Jasmine was right. He was indeed a kind and jolly fellow matched with a quick wit and a self-deprecating sense of humor. Jundy was married last year, and was enjoying a delayed honeymoon in Palawan at the time of his heart attack.

He worked in various restaurants and hotels before becoming Executive Chef for Unilever. He was also consultant, I believe, at Heaven and Eggs. Now, he only has Heaven.

Jundy, dear buddy, save some for me. You will be missed.

Mon

Your post does remind me of this internet joke many of you might be familiar with.

Marty & Jane were driving home after an expensive – yet bland – dinner. Since Marty’s minor heart attack 15 years ago, Jane had kept her hubby on a strict, low sodium, low fat, low cholesterol diet, depriving him of all the foods he loved.

As Marty turned the corner at a busy intersection, another car slammed into theirs, killing Marty & Jane instantly.

St. Peter greeted the couple at the Pearly Gates and took them on a tour of Heaven. Their first stop was a luxury mansion: “Your new home,” St. Peter told them.

Looking at the expensive marble floors, Marty asked, “How much is this going to cost us?”

“Nothing,” St. Peter replied. “Everything is free in Heaven.”

Next, they visited their new championship-style golf course.

“This is your private golf course,” St. Peter said. “It changes daily, representing the greatest golf courses on Earth.”

“What are the green fees?” Marty asked.

“This is Heaven,” St. Peter said. “You play for free, my friend.”

Then they went to the clubhouse and saw a lavish buffet made from the best cuisine Earth had to offer.

“How much to eat?” Marty asked.

St. Peter replied, “My friend, don’t you understand yet? This is Heaven – it’s all free!”

“I see,” Marty said, scratching his chin. “Tell me, is that meal low sodium, low fat and low cholesterol?”

“No,” St. Peter said. “And that’s really the best part: You can eat as much as you like, of whatever you want, and never get fat or sick. This is Heaven!”

With that, Marty pitched a fit: He tossed his halo on the floor and took the Lord’s name in vain (several times, in fact).

“Marty!” Jane cried. “What’s wrong?”

Marty glared at his wife. “What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong! If it wasn’t for your daggone bran muffins, I could have been here fifteen years ago.