Road Trip!

Well, Celeste and I just returned from our friends to the South, with Hanz in tow.  Luckily the Mexican authorities didn’t want to stir up any trouble, so with a couple of Benjamin’s passed their way they were more than willing to hand over Mopey the Ferret without any questions.

Hanz, however, is slightly traumatized by the event and has been particularly solemn the past couple of days.  He just keeps his head hung low, and even the stewardess on the plane couldn’t get him to eat his complementary peanuts.  Any reference to “nuts” just pisses him off even further because it reminds him of Mr. Peanut the Squirrel, which has now become his arch nemesis.  It even states it on his driver’s license that his arch nemesis is Mr. Peanut.  He just has to send in the confirmation, and then they can battle freely in the streets.

I was surprised that the plane ride didn’t make him at least a tad bit happy because how often does Hanz get to wear his flying outfit from his Abercrombie & Fitch days?

Hanz in his Abercrombie & Fitch flight outfit

Anyhow, the only time he has perked up at all is when the in flight film happened to be “Evolution” starring Hanz’s beloved David Duchovny.  I think if he didn’t have David he would be Hanz the Comatose Ferret, instead of Hanz the Mopey Ferret.

Evolution starring David Duchovny

Ultimately, he’s decided to stay at our apartment once again.  I think his trust for us has been rebuilt since we came and rescued him from Mexico.  Also, Malicious Gorilla seems to comfort him.  As quiet as Malicious Gorilla is he seems to make Mopey the Ferret feel very at home.  I find them cuddling quite often when I get up in the night to head to work.

Hanz head is nestled tightly in Malicious the Gorilla’s forearm as he slowly rocks him to sleep.

Malicious the Gorilla and his comforting ways


I woke up this morning to find Mopey the Ferret and Malicious Gorilla gone!  My ’93 Protégé is missing as well, and the only thing to mark that they had even lived here is the large amount of feces in the closet where Malicious resides and a hastily scrawled note that reads, “Gone to Hollywood to meet David. ~Hanz”


Honestly, the only part that surprises me is that Malicious went with Hanz…hopefully they’re all right, but the hell how am I supposed to get to work now?

My '93 Protege

My Little Jester

So, today I had to take the day off in order to have my availability fully open to pick up Hanz from the local Renaissance festival in “Browne’s Addition.” He was very adamant about going to said festival and of course Hanz has yet to receive his driver’s license or learner’s permit even though I’ve practically thrown the DOL guide at him for months now. Inevitably I just piss off a ferret who already has anger issues and is the size of a primordial skunk. More often than not I get a pissed soaked, shredded DOL guide discretely hidden amongst my items…usually in my sock drawer or if I particularly make him angry in my lunch bag for work…

Nevertheless, in my slight fear of my ferret I ended up spending my Sunday waiting for a cell phone call with a picture of a ferret in a jester’s cap to pop up on my cell phone screen.

Mopey Ferret Dance in a War Dance

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After many wasted hours with my friend Mr. Mario, a couple of Cajun Top-Ramens, and a pint of my gorilla’s homemade beer from his closet of solitude distillery I ramshackle my way out to my ’93 protegé Johnny and sauntered my ass up to Coeur d’Alene park to pick Hanz from his afternoon of ye old jestering. Before I even reached the fringe of the park I see an angry mob of ye old peasants chasing after a tan ferret clutching his jester hat with a sad but still attached tail tucked between his well toned ferret buttocks. As I coasted by in 2nd, I reached over, popped open the passenger door, and a scared but fully aware ferret clawed his way in, slammed his door, and pulled his lap belt over his jester cod piece and plummage.

I tried asking him what had happen, but all I could gather between his labor breaths were the phrases, “bosomed wench” and “bad idea.”

I’m sure he’ll tell me once I loosen him up with a keg or two of malicious gorilla’s fine home spun brew, but till then only mopey ferret’s fellow renaissance patrons and a letter from the courts will know what happened that fateful Sunday afternoon….

