Bun Boy Eats LA
BUN BOY EATS LA - Archives for 2010 April


  • April 29, 2010 8:02 pm

Haller's Princess Birthday 2010 017cake balls

We’ve been throwing parties at our pool for years now.

(I’m sure this is a sentence the poverty striken residents of Ethiopia utter on a regular basis)

Usually the theme is Luau.

Usually we wear floral print, do the limbo and serve Mai Tai’s.

Usually the youngin’s snort mysterious powders in someone’s bathroom while the semi-elderly pop painkillers and chain smoke.

The year Kenny Loggins showed up, I’ll never forget this exchange, when our inebriated friend “Fish Sticks” walked up to him.

“You gotta know when to hold ’em and know when to fold ’em!” – Fish Sticks

“Wrong Kenny.” – Kenny Loggins

We haven’t had a party in a while, so I was excited to throw this Princess Birthday party.

For an adult.

Chesty Morgan loves Disney. She loves Belle from Beauty and the Beast.

Haller's Princess Birthday 2010 020haller

We combined these aspects to create a birthday to remember, we even created a Rum drink called “Belle’s Bombers”

I don’t recall what was in it, even though I watched it being made. As I witnessed the cheap, bottom-shelf plastic rum bottle squeeze out a headache inducing elixer, I realized I was not missing out.

We had a cake designer create a 12 layer birthday cake for us, it was the heaviest food I’ve ever lifted.

Haller's Princess Birthday 2010 006cake

In addition to the cake, the designer gave us cupcakes and these amazing Cake Balls (pictured at top). They’re pieces of cake and icing smashed up into meatballs and dipped in chocolate! Incredible!

We played the game Celebrity, listened to excruciatingly bad pop music from Disney artists and ordered the a Big Mama’s Pizza. It’s literally as big as a table!

Notice the slash mark made from the grease! Underneath, it was a crime scene!

Haller's Princess Birthday 2010 023pizza

Chesty had a great time. I could tell this by the fact she held the enormous pitcher of premade rum and coke’s in her hand and sipped it with a straw. After everyone had left!



  • April 28, 2010 8:32 am

Johnnies 004pizza



Wait until you have a writing utencil before you give the go ahead to someone to tell you their phone number.

Here’s my convo with a vendor just last week.

“Are you ready?” – Bun Boy

“Yes, go ahead” – Annoying Man

“310…282…” – BB

“Wait, let me get a pen.” – AM


“Are you ready now?”




“282….” !!!!!

Johnnies 002salad


I hate it when people are oblivious to their surroundings and how their actions affect others.

I was going for a walk and two people were blocking the sidewalk with their dogs and prospective leashes. I remember the woman reminding me of a cranky Karen Carpenter.

I began to realize they had no intention of moving out of my way. I noticed a large assortment of animal feces in the narrow section of gravel that is my only option for escape.

To show my disdain for their blatant disregard of the importance of keeping my shoe soles poop free, I leap high into the air (exaggerating my every motion) narrowly avoiding the fecal cemetary.

That’ll teach ’em, I thought as I made sure I landed really hard, displacing obnoxious portions of innocent gravel.

They didn’t even see me.

Johnnies 001garlic knots


I hate public restrooms. I have a lot to say on the matter, but let’s just focus on one very insignificant, mildly creepy event I would much rather avoid.

Sharing another persons butt warmth.

As a woman, you deal with this all the time. You do not know the joy that is the urinal, and the ability to experience a public restroom unscathed. You have to touch more stuff.

Sitting down on a warm toilet, knowing another man has just committed unspeakable acts there…well, it gives me the heebies. Like finding a pool of blood left over from a crime scene. Too soon!


Good, not amazing pizza. Great garlic knots!


  • April 23, 2010 7:55 am

Coachella 2010 064danglingsack

Where did I leave off? Oh. The parking lot of Doom.

We thought we were gonna make a quick getaway, hardly anyone was leaving Coachella yet and we were exhausted.


Yes, someone put up cones blocking the only lot exit.



Now, the cones weren’t stuffed with explosives. I don’t know why we didn’t just roll over them.

Oh, there was a parking lot attendant standing behind them.


