Tuesday's Fortune: 18 September 2012

MEAL:  1 large order Moo Goo Gai Pan = $7.95 + $1.05 tip

Hotcha!  Hank

Tuesday's Fortune: 10 July 2012

MEAL:  2 Vegetable Spring Rolls + 1 small order Sweet & Sour Chicken = $7.05 + 95¢ tip

Hotcha!  Hank

Something 4 The Weekend # 234

Sufjan Stevens: Enjoy Your Rabbit: "Year Of The Dragon" [mp3]

The Dragon Year is supposedly the luckiest year. Not just for Fire Horses like myself, but all of us - Wood Rabbits, Metal Monkeys, Earth Snakes, Water Dogs - all of us! Now I don't know about you, but I intend on taking advantage of this extra luck.

I've started playing the lottery. So far I'm down $7, but the Dragon Year is young and I haven't been to my usual gas station lately.

I'm playing in a high stakes poker game later this month at a supposedly haunted farm house on the outskirts of Baraboo. I've had pretty good luck with ghosts. And Baraboo.

I've also decided this is the year I accomplish three things - acquire a literary agent, finish and sell a short story collection, and finally rid the Maple tree in the front yard of fucking squirrels. I'm counting on that extra Dragon Luck to accomplish these things.

(There is no Year Of The Squirrel, and there's a damn good reason for that.)

A smaller goal might be to reinvigorate this blog in the following months. Or maybe start something new and different. But what?

In any event, I hope that you, dear reader, have a great Year Of The Dragon as well, and that all the fucking squirrels in your world are dead or dying.

In the meantime, enjoy your Sufjan Stevens song.

Hotcha! Hank

Tuesday's Fortune: 10 January 2012

MEAL: 2 Roast Pork Egg Rolls + 1 small order Pork Chow Mein = $6.55 + $1.45 tip

Hotcha! Hank

Tuesday's Fortune: 11 October 2011

MEAL: 1 big dish of Beef Chow Mein = $6.95 + $1.05 tip

Hotcha! Hank

Tuesday's Fortune: 30 August 2011

MEAL: 1 order (8) Crab Rangoon + 1 small order Curry Chicken = $8.00 + $2.00 tip

Hotcha! Hank

R.I.P. Eno The Cat

Eno the cat, the younger of my two cats, died yesterday, after 15+ years of fun and companionship.

I got him as a kitten in the spring of 1996 from a farm in Lake Mills that had more cats than it wanted or needed. When I saw him for the first time, he was walking on the back of a cow laying in a barn stall, and I was smitten. My pick of the litter was made for me, because really, how can anyone deny a cat who walks on cows?

Eno was a large kitten that became a very large cat - 21 pounds of cat, in fact, when he was weighed at the veterinarian earlier this year. He was large, but never fat - fairly tall, and rather long, with plenty of muscle underneath his long and luxurious black and white coat. Despite his size, Eno never lost his tendency to climb big, dumb animals. I don't think a day went by that he didn't climb all over me. Half the time I found this quite hilarious, half the time I found it annoying, quite frankly. You ever try reading Lem novels with a 21 pound cat trying to balance on your shoulder while pawing at your hands and the turning pages?

Eno was a vocal cat. Every evening when I got home from work he and I would talk about our days while I washed the dishes or prepared dinner. I have absolutely no idea what the fuck he was saying, but he always sounded happy and rather pleased with himself, so I always figured he was cool, I was cool, and we were cool. He also liked to sit on the back of the couch and watch the world outside the living room window. More specifically, he liked to "chitter" at the birds and rabbits. Yes, the birds and rabbits, and even that groundhog that took residence next door for the better part of 2007, but never the fucking squirrels. Eno understood the score with the squirrels, and he feared and loathed them with the same kind of passion that I do. He did. I know he did. Yes.
..........

I won't recall to you the details of Eno's last day, except to say that it all happened rather fast. He went from sick to gone in less than 24 hours, and when he took a sudden turn for the worse at about 2 am yesterday, I knew that he wasn't long for this world, and the best I could do was be near him, talk to him, and hope he wasn't in too much pain.

He took his last, labored breath at about 6am yesterday morning, and it was heartbreaking to actually witness. The finality of it, his sudden absence, was and remains surreal to me. Less than 24 hours earlier he was headbutting me awake and crawling on my back.