Stoic and Downtrodden

I feel as if I’ve let my readers down by not divulging into the complex and sensitive nature of my gorilla’s psyche.

Without the gorilla…there would be no mopey ferret, and without the mopey ferret there would be no gorilla.

Therefore I present to you a small nugget of the intricate nature of the malicious gorilla who has assumed Prince’s neglected symbol.

My Stoic and Downtrodden Gorilla

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The Tale of a Liquored Up Ferret

Well, Hanz had his evening of ‘fun’  with Barb the Comcast hooker, and boy it did not play out how I expected it to…apparently Hanz is either confused upon his sexual preference or the hooker did something to traumatized Hanz to the point of fur raising.

I just don’t know what to do anymore…

Last night I got home from work after his botched hooker experience and I found a passed out ferret within the confines of my booze fridge…his fur was all matted and nappy like long-haired Dachshund, and he had finished off a whole fifth of Vodka and had popped off the top of my Captain Morgan’s spiced rum!  That little bastard almost drank me dry!

Upon gaining consciousness he threw up an old union bill and sauntered back into the closet of solitude where he proceeded to have a bonding moment with the gorilla or a mild molestation case ensued…either way the gorilla, as always, seemed to just stare straight ahead, unmoving, and stoic.

The next afternoon I took Hanz out for lunch hoping to at least gain some sort of understanding as to why he had, yet again, achieved a high level of mopiness; however, he just stood upon the table lapping up his beer with his whole head shoved in the mug just as stoic and silent as the malicious gorilla within my closet back at the apartment.

Hanz Drinking a Beer at a Luncheon

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As aforementioned…I’m just not sure what to do anymore…maybe I’ll contact a psychologist or check him into rehab if his dabble in alcohol continues to increase over the weeks.

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Comcast Is Offering Free Hookers

Our ferret, Hanz, is driving me up a wall!  He won’t stop trundling around the apartment knocking cups of coffee and lamps off the shelves because he’s to sad to even walk in a straight line…and, then when you do get him to look up at you his eyes are just swollen with tears and he immediately chokes up, and then proceeds to race off into the closet of solitude to weep his sad tears away into the gorilla formerly known as Prince’s fur.

So, in order to pick his spirits up, yet again I might add, I thought of this little dandy!  The other day the Comcast ‘dude’ came meandering through are apartment complex asking for money and weed for a signature, so we of course locked the doors and evaded his hoarse calls upon the poorly constructed apartment door until he fell back down the stairs to his next floor of victims.  After a quick peek through a crack in the door a Comcast business card could be seen hanging from the notice clip beside the jam with the words “Free Hookers” scrawled across the front.

Comcast Business Card Offering Free Hookers

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So, after mopey ferret decided to become…if this is even more possible…mopier?  I dug though our piles of mail and dredged up the sticky Comcast business card and gave it a jingle.  After a brief conversation, a twenty to grease the wheels, and several gross violations ‘Pita’ protocols I was able to have Comcast send over their finest ferret hooker.

Now, I am currently just politely waiting for a soft-pawed knock at my door, and hopefully by this evening Hanz by will be a little less mopey.  Word has it from the Comcast representative that the ferret hooker’s name is Barb and she comes with her own pack of cigarettes…good times indeed Hanz, good times indeed!

Everyone wish Hanz a good evening, and everyone else have a good morning because Hanz is gettin’ lucky!

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Pita does not equal P.E.T.A

Well, in lieu of our ferret being kicked out of his own union due to the fact that he fell madly behind on his dues has caused Hanz to fall into a deep, deep ‘pitt’ of despair.  However, even with his poor demeanor and his sullen attitude he managed to contact what he believed was the main headquarters of P.E.T.A., in order to force the union and his employer to create better working conditions, and maybe…quite possibly…eradicate his back union dues.