There were about 10 cars trying to exit. 2 lines of them converging on the sole exit.


Everyone hung their heads out the windows screaming at the attendant and the cop that had arrived.

As the guy was barraged by verbal boots being thrown at him, he got pissed, told Confucious “The city’s not letting anyone out for two hours!” and got in a golf cart and sped away.

We look and see cars from the other lots driving away seamlessly.

Everyone was going ballistic. People were getting out of their cars, trying to find someone to yell at, getting back in their cars and repeating the futile routine.

Eventually some girl got out and moved the cones and the security guard moved them right back.

Well, finally the cones were moved and we raced out of their, thanking the guard with a bouquet of profanities.

We later heard, they blocked off the lot shortly after, making some folks wait FOUR HOURS before leaving!

We stayed a famous tiki hotel in Palm Springs called the Caliente Tropics. We stayed here last year and, while we did find a blood stain on my pillow, we decided to give this place another try.

Things haven’t really changed since the place opened, as the orange pool chairs can testify.

Coachella 2010 033orange chairs

Elvis, Nancy Sinatra and… Anna Nicole Smith used to hang out here.

Coachella 2010 037hotelCoachella 2010 036tikiCoachella 2010 034anna

For breakfast, I was able to enjoy a delicious turkey sandwich at Sherman’s Deli at the insistance of Thelma and Louise.

As boring as turkey sandwiches are, this one was the tops! “The ulimate most!” – Marcia Brady

Coachella 2010 041turkey

Saturday, we repeated the same system as before. See a few songs of one band, move on to the next.

In the early afternoon, it was quite pleasant. Not too crowded, not too hot.

More important than the music, I noticed a few disturbing trends:

FEATHERS. Worn by almost everyone. Why, I ask.

Coachella 2010 062feathers

Full on BODY SUITS, in the intense desert heat!

Coachella 2010 066blue man

Coachella 2010 092neonbackpack

NEON! The 80’s are back folks. Seriously. This was being worn by a non-nerdy, middle aged man.

We rocked out to about 1005 bands and danced our butts off. We wore ring lights and tried to write words in the air.


Coachella 2010 078neon hi

That evening we escaped the parking lot unscathed. Thank god.

The next morning, we got bagels. Jalapeno bagels!!

Coachella 2010 087bagel

Day three. We were pretty tired.

And people really began to stink.

Many of the attendees camped on site.

We had a nice bed and shower to utilize.

At any given moment, I was always downwind from someone who had not that luxury.

Either someone’s human stink, someone’s cigarette, or someone’s mary jane.

I read somewhere that 9 drug arrests were made on Friday. Hmm. Out of 75,000. Crack team of enforcement officers, clearly.

We staked out our food options early. Before we knew it, we had every meal for the entire day planned out.

Tacos at Border Grill! (They were just ok)

Coachella 2010 097tacos

We left before seeing the final band on Sunday, tired, hot, sweaty, stinking of smoke, mouths’ covered in Indian food residue (I ate it at least once every day)

We had once again conquered Coachella, somewhat unscathed, never to return again.

Until 2011.


  • April 20, 2010 8:43 pm

Coachella 2010 046coachellasign

Coachella was about four things this year: Crowds, Neon, Feathers and Naanwiches.

Coachella 2010 027nanwich

This is my fourth year braving the intense Palm Springs (adjacent) heat and enormous sea of smelly humans converging to see an epic collection of bands.

Coachella 2010 051groupshot

The Coachella Music Festival, which has been around since 1998, is probably the most popular festival in the world. I figured this was true judging by the fact that every person on the planet seemed to be there.

Seriously, the crowds were so ridiculously enormous, that it was a joke. The type of joke that causes panic attacks. We basically had to form a train anytime we wanted to manuever through the sperm swimming upstream.

Coachella 2010 015hulahoop

We left LA on Friday morning at around 10 and by the time we finally made it inside the festival, the 2.5 hour trip turned into 6 bloody hours!

While we waited in one of the three unncessary lines, having just been told they had run out of wristbands that were to serve as our tickets, a near riot ensued when someone tried to cut in line.