15 years together that started and ended with him crawling around on the back of a big, dumb animal that just wanted to sleep.

It was a fun and interesting 15 years, and I will miss him more than I thought I could, and more than he'll ever know.

Rest in peace, Eno.

Hank

This Is What I Mean - An Anti-Squirrel Machine

Squirrel Attacking Residents Of Vermont Neighborhood

For years I've been sharing with you my fear/hatred of squirrels. I have warned you of their evil ways. They are black-hearted beasts who should be eradicated from this earth. If you think that's extreme, consider that the fucking squirrels want to do the same to us.

Check out the link above. The squirrel currently terrorizing Bennington, Vermont is not unique, it is simply doing what comes naturally to these adorably sinister predators. Rest assured, the squirrels in YOUR neighborhood are ruthless and deadly, and if you aren't vigilant, you might just find yourself mowing the lawn one beautiful June afternoon, when suddenly one of these deplorable creatures has dropped out of the maple tree, dug it's claws into your face, and is burrowing through your eye to get to the sweet brain meat within.

That is why you should ALWAYS wear your goggles.

Hotcha! Hank

Tuesday's Fortune: 15 February 2011

MEAL: 2 Roast Pork Egg Rolls + 1 small order Beef & Garlic = $6.45 + $1.55 tip

Hotcha! Hank

Tuesday's Fortune: 19 October 2010

MEAL: 3 Vegetable Spring Rolls + 1 small order Squirrel Fried Rice = $5.55 + $1.45 tip


Hotcha! Hank

Something 4 The Weekend # 184

The Mountain Goats: Heretic Pride: "Lovecraft In Brooklyn" [mp3]

Friends and casual readers of this blog are well aware of my deep and abiding hatred for fucking squirrels. They're vile vermin that would be hunted to extinction if this were a more perfect world. But most of you don't know that I also loathe chickens.

The year was 1987, and I was hanging out one Saturday afternoon at a friend's house. We were out in the yard, drinking malt liquor, smoking weed, and listening to Jethro Tull on a boombox. At some point I started playing catch with a football with my buddy's younger brother.

It's at this point in the story that I should mention that his family owned about a dozen chickens that they allowed to wander around their yard. I didn't loathe chickens at this point, but that was about to change.

My buddy's younger brother threw the ball way over my head, so I turned around to run and fetch it, and it was at this point that one of the chickens fluttered and flopped and flew straight into my face without warning.

Now, some of you might be saying right now, "but Hank, chickens can't fly," to which I can only reply, "yeah, they sorta can, you dumbasses." Chickens can get themselves airborn for short distances, which they often do in the wild to check out their surroundings. I bet you also didn't know that in the wild they usually roost in trees. How do you think they get up into those trees? Here's a hint - they don't climb 'em like fucking squirrels.

So, anyways, a big fucking chicken flies into my face, and I immediately crumple to the ground in exquisite pain, with blood spilling everywhere because the bird's beak had stabbed me in the forehead.

If the story ended here, we might be able to simply call this a random event, but the story doesn't end here because as I'm laying on the ground, writhing in pain and bleeding everywhere, several other chickens immediately attack me like a pack of ravenous wolves. Tiny wolves with feathers instead of fur, and beaks instead of fangs.

I admit that at this point I passed out, and you can call me a pussy if you must, but you weren't there.

When I came back into consciousness, there were cuts and scratches all over my body, and my clothes were tattered and torn, with random feathers stuck to the drying blood. I wept softly. My buddy's younger brother was bawling. My buddy was laughing. The chickens had retreated to the area behind their garage.

A lesser man would fear chickens after such an incident, but I am not a lesser man. I am a great man, and I did what only a great man would and could do - on that day I started to loathe, nay hate, chickens, and twenty-three days later, my hatred for them still abides, and each and every Saturday since, I've eaten a 10-pack of McNuggets with honey mustard dipping sauce.

Never forget.

Hotcha! Hank

Tuesday's Fortune: 08 June 2010

MEAL: 1 order Empress Chicken = $8.55 + $1.45 tip


Hotcha! Hank

Things I Liked Last Week 050210

01: Owls. As much as I fear and loathe squirrels, I trust and adore owls. Owls let you know when bad shit is afoot in yr back yard in the middle of the night. Owls also hunt and eat varmints like mice and voles. Some of the bigger owls eat squirrels. I love those owls the most. Now that spring is here, I've been sleeping at night with the windows open, and it would seem there is an owl living in one of the back yards on my block. I like this.

