The Naked Hunter

I'm at a fork in the road of my life that I'd like to stick in my neck. Andy Russell 2005

Saturday, July 01, 2006

Join Me And The Boys For a Night Of Yodeling!

Thursday, April 06, 2006

"Stromboli", what the fuck is a Stromboli?

I get a date for St. Patrick's Day, I ask her what she liked to do, hit a few bars and grab something to eat, sounds like a plan. I get all handsome and go to pick her up. She calls me two times on the way to "her house" to see where I am. RED FLAG ONE! I find "her house" with no problem because of her precise directions. Nice new house. I find her sitting in her garage smoking a cigarette and drinking a wine cooler. That's not the bad part; she's barefooted, wearing short, shorts that she has no business wearing and a T-shirt that's seen the backside of hell! RED FLAG TWO! I rightfully asked her if we were going out, she said she just wants stay in tonight. Really, by the she was dressed I thought we go down to the laundry mat and look for quarters under the washers or grab a couple of "Will Work For Food Signs" and make a few bucks.

So we catch up on the last five minutes that we talked and I sit there a watch her smoke and drink her wine cooler in her garage. That seems to have been set up with a little table with an ash tray and bottle opener. "What are you drinking there?" I asked. "Wine cooler, I'd give you one but this is the last one." I went on to ask her if she had anything else. Quote "I'd make you vodka sour but I drank all the vodka." RED FLAG THREE! I offered to run down to the liquor store to grab a six pack and she then states that that'd be rude of her to expect me to go and get beers and if she could go.

So we get back to "her house" and mind you it's a nice new house, you could still smell the paint, two stories, decorated nicely, clean. I'm sticking around to see what the catch is or end up in the bottom of a well applying lotion on my skin so that she could wear it. She gives me the tour, shows me the place. First the dinning room, the family room, the kitchen with the empty bottle of vodka sitting on the counter. Then it's up-stairs, her kid's rooms, her room and then her Mom and Dads room. Bing, bing, bing, bing! Their out of town! RED FLAG FOUR! She says "We have the place to ourselves." Dear God!

So we go down stairs and begin to watch "Rush Hour 2" when she announces that it's time for a feeding, I'm taken back a bit because, she wasn't dressed for dinner per say. "What do you have in mind?" I asked. We can order out, she wanted "Stromboli", what the fuck is a Stromboli I thought to myself, call me a dumb-ass but all what a Stromboli is nothing but a pizza folded in half and more expensive. I get extra onions on mine.
So $40.00 bucks later I'm shoving this soggy chunk of dough down my fat gullet and watching Chris Rock and Jackie Chan kick ass and tell funny jokes, while thinking about a few friends sitting in a bar wearing funny hats green hats and drinking green beer pretending to be Irish! I had to get out!

Then it got good, she gets up and says "I'm going to get comfortable." What! WHat! WHAT! She then proceeds to go into the laundry room change T-shirt's and takes off her shorts. Just to make sure that I knew she took off her shorts, she stands in front of the TV and pulls up her shirt to show me that she no longer donned her Daisy Pukes. I had to get out now; I didn't know what to do. Because I didn't bite she plops down on the "Lazy Boy" and pouts. Then it hit me… pretend to fall asleep… and that's what I did, even pulled a few fake snores. After what seemed like eternity she nudges me and says "Are you sleeping, do you want to come upstairs? I reply, "No I need to get home." I gave her a big bear hug and told her to take care.
I don't mean to be a dick, but Jesus she didn't give a shit on how she looked, what do you do… I didn't want to be mean and just leave. Man, what a drag.

Sunday, February 19, 2006



So I get thrown out of Hooters, man. Which has me to thinking, my dream job of becoming a manager may have hit the dumpster like a hooker after a knife fight. Like any other guy, I go to Hooters so that I can feel special, to watch the big game, drink a few pitchers of beer, eat a few or so dozen wings with a hard on. They know me there, the girls I mean. When they see me walk in the door, they fight on who's going to get to wait on me. Deals are made, coins are flipped. I've seen girls cry and walkout… Hey, there's enough of me to go around ladies, or should I say there was before I was banned.

The day started like any other day, I woke up to the sound of my mother screaming from her iron lung. Today Mom was on my back because I forgot to plug in her battery pack from the night before. Man, she was in a mood, seems I left my George Foreman Grill turned on all night and Mother hates the mess it leaves on the VCR. So I had to get out of the house but fast!
Luckily one of my high school buddies "The J Man" called and wanted to meet me for lunch. They don't let me eat in the cafeteria anymore just because I "almost" graduated over 20 years ago. That's what you get for being true to your school. Go Panthers! So I met him at Taco Bell.

I love Taco Bell.

I belong to the fraternity called "The Fraternity" that "The J Man" started a few years back, great story on how I became the official “Buyer of Booze”. I was coming out of the "Liquor Quick" over there off Madison Street. And "The J Man" asked me if I wanted to join his fraternity just like that, I was like hell yeah! So for my initiation I was to go into the "Liquor Quick" and buy three cases of Miller light, a bottle of Old Grand Dad and a can of "Slim Jims", the big size. We then went to the deserted airport where I drank the bottle of Old Grand Dad and ate the can of "Slim Jims". You should have seen the expression on those guys faces when they saw that I was unfazed, I was a God among men! If it wasn't for Mike T. offering me a dry bong hit of nylon string, I would have never woken up the next day with my eyebrows shaved, the words "Ball Sack" written across my forehead and an empty "Slim Jim" can crammed in my ass cheeks. I love those guys!