Although, his sad little ferrety heart was in the right place his mind just couldn’t comprehend the aromas that beseeched his little nostrils upon entering the local PIta Pitt on Hamilton.  After miming his woes to the Pita Pitt manager he simply shrugged his shoulders and sauntered back home with yet another failure under his belt.  Alas I don’t think he quite realized that Pita Pitt uses mostly ferret meat in their more meaty pitas, so it is perhaps fortunate, to say the least, that he was able to escape the confines of the establishment with his fleshyness upon his bones.    (What a meat bag.)

Nevertheless, mopey ferret…is still well mopey ferret…

Although in other news the gorilla has decided to adopt a name since we have been simply referring to him as “the monkey who most not be named.”  Instead of adhering to a more conventional name he’s opted to go by Prince’s old symbol…the symbol was also lonely since Prince decided to want a career again and the gorilla is obviously lonesome because well his only company is a maddened ferret who thinks himself an organizational genius as well as a 1940’s British officer of the law.

Anyhow, remember don’t defraud your ferret because he might become sad and resort to Pita Pitt for retribution, and always respect your captive gorilla by at the very least naming him.

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Instead of Sad Duck…it’s Mopey Ferret.

Apparently most of my ferret’s insurance money was taken from him by the very same union that he created because in the week’s time that the union has existed Hanz fell behind on his dues, and now owes his local F.U.C.K. Union $327,000.00…slightly less than what I owe to my own union, the U.F.C.W. 1437, but still aggravating nonetheless.

Now, because of this I have to deal with a suicidal ferret who won’t stop weeping and trying to raid my liquor cabinet.

Maybe he should take some mushrooms and play Mario…that might calm him down a bit.

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My Ferret, Hanz, has Decided to Unionize

As you may know I and my roommate Brad have recently purchased a Ferret, that we have faithfully named Hanz, that is the ‘guardian’ of our urine producing gorilla…well, it seems as if Hanz is quite upset with his absurdly low wage as well as his poor healthcare and retirement benefit packages, and has thus in his anger decided to unionize.

He’s spent the last few evenings within’ the closet of solitude devising logos, Powerpoint presentations, and false statistics to create a long and winded history of what he has dubbed the ‘Ferret Uniter for Caring Koalas,” more commonly known by their simplistic, yet profane acronym.

(Also, as an aside Hanz has the education of a 2nd Grader and therefore doesn’t realize that he is harboring a malicious gorilla, instead of a caring koala but that is besides the point)

He has now gone so far as to rent a venue for his union hearings in which he scurries to and fro from the podium in which he addresses the audience (himself) and the audience seats in which he poses questions about the union that he already knows the answer to.

As amusing as this is to me his ‘quality’ time with gorilla has immensely diminished, which greatly upsets me as his employer, so in a similar fit of rage that caused him to start his union, F.U.C.K., I burned his premises to the ground and pretended to make an insurance payout to him via mail fraud thus solving the whole debacle.

The moral of the story don’t underpay or undercut your ferrets…they’re likely to get testy.

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Don’t Worry it Wasn’t a Silver-Back

So, my roommate and I have decided to capture a gorilla, lock him in our hallway closet, and use him to fill water balloons with urine, so that we may humiliate the obnoxious neighbors that seem to think it’s ‘rad’ to throw loud parties on a Wednesday night at 2am…when I and/or my roommate have to work at four or five in the morning at the Safe.

Alas, we came up with the idea of the gorilla, but we then needed a secondary creature to keep the gorilla in line because I mean come on it’s a several hundred pound beast residing in the confines of a third story apartment building…he’s bound to get ‘up-ity.’

So, while my girlfriend and I were out one day meandering through the local pet stores and what not we came across the largest man-ferret that I have ever seen!  And, then it dawned on me…Brad (my roommate) and I will buy him, train in psychological warfare, name him Hanz, and provide him with a 1940’s British bully club…that way if the said gorilla gets ‘up-ity’ the ferret can knock him back in place, plus if a burglar breaks into our humble abode who the hell in their right mind is going to take on a 30-lb ferret named Hanz wielding an antique bully club!?

This plan sounds fool-proof, and don’t worry folks the gorilla was treated with the up most respect and care as allowed under the Geneva convention.

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