02: Scorpions: "Robot Man" [mp3] There's a theory floating around out there called "option paralysis", the idea that as we are given more and more choices, the harder and harder it becomes for us to make a choice, and that when a person is ultimately faced with unlimited choices, s/he is unable to make a choice at all. Now, I have a very large music collection on my hard drives, and with every passing month or year, with every new album folder of mp3s ripped or downloaded, it becomes harder and harder for me to choose what to listen to. Sure, new releases and acquisitions get a fair hearing or three, but in general, I have a hard time deciding what to listen to on any given day, and so often I just hit RANDOM on my MediaMonkey Player, and resign myself to the software's choices, rather than deal with my own brand of option paralysis. Anyways, last Wednesday the Scorpions' In Trance crossed my path, the first time I've heard the album in years. As much as the Scorpions began to disappoint me in the 1980's, their early years, those first five or six albums fucking ruled, and this one might be the best of the bunch.

03: My Alfredo Sauce Recipe: In a large saucepan over medium-high heat, add 1/3 cup BUTTER, 5 cloves MINCED GARLIC, 5 MINCED SCALLIONS, 1/4 cup FLOUR, 1/3 cup MUSHROOMS. Sautee until scallions are translucent and soft and any flour lumps are melted away, adding 1/4 cup wine (optional) in the last minute or so. Then slowly whisk in 2 cups HEAVY CREAM and 1 cup WHOLE MILK, 1/2 tsp NUTMEG, 1/2 tsp BLACK PEPPER. Continue stirring until everything is warm and smooth, then begin stirring in 3/4 cup grated PARMESAN CHEESE, and 1/4 cup RAY ROMANO CHEESE. Keep stirring until it's 100% hot and luscious. Serve with FETTUCINI, or my preferred SPAGHETTI noodles. I also like using this sauce with pan-seared SCALLOPS, and lately I've been throwing the dish (pasta, sauce, scallops) under the broiler in the oven at the end to make it absolutely golden.

04: Modern Family: In it's first season, this ABC comedy has been hitting on all cylinders from the very start. It has a wonderful cast of great characters, but my favorite has to be Cam (played by Eric Stonestreet), the flamboyant half of the show's gay couple. In this clip, he's trying out for the rock band led by his partner's niece's boyfriend, and it illustrates some of the great, understated comedy that runs throughout the show.

05: This. Sometimes, when I'm trying to work on Kieth The Perpetual Teen™ and I get stuck, I like to take other people's comic strips and write my own dialogue or captions, like I did with this Far Side™ cartoon. It's juvenile, yes, but I think it works.


06: This Jim Jarmusch quote [click to enlarge]: I've long been in agreement with Shakespeare that there is "nothing new under the sun", a phrase he took directly from Ecclesiastes in the Bible. I'm also reminded of Pablo Picasso, who once said "good artists copy, great artists steal".

Hotcha! Hank

Something 4 The Weekend # 159

Fang Island: Fang Island: "Welcome Wagon" [mp3]

It's officially spring, and like evil fucking clockwork, the squirrels are back, traipsing around the yard like they own it. And as I like to do every spring, I'm welcoming the squirrels back in a fun and exciting way. This year, I'm lacing a pecan pie with LSD and setting it out on my front porch. If I know these squirrels (and I do), they're gonna scarf that pie, and then I'm going to sit at my living room window and watch 'em all lose their minds. I'm gonna laugh, eat some Choco Tacos, maybe take some pictures, and listen to this Fang Island album because it's the sound of absolute triumph.

Hotcha! Hank

Something 4 The Weekend # 140

Mekons: Retreat From Memphis: "Lucky Devil" [mp3]

There was a time, about a decade ago, when I had this reoccurring dream about being manhandled by Sally Timms in my dad's garage. She had me on my knees with a handful of hair, forcing my face between her legs. Because this was a dream, there were three squirrels sitting on the workbench, watching the action like they were judging us...me.

Fucking squirrels - even in my dreams they're the enemy!

Anyways, I had this dream three times, according to my notes, but I have no idea why. Sally Timms has never intrigued me, sexually or otherwise, and The Mekons are a fine, respectable band, but one I've never slobbered over, so to speak.

