hey Thumps, over here you idiot! No, not over there, OVER HERE. I can’t believe this, how can you not find me when we are in the same room together?”

TR: “Duh, well, I am tracking your voice, not looking for you visually as much. Still can’t find you, let me try this – MARCO!”

BF: “Oh god, how stupid. …POLO!”


BF: “POLO! For Pete’s sake! I see you, I am directly to your left!”

TR: “Where? I don’t see you at all. MARCO!!”

BF: “Your LEFT, not RIGHT! Your other side!”

TR: “Oh, hey, now I see you. MARCO!”

BF: “Stop saying MARCO, you found me already.”

TR: “Okay, gees, talk about grumpy. I swear, all you pumpernickel women have zero patience.”

BF: “Well, it is better than having zero of everything else, like you.”

TR: “Whatever, lets spoon over here in front of the TV, this way we can watch each other’s backs, in case Jim tries to pick us up or something.”

BF: “Okay.”

--------- 2 Hours Pass ----------

BF: “Thumps, wake up, let’s switch positions, the carpet is practically roasting my belly.”

TR: “Duhh, fine I guess. Hey you feel like chewing up anything of Jim’s? Maybe some computer or speaker wires maybe?”

BF: “No, you know I have my Picker Upper’s Anonymous meeting tonight, so why are you even asking? Wait, I take that back, you’re stupid so it makes perfect sense that you forgot already.”

TR: “Whatever. How is that going by the way? Get your 7-day chip tonight?”

BF: “Yeah, been a whole 7 days since I was last picked up, I am hesitant to celebrate, since this is my 60th 7-day chip. Oh well, I’ll make the most of it.”

TR: “Listen, you should be proud, you can’t help it if Jim or someone else picks you up really. Well, you can, but if they get to pick you up after a chase, then you’ve done your best and should leave it up to your higher power.”

BF: “Higher power? Who would that be, the House Rabbit Society, or the Bunny Buddha?”

TR: “Whoever you want to believe it is, it is imperative that you believe your own bullshit brainwashing, so that you can heal.”

BF: “Okay, enough already, can we talk about something else please? How is the renovation under the couch going, making good progress?”

TR: “Not a whole lot, we can only run the power tools when Jim is asleep or not home, so chances have been minimal. We did get 90% of the stuffing underneath removed.”

BF: “Now you know that was my doing, stop trying to take credit for it.”

TR: “We have agreed on a cease-fire with El Lunatico in the other room though, I am trying to create a good rapport with him, but it is slow going. He is such a psycho that I have trouble even having a civilized conversation with him. I swear, as soon as I walk up to the gate, he starts charging and showing his teeth. I tell you, even though he weighs only 3 ounces, he is a brave little SOB. He don’t scare me though, he has no idea I won three consecutive Golden Paws titles when I was in the service.”

BF: “Service?”

TR: “Yeah, I was a member of the Bunny Brigades back in ’73, but I don’t like to talk about it.”

BF: “God, you are such a numbskull, and now a pathological liar on top of it. Man, if Jim only knew how big of a contrast there is between your fluffy white coat and your horrible character. Sometimes I don’t know why we even got bonded.”

TR: “You have no idea how much that day meant to me though. What day was that again?”

…To Be Continued  

The Bun Life - Happy New Year, & the Extras That Come WIth Living in an Apartment Complex

2011, wow, what a shock. It feels like only yesterday it was 2010, boy time flies when you could care less about anything. Anyway, I figured I would share this "situation" I have living in my apartment here. You see, I have neighbors of course, to my left, to my right, and above. The left and right ones are transparent like me, never make a sound beyond the normal daily living quirks. But the ones above, a couple in their 30's, are totally different. Just to note, they are actually really nice and friendly, and always have a smile and a friendly greeting when I see them. However, it is not seeing them that is the issue, it is hearing them. By the sounds of things, you would think they were taping the sequel to Boogie Nights up there. At least 5 or 6 times a week, they go at it, and go at it, and go at it. I don't know where they find time for anything else. I wouldn't even notice, had they not have their room right above my living room. Call me crazy, but I know for sure that they know I can hear them, because more than once I have tried to make it known such as saying in passing, "Up late last night huh?" or something to that effect. They just smile and nod or whatever, but that is as far as the conversation goes.

Talk about weird, I've almost grown accustomed to it, and have even started to schedule my nights around their prime time romping. I was thinking of inviting people over, charging them twenty bucks each, hire a bouncer, and even start a website, you know, make a night of it. Recently things have started to take a bizarre turn in the Playboy mansion upstairs though. Evidently there has been some role playing going on, I think so because a lot of the conversation makes no sense. For example, the wife couldn't have "just got home from cheerleading practice" because she graduated a long time ago. Damn pre-verts. I feel like yelling one night, "Come on, for Christ's sake, we have young bunnies down here!" I wonder sometimes who she is talking to, me or him, I find myself answering her questions, "you like that?" then from my apartment, "Yup! Just like that!" Okay, that is a lie, but it could happen! On the weekends there seems to be an overtime session as well, afterwards even I need a cigarette, and I don't smoke. Okay, back to work here, I sure hope none of this is added to my rent. :)