A man with a green hat began to boldly stroll between the two distinct lines that had formed. One of our party, Confucious, screamed “Hey, get in line buddy!”

Eventually the crowd began to chime in as well! Before you knew it, everyone in earshot was chanting “GREEN HAT!! GREEN HAT!! GREEN HAT!!”

It was quite amusing.

Coachella 2010 004fries

When we weren’t rushing from band to band at either of the five tents and stages, we were eating. A lot.





We have a schizophrenic style of doing Coachella.

We see a few songs of one band, than race off to see another. It’s a fun, hectic schedule.

Tenille runs a tight ship and her boyfriend and I follow her lead, obedient soldiers ready to cram as much music in our systems as possible.

After leaving one of the bands, we notice a girl sitting against a small recycling bin in the middle of the main grassy walkway, BLATANTLY PEEING.

People were snapping photos, I was in such shock, I had to be convinced of what she was actually doing.

“No Sander, she’s PEEING”, insisted Tenille.

I saw the stream of urine come right at me, like a 3-D movie. Not a scene likely to be found in Alice in Wonderland or Avatar.

Her facial expression was that of “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I couldn’t hold it, deal with it.” She also managed to roll her eyes as if she couldn’t be more bored.

We ended the crazy night with Jay Z doing his thing. Or thang.

We only caught a few songs before escaping to our hotel but managed to miss Beyonce come out and woo the audience.

Confucious is enamored with Beyonce. Not just her, but her music as well. If you knew him, you would know this makes absolutely no sense.

One time he followed 4 pre teen girls who swore that they saw Beyonce watching a concert from somewhere yonder.

We had a horrific experience out of the parking lot that night. More on that in Part 2. Stay tuned suckas!

Coachella 2010 019sweeneybryansunset


  • April 20, 2010 10:13 am

KFC - Double Down 002

Yes, I actually ate this.

The whole thing.

This creature with the bacon tongue actually hung out in my body for a while.

It was sick.

It was wrong.

My arteries closed for business.

My heart went on strike.

And it was all worth it!

KFC - Double Down 001

A moodier view…


  • April 16, 2010 8:48 am

Korean BBQ 001

I have somewhat of a history with Mr. Neil Diamond.

Somewhat tawdry, mostly dull.

I believe, wholeheartedly, that Senor Diamond feels I have an unnatural obsession with him.

It all started when I was at the urinal at my work, peeing, as one does there.

Standing next to me was a stern, older gentleman dressed in all black, doing the same. As we both went to wash up, I realized who he was. As I looked up at him, I stared into very large, angry eyes and quickly scooted away, hands improperly dried.

From then on I seemed to find Mr. D in there a lot.

One time, I remember desperately trying to pee while he and a friend chatted VERY loudly behind me. Not a drop came out. God knows what they thought of the guy silently standing at the urinal listening to every word they said.

Finally, I just left the bathroom, not even washing my hands. Too humiliated.

This morning, I have a question only Mary Maryson knows the answer to.

For some reason, I edge out of my office, straining to see if Mary is in her office.

Straining, almost tipping over, my eyes pass all the offices, including our big conference room where I see a man with large angry eyes, staring at me, directly in my eye shot.


Korean BBQ 003

Looking pissed.

I dart back in my office.

Crap. Now he thinks I was straining to get a good look at my idol or something!

Is there any way to rectify this?

Hmm, I wonder if he said anything about me?

“Bob, you seem to have a peeping Tom in your midst” – Neil

“What do you mean?” – Bob

“Well, some pervert manages to sneak in the restroom every time I’m there, trying to get a look at my junk and now I find him peeking in at me this morning! Working for the Enquirer, no doubt.”

“Neil, I’ll be sure to fire him as soon as we’re done here. It’s probably Bun Boy and we’ve been having issues since he told Sheena Easton’s manager he hopes Sheena isn’t treating her like shit anymore!”

Korean BBQ 002


We ordered the bimbimbop (top) the Korean Hash Browns (above) and several items to bbq ourselves, including Galbi, Chicken and Veggies and Tofu. Upscale place, not cheap. Good stuff.