I mean, those filthy dreams involving Kim and Kelley Deal in a bathtub are understandable...Or the many glorious nights spent in a Winnebago with The Donnas - I get that...

And I even get those fucking squirrels. But Sally Timms? Hm...

According to my notes, she didn't care about my safeword.

Hotcha! Hank

Tuesday's Fortune: 31 March 2009

MEAL: 1 Vegetable Spring Roll + 1 small order Cashew Chicken = $5.65 + $1.35 tip

Hotcha! Hank

[insert nuts pun here]

Today is Squirrel Appreciation Day. Can you believe this shit?


It's an annual holiday started in 2001 by a "wildlife rehabilitator" in North Carolina named Christy Hargrove. Eight years later, and a reported 87 million Americans celebrate the day by stuffing their cheeks full of peanuts and running around on rooftops. Or something.

I don't know. The whole thing is ridiculous. Squirrels are among the vilest creatures nature ever created. They are bloodthirsty, and they are cute, and they are among us. If I appreciate anything about squirrels, it is their ability to kill humans.

Fucking squirrels.

Christy Hargrove and the rest of you are DOOMED, and there you are, celebrating your destroyers.

Hotcha! Hank

On The Eighth Day Of Christmas

I give to thee...EIGHT AMAZINGLY ACCURATE PREDICTIONS FOR 2009 AND BEYOND...

[Wagering implied]

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

01: In defiant response to the passing of Proposition 8 in California, the Academy Of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences awards the Oscar for BEST ACTOR to Sean Penn for his portrayal of gay activist and politician, Harvey Milk in the film Milk. Sorry Mickey Rourke, although it's always an honor to even be nominated, isn't that what they say?

02: President Barack Obama is attacked by a gang of squirrels while taking a smoke break out in the White House rose garden...Secret Service agents are able to eliminate the small and furious attackers before the president is seriously hurt, but NOT before the entire scene is captured on a Sony DCR-HC62 MiniDV camcorder by a tourist from Houston, who's identity isn't coming to me at this time. This young man will become famous, however, when he sells the footage to YouTube for $600,000.

03: Paris Hilton will suddenly and unexpectedly marry David Lee Roth, and their honeymoon will be the basis for a reality show on VH1. The dynamite ratings will naturally lead to a second season, in which the couple record and album together and talk about having a baby...Paris wants a kid just like her old friend Nicole Ritchie, but it seems Diamond Dave's sperm aren't nearly as lively as they used to be...Stay tuned, babycakes, in Season Three we find out whether or not DLR has what it takes to knock up his all-American princess once and for all...

04: Spring flooding of the Mississippi River devastates farmland along the river, and in cities such as Dubuque and Burlington, Iowa, and St. Louis, Missouri...REO Speedwagon write and record a charity song about lost corn crops which fails to generate any interest among the general population.

05: The Carolina Panthers will defeat the Pittsburgh Steelers, 20 to 16 in Super Bowl XLIII at Raymond James Stadium in Tampa, Florida on February 1st, 2009. During Bruce Springsteen & The E-Street Band's halftime performance there will NOT be a wardrobe malfunction, however Clarence Clemons will purposefully whip out his dick on stage during "The Promised Land" portion of the second medley. A 3 second delay is enough to keep the footage off the air, but in March an unedited version starts showing up on P2P network filesharing sites, and soon becomes an internet sensation...Naturally Christian and Pro-Family groups are outraged, but the FCC has no idea who to sue.

06: In May, actor George Clooney is horribly disfigured in a freak deep-frying accident. A series of complicated facial-transplant surguries leave him looking like Kevin Spacey.

07: Sometime in the first half of 2009 this very HOT POOP blog will begin to use Google Adsense. As a result, I will make 16 cents a month from this site, and can finally put "professional blogger" on my business card.

08: Scientists in Finland will make the startling discovery that puppies cause cancer. Two months later the less-startling discovery will be made that those Finnish scientists were funded by Cat Fancy Magazine to try boosting their subscription base. Ultimately, however, they will be vindicated when several other unbiased scientific teams determine that yes, puppies do indeed cause cancer, as well as Type II Diabetes.

