We gratefully acknowledge the original 'Disapproving Rabbits' website, that inspired this site, and its creators, Sharon, Bill, Cinnamon, and Dougal. Without you, we would not be here. We Approve Of You!

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Sunday, July 31, 2016

Mr. Bun Update

Where's that salad! 

Yes, I'm expecting a proper salad, that's yammeh and served in a snappeh manner!

The good news is, all system are running OK. No sores, scabs or irritation to worry about. However, there's going to be a bum baf, sigh. And snorgles! I've been getting lots and lots of snorgles.

Hoomin says he has a question, though. The series 'The Disapprovers' is slowly winding down. "Slowly" is the key word here. He's on to putting together the last section. It will be two, maybe four episodes long at the most.

Would you care for any more "bun fiction" on Saturdays? He's thinking about short-short stories, self-contained, about 800 to 2000 words long. The theme would be "X plus Bun", named after the old time radio sci-fi series "X Minus One".

 It a tough question, because bun servants are a kind lot to begin with, so the honest, constructive critique might be difficult to extract. Keep in mind that this blog is for you to enjoy.

- Mr. Bun

Saturday, July 30, 2016

The Disapprovers - Animus

Last Week on the Disapprovers: The crew mourns and copes with the loss of Zeus, one of the founding members of the Disapprovers.
I woke up early and was rearing to go. To my surprise, my head decided to cooperate, even after all of the excessive beveraging and carrotinizing the previous night. I was nervously chewing a hay twig, waiting for the hoomins to finish their routine, morning reenactment of the Les Busnserables and get out the door. I had a hard time keeping still. One of my personal mission rules is to stare down the hoomins with disapproval until I can't see the whites of their eyes before I move.
Mr. Toes & Abby Penny & Ava
Once they were gone, I darted over to Abby, and we both went to see Freddie. We reviewed all of the requisite coordinates and data for our vacation's "dry run." Abby and I came up with the idea to create a memory burrow to make it easier to remember all of the details accurately and to have them easily accessible for Singularia. I know, hoomins would make a memory palace, but when you're a bunneh, a regal and down-to-earth creature, a good burrow will suffice; you don't need a palace to house your ego.
Right at the entrance to the burrow, I placed the necessary coordinates of our location; further down went the functions calculating the precise position of our vacation spot. Farther down yet, I set the probabilities of sudden fluctuations in the behavior of the earth's magnetic field.
When we prepared the calculations for this endeavor, we considered the possible effects of small clumps of various minerals striking our temporary home at high velocity. We concluded that the tiny ones would have a negligible effect, and we were not aware of any large ones destined to be anywhere near us. We agreed that if any such objects were to cross our path, we would abort the mission and try again later.
Afterward, we suited up, packed some snacks, water, a couple of bottles of compressed air and headed for the basement. Singularia tickled my lobes for a moment, trying to peruse my memory burrow. She was surprised when she put it all together and asked if we were sure about this. Then, I surprised myself. I have to admit that, for a moment, I second guessed myself.
Molly Mr. Toes
Yes, we were sure, and we were ready. Abby and I closed our eyes.
I saw Abby's feet, right in front of me. I was floating, suspended in mid-air, upside down relative to her and slowly turning to my left. We were in an empty storage compartment. In a few days, this spot would be filled with items arriving on a re-supply flight. That's why we were trying to get done with our simulations early. This compartment was the perfect spot for a remote port.