9540 Washington Blvd
Culver City, CA 90232
(310) 838-3131


  • April 14, 2010 8:22 am

Bawarchi 001

“You’ve GOT to be kidding me” spits the Jerk we went to lunch with as I snap a photo of my delicious meal.

Too shocked to respond, the Jerk’s wife defends “No, he has a food blog, he takes pictures of everything he eats!”

I already hate him.

As we enjoy our vegetarian Indian feast, I ponder two things. Which item will wreck the most havoc on my bowels and how do I rid myself of the paparazzi hating fiend at the end of the table, making everyone’s life misery.

I have a plan.

As he gets up to use the restroom, I spot a can of Ajax sitting on the window sill, conveniently next to his seat, taunting me.

I’ve never killed anyone before, I was nervous.

Yet amply ready.

I’ll never forget when I first moved to LA ten years ago and, at a pool party at my apartment building, I made the joke “I killed a man once”, lowering my voice for dramatic affect.

“REALLY??” gasped my current roommate.

Surprised anyone took me seriously, I told him I was kidding.

“You have a SICK sense of humor” he said, disgustingly.

Everyone at the table laughed, including myself.

Now, I was about to take the leap and cause the death of a human being.

And was more concerned about finishing my meal, than finishing him.

As I pointed out the window, yelling “Look Mary, you’re getting a parking ticket” and everyone looks away from the table, I dump a large portion of Ajax into his Soy Tikka Massala and quickly mix it in.

At first I’m concerned he’ll feel the grit and then I realize the entire dish is gritty, so I’m promptly relieved.

When Jerk arrives back from the bathroom (and I feel my own stomach begin to gurgle) he dives into his bleachy last meal.

I begin to sweat as I chow down on my veggie meatball Korma, and it’s not just that it was spicy.

Before I know it, he’s finished his bowl and begins to cough and spit.

And, of course, dies.

The ambulance arrives about 20 minutes later, futilely attempting to resuscitate Jerk.

No one suspects a thing, thankfully.

As we are led away from the now closed Bawarchi, in tears, I decide that I will never kill again.

Unless that person decides to mock Bun Boy.

And P.S.

If you believe my blog has “jumped the shark”, then you are ABSOLUTELY CORRECT!

Bawarchi 002

10408 Venice Blvd
Culver City, CA 90232
(310) 836-8525


  • April 9, 2010 10:46 am

Xian 002

I attended the taping of a PBS special last night at the Palladium Theater in Hollywood.

Diane Warren, one of the most successful songwriters ever, created this new musical due called Due Voci.

And it was pure and utter torture.

First of all, half of the audience were winners of a radio station contest. Heavyset winners. The three that sat in front of us each took up two seats (I’m not exaggerating, but the seats were pretty small)

Anyway, that radio station is KOST 106.5.

Strike one.

Music so dull, it’s not even allowed in nursing homes.

We walk into the auditorium, after getting our free tickets and a green wristband.

I must find out what this wristband means! They didn’t check our ID, so it’s not for drinking.

And half the audience has blue wristbands.

I spend the next 10 minutes assuming we’re hot shit.

I stop a 3 foot tall PA, with 27 important looking lanyards dangling around her neck.

“Yeah, the blue is for the KOST VIP and the green is just general audience.”


We look up and see laughing, loud patrons drinking and eating in the above mezzanine.

We must get up there. I need free hummus and pita chips!

Eventually, after finding someone we knew and realizing we didn’t have special seats, we snuck past the theater security guy and get our free hummus and pita chips. Sorry, I mean chip, that’s all that was left.

So, the show starts. Diane messes up a 100 times and has to redo her intro.

Besides introducing her babies (Due Voci or whatever) to the world for the first time, the point of the show is also to have famous artists sing the songs that Diane wrote for them.

Leanne Rimes comes out and sings “How Do I Live”

Diane writes love songs. Catchy as hell songs. I hate long songs.

Toni Braxton comes out and mimes her way through “Unbreak My Heart”

I begin to squirm. This is becoming too much.

We soon find out that Cher and Celine Dion had taped their segments so they won’t be showing up.

Fantasia comes out and sings some god awful song! I mean SCREACHES. Lordy lordy.

Due Voci finally comes out.