Hotcha! Hank

A Message To The People Of Stubbington, Hampshire

Are you people nuts?!? You don't stand around idly gawking in awe at a purple fucking squirrel! And you certainly don't name him "Pete"!! Yes, I realize this thing is hanging around the grounds of Meoncross School, and it's bad enough that the kids find him cute and harmless, but allowing them to name the nasty creature is only asking for true and lasting emotional trauma when this thing that they love and have humanized turns viciously on one of them, and trust me, this thing will...My point is, you never make friends with a purple fucking squirrel!!!

If you see a purple fucking squirrel you do two things...

FIRST - You run away as fast as possible without looking back. In this case, you close down that school immediately, lock it up, and then...

SECONDLY - You kill the damn thing. You don't even trap it, you kill it. In this case, the best marksmen on the local police force should use a 12 gauge shotgun with a full choke, and some 4 (or even 3) Buckshot...Yes, I know the common wisdom is using 5 or 6 shot, but this is a purple fucking squirrel, and you want him dead, in several large pieces, so have the constable use something meant for a much larger animal. If he uses the conventional 5 or 6 shot, you might as well just give all the kids at Meoncross some BB guns and let them take futile potshots at "Pete" from their classroom windows.

My point is - now is no time to be cute or conservative. Full-choke 12 gauge buckshot, right now. And after the marksmen is sure the thing is dead, have him blast the head one last time with a slug.

No mercy for purple fucking squirrels!!!!!

Hotcha! Hank

F$cking Squirrels

Some of you are probably already aware of my "problem" with squirrels. They are obnoxious little bullies who will not hestitate to fuck you up, if given the opportunity. For example, I have no doubt that moments after this photograph was taken, that little bastard started gnawing on this poor dude's jugular, and unless quick and extreme first aid was administered, this dude is dead. Squirrels will do that sort of shit, with no hesitation, like a little rabid ninja, or a furry mafia hitman.

Now, you may be wondering why I have misgivings about squirrels, so I'll tell you.

It all started once crisp, beautiful day in the autumn of 1982. My girlfriend at the time, Pamela, and I were taking a leisurely stroll through Kettle Moraine State Park, looking for a decent clearing in which to unleash our carnal desires upon each other, when suddenly and out of nowhere, I was hit in the head with a falling walnut. Pamela and I made nothing of it - nuts fall from trees all the time.

When a second walnut hit Pamela in the head a few moments later, we did make something of it, because c'mon - two walnuts hitting two different people directly on the noggin within seconds of each other isn't just a vagary of nature.

We both looked up, and what did we see? Three red squirrels sitting together on the same tree branch, about 30 feet above us. Moments later, a falling walnut hit me directly in the eye, and soon after that, several more walnuts started raining down upon us. These three squirrels were organized, and they were purposefully dropping walnuts on us for no good reason.

These three squirrels started chattering the way squirrels will do, and soon we realized that approximately two dozen squirrels had congregated in several different trees around us, and they all started dropping nutbombs on us.

We panicked and ran, and that was when we realized just how much danger we were in...

Not only were there dozens upon dozens of squirrels perched in the trees above the path we were travelling, dropping assorted nuts on us, but now there were a dozen or more squirrels chasing us down the path, only about 30-40 feet behind us, and slowly gaining...

At some point, Pamela tripped and fell. Almost immediately, those squirrels who were chasing us were upon her, biting her all over her body. She screamed in agony, and was bleeding everywhere. I tried most valiantly to get those rotten bastards off of her, swinging at them with my walking stick and kicking at them with my hiking boots., and even trying to punch them in their evil little faces. This, had little effect, and when they finally had enough of Pamela, they turned on me.

Pamela screamed "GET OUT OF HERE! SAVE YOURSELF!"

But of course, I was a gentleman, even at the age of 16, and I wasn't going to abandon her. And so I fought those furry little assholes off of me the best I could. I killed and maimed a few, sure, but they were definitely getting the better of me, and I was getting bitten all over my body, and believe me, it was the most excruciating pain I have ever felt.

Eventually I was able to fight off enough of the evil little dickwads that I was able to pull Pamela to her feet and carry her the best I could, and as fast as I could, down the wooded path, out of the forest, and back to our car in the parking lot.

We both collapsed against the car, and looked back towards the forest, where we saw a couple dozen squirrels, stained with our blood, sitting there neatly in a row on the edge of the trees, staring at us with their crazed little eyes.

I'm pretty sure they were laughing.

This was my first adversarial encounter with squirrels, but it certainly wasn't my last.

Fucking squirrels, man.

Hotcha! Hank