Goodbye Vacation Bunches

Prior to our move, Mr. Bunches was more often known as Vacation Bunches.  Vacation Bunches was a fun-loving soul who made up for his lack of showering, shaving, and overall hygiene with his shear wit and funnyman skills.  See, after we sold our pizza joint, and then once Mr. Bunches tapped into his unbeknownst-to-us realtor skills and sold our condo, he was essentially on vacation until our big move . . . hence, the birth of Vacation Bunches.

Although, truth be told, Vacation Bunches really came about during a trip last November to visit our family in Florida . . . without a care in the world (seemingly), nowhere to be, and nothing to do, this was born:

And despite all odds (the stress of packing, moving, saying goodbyes), Vacation Bunches prevailed–spurred on by his annual trip to Vegas with his Brockport boys (they make a pilgrimage each year for March Madness).  Knowing that the Vegas trip would be Vacation Bunches’ last hurrah, the stakes were raised (the trip conveniently took place the day after we moved, so I was left to explore the great unknown that is Brockport all on my own for a week–joy).  He had to go out with a bang, and that meant no amount of hair was too  much . . . in the end, this was how he looked when he boarded his plane:

Pretty close resemblance, huh?

Don’t worry, as soon as he got home, Vacation Bunches was put to rest–by the time I got home from work, the beard was gone, his hair was cut, and he sadly informed me that the t-shirt got left in Vegas :(.

Hangover image from here.


  1. […] So off we headed to Rochester one Saturday afternoon in hopes of snagging some awesome cheese, and maybe some local booty too.  I’ve always loved a good farmer’s market, and in Boston you can easily get spoiled by the sheer number of them that descend upon the city every April . . . I even had one right outside my office, so buying local was simple (which was a good thing since Mr. Bunches wasn’t always up for farmer’s markets—whenever I would spot one on our travels around town, he liked to say it was closed and we’d have to go another time . . . real nice, huh?  But one of our agreements upon moving to NY was that every market was going to be “open” from now on.  That’s right—Mr. Bunches was going to become a farmer’s market groupie . . . I wonder if that might look something like Vacation Bunches?) […]

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