They are dressed like soap opera characters going to a costume ball. They stroke each other as they belt out their easy listening musical theater numbers and my mouth begins to fill with vomit.

Neither my host nor I can bear this pain a minute longer, she excuses herself to use the restroom and I join her a minute later.

We sat in the back so we wouldn’t be filmed just in case we had to escape.

The best decision we ever made.


I ordered the extremely healthy Xian Chopped Salad. Broccoli, cabbage and snow peas diced up and tossed. Upscale Chinese. Great service.

362 N Canon Dr
Beverly Hills, CA 90210
(310) 275-3345


  • April 8, 2010 8:09 am

The Main Course 001

Last night, I was walking to my car to drive to the gym. I noticed a family standing dangerously close to the vehicle, the youngest member playing with my dangling side mirror.

I walk up and unlock the car, which sounds a tiny, feminine alarm beep.

I shoot the kid a friendly, wide-eyed stare.

The child continues twisting and turning my mirror while the mother is entrenched in a conversation with a neighbor about turkey breast.

Quite perturbed, I look at the child and in a hyper-friendly voice, I squeak “Uh Oh!”

(Yes, he was that young)

As the meat loving mother continues her diatribe, I walk over to the child, physically remove the mirror from his hand while he mumbles “Is this your cah?”

“Yes, it is.”

FINALLY the mother comes over to him and says “Listen, do you hear what he’s saying?”

What I’m saying?? You should be the one stopping him from dismantling strange vehicles, lady!!

My car is ghetto enough, I feel like the poor thing just had its testicles twisted!

I’m sure I will be punished later when it stalls at a light or let’s out an embarrassing squeal as I turn a corner. Who knew power steering fluid could be so vital?


OK, the meatloaf sammie above was enormous and the decor was so atrocious, I needed to say something!

Every square inch of The Main Course is splattered in mural. Sandy beach on one side and a happy, pink and orange village on the other. It was nauseating.

The vibe was the backroom of an oppressed Eastern European home in 1984 trying desperately to brighten up their weary, every-move-watched life.

It’s a strange place, you gotta check it out.

No Title

  • April 7, 2010 9:50 am

On my way to the bank this morning, I walked by a bush, grabbed a few leaves and thought quietly to myself: “If I get at least three whole leaves, I’m gonna be rich soon.”

Looking at my hand, I see two partial leaves. Damn! I let the remnants fly from my grasp just as I knew my future riches had disappeared as well.

I make lots of stupid wishes throughout the day via the strangest rituals.

Besides making a wish every time the clock strikes 11:11, I also make a wish right before driving through a traffic light about to change. If it stays green, the wish will come true.

If it turns yellow as I pass under it, my life is utterly doomed.

I have no clue why I do this, I’m 85% rational. I don’t know why I fall prey to the other side of me, the other side that rushes to my online horoscope to logically find out what really is the deal with my love life.

My mother has force fed me my horoscope, my entire life.

“Oh, I don’t believe that stuff at all. But this says big changes are coming this year…”

For Christmas, my mother took my sister and I to an elderly psychic. We had our tarot cards read and had our aura photographs taken.

Christmas 2007 - Seattle 012

What every child dreams of Christmas Eve. But it was so much fun!

When I was given my own set of tarot cards one Christmas, I became the hit of every party. Taking out my Egyptian themed magical muses and telling a bunch of drunk people things I already knew about them.

“You’re afraid to open up to people” to the shy girl or “I see you clutching a toilet bowl very soon.”

When I was young and my feet were firmly planted in the supernatural world, I read that crows symbolize death.


I can’t look at them know and think anything else. I guess it makes sense, I see crows everywhere and death is everywhere.

The week before a good friend died of cancer, I was greeted by crows every day before my morning jog.

It was eerie. I actually forgot that silly superstition until my friend died a few days later.

I’m a sensibly cynical person. Why do I hold on to these ridiculous rites?

Perhaps, it’s because I believe it’s dangerous to remove all the mystery from life. I think the unexplained and the secrets hiding in the cracks are the “11 secret herbs and spices” to life.

Without them, our life would be the equivalent of feasting on a Cup of Noodles without the salty flavor packet!