As I turned and faced the opening of the chamber again, my heart almost froze. I saw two hoomins in the primary structure, floating by. One was looking through a camera, pointing it at the other hoomin. That one was talking about something, promising to show everybun how going to the bathroom is done. She gesticulated a lot, and her hair was standing straight up as if she were electrified. They are a strange lot, those hoomins. My pulse started returning to normal. I was so glad to be going through this in preview mode.
I told Abby that I was going to try that air bottle. It was velcroed to the front of my vest. I pointed it as straight ahead as I could and pressed it tight against my chest. I hoped that when I released a burst of air, the line of thrust would go directly through my center of mass. If I didn't, I would go anywhere but where I wanted to go. I pressed the little trigger, and the bottle hissed as it gave up some air under high pressure. I floated backward with a slight turning motion to my left. "Not bad for the first time!" I thought and adjusted which way the nozzle of the bottle pointed and gave it another squeeze. I moved much faster this time. I hit a wall behind me and bounced hard. I tried to turn around, puffing the bottle to the side, but instead went into a spin and kept tumbling. I was about to float out of our little hideout.
Ava & Penny Abby & Mr. Toes
I looked for something I could grab. I felt Abby's paw snatch my foot and slow me down a little. We floated together again until we bounced into another wall. I reached out and clenched my paw on some colored cables fastened to the middle of the wall. Or was it a floor or maybe a ceiling? I couldn't tell. This "room," or module, had a square cross section and was rather long.
I always wondered what would it be like to play a "fly on a wall," and now I knew. I was a bun on a wall, and I loved it! I had to take a moment to come down and to let myself become rational again. Right below me, a hoomin was floating by with a big tray of something that looked like lettuce and flowers. Lettuce and flowers, here? I watched her and made a mental note where she disappeared with the tray. Abby and I looked at each other and grinned. We would visit here again, properly and in person. We stayed in that spot for a while, watching the hoomins, listening to the noise this strange home made almost continuously. The simulation was so real; I felt my head getting a bit puffy from the increased flow of fluids to my head. We sounded nasal as well. I was pretty sure I would be sore the next day from all my bouncing off the walls.
Abby & Pancake Penny
Next, we decided to try crawling along the walls of this much bigger compartment. I found myself tempted to go and explore the place instead of working on our plan. We were supposed to practice moving about to test the air bottles as a means of propulsion.
I looked at Abby with a grin and said: "We have to stop goofing off." She only gave me a frown as she floated by. She grabbed some handle and stopped, turning toward me. "We have to get our practice in," I said, trying hard to sound serious. I could barely keep myself from busting up with laughter. I couldn't keep a straight mouf. Neither could Abby. "At least we have to give it a try," some overly responsible part of me took over my mouf and tried to implore her and me. "Of course, Commander." Abby grinned as she turned herself around to face the wall and let out a tiny puff of air from her bottle. She went by me, very slowly, waving politely, like the proper queen that she is. I was impressed. She was in full control of her movements and trajectory. I tried to do the same and practiced until my air bottle was empty.
Mr. Toes
I was getting hungry. We worked our way back to the storage compartment, and only then did we open our eyes. This exercise was the most fun we had playing in Singularia. I reached into a pocket on my vest, pulled out a biscuit, and took a bite of it. To my surprise, I could eat here. I nommed and gazed at Abby's sparkling, glowing outline. I watched her take a gulp from her water bottle. As I began to relax, I started to feel how much this workout took out of me. I was ready to go home and couldn't wait to "sleep on it," after a lengthy and detailed debriefing of course, but you already knew that.

