Sorry, no provocative pics of Dr. Ginger. Not yet anyway. I think he's waiting for the big moving day to bare his chest while lifting those heavy boxes as Dr. PA and I get our manicures. I will be ready with the camera, and I'm not sure about his shoe size.
For a brief and shining moment it looked as if Mr. Bunker could be staying in chilly Chicago while me & the chirruns would kick back in the sun and surf. This nearly came to pass because his reverse business acumen, specifically, his failure to notice that one of his tenants (one of the two commercial tenants, the ones with the big rents) had not paid rent for an entire year.
How do you not notice that? More importantly, how do you not notice that and then proceed to endlessly and loudly impart your advice upon your spouse about how she should run HER business? bugger off already.
For one glorious night I went to sleep with some kind of weird tic that was later diagnosed as a tiny smile.My face didn't really have time to get used to it and I think I was scaring my kids. The scowl has now returned; at least people recognize me now. Mr. Bunker has dealt with his pressing business issues and is busy packing his mankini. yuck.
We are going to be visiting friends who happen to be vegetarians, which means that Mr. Bunker will probably be packing 23 pounds of beef jerky and salami, lest he go into some sort of beef and garlic withdrawal. I wonder if this will be noticed by the drug sniffing dogs at the airport.
The airport should be interesting because there will probably be some TSA agents jamming ice-picks into theirs eyes so they have an excuse to get away from that full body scanner when mah boo comes through.
Nothing like looking sexy on the beach!
10 comments:
Dear Mrs. Bunker,
The mankini is female revenge gone awry. For every five women struggling into some contraption made of three scraps of bombazine, there is a man herniating himself donning a Lycra mankini.
When they get to the beach with many haole man-studs, perhaps these wrestling men feel a puff of remorse for all those Chicago-style pizzas consumed. But not really.
Don't forget those pig roasts! There are plenty of chances for a meat-eater to dine splendidly in Hawaii. Don't forget those pina coladas! Or your sunscreen!
Have a wonderful time with the Macadamia Nuts, my dear lovely Hula Hands,
Ann T.
P.S. That last sentence sounds suggestive. Behave yourself, Mrs. B! Remember that scowl and at least a little of your deportment.
You will want to come back with the moral high ground. Properly managed, it can last you all year.
Truthfully--I hope you and your family have a very good time.
Mrs. B......just want to wish you a great time , soak it all in. Pat the "towel lady" I'm jealous!
Oh man! I am verbally, physically and emotionally jealous and not afraid to say it out loud!! Oh except the part about the chillins and Mr B.... but otherwise I am, really, jealous! Have a fab time, stay away from that erupting volcano unless they are asking for volunteer sacrifices of the overweight,overbearing, reverse businesss accume-ed husband, then feel free to send Mr B... we promise not to tell! Will he REALLY wear a mankini? ewwww
Always respectful of the Dr in you,
Gia
(especially when you do great shoe posts!)
Have fun!
Well, I love the volcano idea Gia has! Seriously, I hope, despite the unwanted attendee, you can soak in some sun and good vibes. I also hope the winds of peace will come and soothe you. Have a GREAT time--NO MATTER WHAT!
Oh so jealous. And my neighbor wears a mankini...and pulls it off! I dont mean takes it off, he wears it well!! Hawt!!
Have fun Edith and drink LOTS!!!
Dear Mrs. Bunker,
I am afraid the Sad Troof is that you found an island cult, they tied you up, made you eat pineapple, and sacrificed you to a volcano.
Alternative Troof is that you chunked life's eternal rummage sale and ran off with a surfer who waxes his chest.
Alternative Troof is that you came home to minister to the omnipresent sick, and fell into a canyon of abysmal work.
If it is the Piney Apple Cult, send an SOS. I will gladly fly to the Islands and kick cult booty, however butt-crack challenged they may be.
If it is the surfer, may you ride the wave and master the tides,
If it is the press of work, you may count on me to cheer you forward. I hear Manolo is having another sale.
Ann T.
Just a little update. Mrs. B did find that Piney Apple Cult and she tried to join, but then Archie showed up with a gift of 10,000 boxes of Kotex that he had found on the sale table and insisted that they all start using them. Then he began insulting the cult members for being too childish and having too much butt crack showing (as he lumbered around in his mankini.) Unfortunately they thought that as fat as he was a sacrifice of Archie would give their volcano god indigestion so they kicked them both out.
Mrs B is however back and deeply buried in that canyon of work. It's going to be a rough next few weeks, so she'll need all of your cheers and notices of shoe sales. And if you know of any spare surfer dudes, send them her way.
Thanks for the update Whale. Glad she wasnt sacrificed. I do miss her though. HURRY UP EDITH!!!!
Dear The Whale,
It is darn encouraging to hear that Mr. Bunker finally unloaded all that Kotex. No sane woman wants it, and I certainly don't know why a man would. I suppose you could make a Halloween costume for the Michelin man out of it.
As for the canyon of work, I do sympathize. Mrs. Bunker, your style is inimitable, but even the best of us wear out. Here's to you!
May your troubles go away at a gallop! Then spring shoes are a Must. perhaps they should be delivered to a Spa.
Ann T.
Thank god your back ...I was afraid you ran off with some beach boy. I've missed you!!!! I'm one of those worrying freaks. Hope you had a good time and are all tan etc. Pat the towel lady.
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