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.
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.
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.
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!