Friday, July 29, 2016

Queen BunBun

Read my lips, that's not enough hay in my room!

- Thank you, Sophine!

PS: BunBun says, "I'm going to turn 9 this coming October."

Thursday, July 28, 2016


I know where you keep the treats!

- Thank you, Audrey!

PS: He sends his disapproval from the Rainbow Bridge. Binkie Free, Ollie <3

Wednesday, July 27, 2016


This is my deputy, J. Now you'll never be short on stone cold disapproval, hoomin.

- Thank you Ken and Kaci!

Tuesday, July 26, 2016


What do you want? No. Get your own box.

- Thank you, Melissa!

PS:Yes, folks, we're a bit low on disapproval. Have some to spare?   disapprovingbun@gmail.com or our FB page will do fine, and Jake will get a break! ;-)

Monday, July 25, 2016


Here, M*nd*y, that's what I think of you!

- Thank you, Gabrielle!

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Mr. Bun Update

Greetings, Everybun!

Salad with a nanner samich on top turned out very yammeh. We had parsley, basil, arugula, mint, dill, two slices of nanner and a bit of raspberry with timothy hay croƻtons. And how was your salad?

The froggy ensemble concert got rained out last week, so we'll try again today.

We'll keep you posted.

- Mr. Bun

Saturday, July 23, 2016

The Disapprovers - Zeus

Last Week on the Disapprovers: The crew attempts to drop off the last group of rescuees at their shelter, but the facility is abandoned. The Disapprovers decide to bring home Penny, Ava, Lincoln, Sammy and Quinn. They speculate that the hoomins will adopt them and are proven correct.
Ava and Penny were settling in just fine. They hit a snag a couple of weeks into their new lives when the shock and upheaval of the bust started to dissipate. Their emotions bubbled up, and they struggled to reconcile their new surroundings and reality with how they had started in life. Why would something good happen to them, just like that, out of the blue? Pancake turned the argument on its head and asked them why would something so horrible have happened to them - like going to a lab - right after they were born? They talked, and we listened. I tried to keep them busy with Abby's and my upcoming excursion, our little 'vacation'. I thought that a bit of 'occupational therapy' would do them - and us - some good.
Ava & Penny
Zeus had finished the plans for the jetpack prototype, and we were scratching our ears over how to translate his blueprints into reality. Of course, we didn't really have any 'real' blueprints, so no trees died for this exercise. But we stared at the laptop, pondering his CAD. The concept was solid, but coming up with the materials to pull it off would take a lot of hard work and conniving.
Freddie Molly & Pancake
Then, one morning, Zeus didn't show up. We thought he was sleeping in because he had stayed up late working on the CAD drawings. That was not the case. Freddie said old age got to Zeus; he was at the rainbow bridge now. We were stunned. We knew he had lived the very best life a ratty like him could have lived, and we were glad that he had seen the bust through to completion, but that only intensified my feelings of loss. I felt sad for poor Freddie. He lost two of his best friends within such a short period of time. We didn't let him hang out alone.
I finally broke down one evening and asked Izzy to print out a profile view of the jetpack plan. I sat looking at the fresh printout. I sniffed it, and it reminded me of a new book, fresh off the press. I even took a bite of the sheet. It tasted like - well - like paper. Your average, cheap, twenty-pound stock. I wish it had been a real piece of drafting paper, with sharply engraved pencil lines and eraser smudges. I wished it had a real, hand-drawn signature from Zeus. I kept staring at the fine lines, delicate arrows, and measurement markings. I loved it as a piece of art.
Abby & Mr. Toes Pancake
I dropped a big, fat raspberry into my carrotini. It splashed, and a few drops landed on the paper, quickly soaking in. Something wet and salty fell out of my eye and smeared the drawing even more. I took a quick, hard gulp of my carrotini and almost choked swallowing the raspberry. To be honest, I didn't care for the design of the rig. I just missed the banter with Zeus about it. The marrow in my old, creaky bones, missed the comfort of spending time with an old friend.
I was grateful that everybun let me be with my thoughts for awhile; no bun tried to cheer me up.
Later on, Ava and Penny grabbed the drawing and put forth an argument about how most of it could be done. They were right, but I didn't say anything.
Right then, I envied Penny and Ava. To them, Zeus was one of the crazy ratties that created the little tornado of ours — the bust from the lab. They probably couldn't tell Zeus from Izzy or Lincoln. They knew we had lost a dear friend and were very respectful of that, but they didn't have the bond with Zeus that grew over time and got stronger with every step through the adventure. Now, I thought that they were very lucky, indeed.
Abby & Mr. Toes Zeus
A couple of days later, I decided that we weren't going to build a jetpack. I would want it to be perfect, but now, I thought that we didn't have the time to finish it and to make it perfect. I asked Freddie if we could reuse some of the parts from the design, such as the anchor gun, which is a small, pistol-like gizmo that would shoot a small grapple hook on a string. It is used, you know, to tow yourself if you are stuck, floating, in the middle of a "room." "What about a small bottle of compressed air?" I asked. Frankie wasn't too crazy about that but, in the end, said, "If you can work your way back to the port, that's all that matters." We compromised and decided to visit Singularia and go on our "vacation" in the preview mode first. He was happy with that. Or, maybe, he didn't feel like arguing with me.
That night, another nasty, winter storm was rolling through, and snow was piling up, trying to swallow the house. The lights went out, and the house became absolutely quiet, except for the grunts of the gas furnace. We called it a night, and I snrugled up to Abby under a double blankie. Our hoomins would be staying home tomorrow, and I couldn't wait for the day-long cuddles.

Friday, July 22, 2016


I don't know; if the bum's not listening, try the foot.

- Thank you, Melissa!

Thursday, July 21, 2016


I'm still waiting for my nanner! It's not going to grow legs to get here, you know!

- Thank you, Kaitlen!

PS: Follow Malcolm on FB at https://www.facebook.com/Mr.BeansandMalcolm/

Wednesday, July 20, 2016


That's a good question, hoomin! What have you done??

- Thank you, Monica!

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Gilbert and Tilly

I will keep out the hoomins so you can disapprove in peace!

- Thank you, Mike!

Monday, July 18, 2016


Top of the M*nd*y morning to you, hoomin. What are those 'carrotinis' I keep hearing about?

- Thank you, Ken and Kaci!

PS: Ken spotted the fellow around Wichita, Kansas. Could it be that the wildebuns disapprove due to the scarcity of carrotinis in the wild?

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Mr. Bun Update

Greetings Everybun!

Hoomin says the best part of the week was evening snorgles with me, napping and listening to a book about rockets and space, and stuff. I did the napping; hoomin did the listening, and all worked out very well.

The agenda for today is all about me. Clean up, perhaps a new bundo, then an evening concert outside, under the bamboo canopy - the frogs and crickets are putting on a show.

I'm hearing he's working on a new salad for me and naner slices with raspberry 'samich'.

- Mr. Bun

Saturday, July 16, 2016

The Disapprovers - Welcome Home

Last Week on the Disapprovers: Everybun catches a breather after the evacuation of critter from the lab. They gather in the wreckage, next to Singularia, regroup and decide how to proceed next.
The abandoned shelter felt creepy. It was the last one on the list, the last drop-off, a drop-off I was not happy to make. I had hoped that we would turn around and go home. I thought we had to re-group at least. Penny and Ava looked very pensive. Pancake looked at Abby and me and asked, "Shouldn't we just go back home? We tried, but this is beyond our control." Abby agreed, and Molly did too. We were headed back home with Penny, Ava, Sammy, Lincoln, and Quinn. "They are staying with us, then?" I said, not really sure if I was asking, stating, or begging. "Yes, what did you think?" whispered Abby. Penny binkied. That little bunlett sure had a spring in her jump. We were glad to leave the soulless husk of the old building flooded with the ghoulish, yellow light of sodium-vapor street lamps bleeding in from the outside.
Molly & Pancake
Now, the only thing left was to let our hoomins find the bunch waiting somewhere to be rescued. After a short deliberation, we decided the easiest thing to do would be to let hoomins "find" our friends waiting outside, by the door. Freddie went looking for a little earpiece for Ava so we could give them the "heads-up" once our hoomins were on the move.
Abby Ava
Waiting until then, we got caught up on all the news we've been missing. Izzy found some archive clips of news coverage of our "doctor" getting arrested. There wasn't much. They showed the doc getting hauled away during the gray hours of yesterday's morning. The closed circuit TV was much more entertaining. We watched the deputies and federal agents scratching their heads and wondering why the cages in the lab were filled with plush toys. Who knows, maybe that made our doc look like he tried to conceal even more evidence than he already did? Is there a little more prison meatloaf heading his way because of that? I sure hope so. You know, there's little or no meat in "prison meatloaf," right? It's mostly stuffing made of cardboard, bugs and old axle grease; that's what Freddie had said. Yum!
To my dismay, but not a surprise, the remaining coverage of the event was indeed solid, very solid. Our piece was immediately followed by and got buried under some mindless drivel, never to see the light of day again, left to decompose in viewer's memories and to sublimate into oblivion. In the "short span of attention nebula" where most hoomins exist these days, bits like our bust don't last. Izzy closed the lid of the laptop.
Mr. Toes & Abby Molly & Pancake
We knew that expecting anything else would make the letdown feel even worse, but we let ourselves hallucinate that "this time it would be different." I had to keep in mind all the critters that had a real chance at life and ignore that what we've done does nothing for the networks.
Izzy turned to me and said, "Look, Major, this thing went down just as it was supposed to. We didn't draw to ourselves any attention; everything happened 'under the radar,' and that's what makes it possible for those critters to have a fresh start in life. If you think that a cataclysmic change would do anybun any good, you would be in for a nasty surprise. The question now is, what do we do next? What do all those critters do next?"
I nodded.
Penny ∧ Ava Quinn Abby & Mr. Toes
When I turned around, I noticed that it was just me moping around. Everybun else was busy showing Penny and Ava around. We followed everybun else around the house and watched Penny and Ava try to keep their eyes from popping out. They couldn't believe the setup they were joining.
The time came for them to line up outside. Freddie fitted Ava with a tiny earpiece, and we helped them get outside with their "care package." Pancake gave them tips on making the proper pouty faces. They lined up, and our hoomins were ready to rumble out of the house. Just in time too because it had started to rain, and the rain was turning into freezing sleet.
The ruckus started. The first hoomin stepped outside and started squealing about the little zoo patiently sitting by the door, cold and wet by now. The second hoomin ran downstairs and joined the festivities. They began to argue about who would stay and improvise some accommodations for the new-found orphans. The dude hoomin lost and shuffled off to the tar pits. Somehow, they never stopped to think how come they didn't have to chase this particular bunch. Usually, our hoomins assemble an entire chase party to corner some fluffy soul abandoned somewhere in a park.
Mr. Toes
We watched, pretending to be curious and anxious, maybe a little bit concerned. The hardest part was trying to keep a straight mouf through all that. Penny and Ava got their little pens, spare pads, food, and water. Ratties moved into condos of their own.
Finally, once our hoomin made it out the door, I allowed myself to call the bust complete.

Friday, July 15, 2016


I stand my ground and am telling you all to have a Happy Friday.

- Thank you, Mellissa!

PS: Follow Camilla and Sweeney on FB at