"The J Man" showed up ten minutes late, I could tell something was on his mind, he told me that the future of the fraternity depended on a special meeting the guys wanted to hold at my house and if it was possible for me and my mom to hit a movie or stay at a motel that night. I explained that because my mom lived in an iron lung that getting her around was kind of tough, but if I pushed her into the garage and turned her oxygen down, she'd sleep for hours. Me on the other hand could go and hang out in one of my favorite haunts, Hooters. The "The J Man" then sent me to the Liquor Quick" and buy three cases of Miller light, a bottle of Old Grand Dad and a can of "Slim Jims", the big size, must be another initiation. Poor sucker.

I asked for my regular table, right next to the women's washroom, you can catch'em coming and going! Pun intended both ways baby! Krystal Beth was working, she was the only one the really understood me there. We had a deal; I'd give her 50 bucks and never make eye contact. That was okay with me because Krystal Beth had a glass eye that was to small for her eye socket and if she didn't blink it would look straight down or roll back inside her head, and that kind of freaked me out. Plus who's looking at eyes, it was Hooters for Christ sake! Today I thought I was getting an extra prize in my Cracker Jack box, trainees, two of them! Amber and Piper, two names that are now burned in the back of my head like a canker sore that’s burned in the back of my head.

I ordered my usual the 50 piece "Three Mile Island", 12 raw oysters (un-shucked, I like to suck'em out of their shell just like our ancestors did, plus you get more juice) a quart of New England Clam Chowder with a side of fried cheese sticks for dipping. I've been going to Hooters for I don't know how long, I have all the calendars from 1987 still hanging on my wall and I celebrate my birthday three times a year there, it's where my family honors the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ on Christmas Eve, (closed Christmas) so I consider myself somewhat of a connoisseur… if you will.

I wasn't going to say anything at first, but then I knew that if I didn't then I wasn't doing my duty as a patron of one of the finest casual eating establishments in South America. Amber and Piper came trotting over to my table, "Is everything alright?" Piper cheerfully asked, but I didn't believe her, she really didn't want to know. I wadded up a few paper napkins and threw them into the clam chowder. "I'd like to see the manager." I replied trying to keep my composure. "I'm sorry sir, is there anything I can do?" Amber butted in!
Talk about asking the wrong question at the wrong time! Who did this kid think she was, a trainer or something, it was her first day! Is there anything she could do? Yes there was something she could do! Get a boob job! My god, did she know where she worked? Did she have any pride? You go to Disney Land you want to see mouse ears, you go to Hooters you want to see Hooters, am I the only one that gets the pun?! This wasn't Chili's where they let any old slug work, hell they let fat people work there, this was Hooters! I zipped up my zipper and stood up on my stool, which was a bad idea because of the fact that they are so cheaply made. By the time I got back on my feet the manager came over with the entire kitchen staff, all wielding some sort of kitchen utensil that I believe were to be used as weapons. "You take the blonde; I can handle the smaller one!" I screamed throwing my remaining chowder into Piper's face and putting her into a head lock. Then it happened, everything went black.
I woke up in the parking lot, in a puddle of my own blood, at first I thought that maybe one of the guys missed Piper and hit me, but later I found out they deliberately struck me and not the person who started the fight. Yeah, I wanted to see the manager right then and there.

To make a long story short they told me that Piper wouldn't press charges if I wouldn't for the gash they carved into the back of my skull. I asked them if they knew who I was and they did; my registered sex offender card is hung in the office. Even though I was connected with the Government they went on to tell me that I wasn't ever to return or they will press charges. Banned from the place where I've been spending my mom's disability check for years, turned on my like a Pit-bull on a meat cover baby.
It's not right and I'm going to fight, not for myself but for the other guys that just want a place where they can go and let the troubles of the world melt away for a few hours, where they can enjoys some chicken wings a few beers and look at boobies, big boobies! Got'a run, just remembered Mom's still in the garage. Your pal Vic!

Friday, February 10, 2006

Will You Be My Valentine?


Hello sweet lover, it’s me, your ultimate sin, the ultimate desire, Victor Whisper. Don’t be shy my naughty little kitten, I won’t hurt you. But I will tantalize your every want. Step into a world of utter ecstasy, where your ambitions will be let loose like a wild unicorn, set free in the land of sexual bliss. Join me for an entire night or one minute of shear 100% uncut love making. Won’t you?

Imagine if you will. I pick you promptly at eight PM, my mother will honk twice to let you know that it is I. You run to my 1982 Ford Zephyr carrying the 12 pack of beer and a bag of Nacho Hot Fried Pork Rines. I will chuckle because you will try to open the passenger door only to find that it sticks, because I hit a short bus at Zilker Park during one of my self-destructive drinking binges. You sit next to me careful not to explode my colostomy bag and watch me consume the bag of pig skin and a few beers. I ask you to pull my finger and you do. You want to kiss my fevered lips or as they say at the clinic fever blistered lips. But no! I tease you making you to want more! Needing more! I run my finger down your freshly shaven forearm, awww soft just like mothers, giggle, giggle.

At 8:05 Pm we pull into the Motel 8, you get us a room; Mother drops us off and takes a few photographs for the scrap album and so that I can put your head on porno stars bodies. You get us a (handicapped) room. You in my arms I on my “Little Rascal” we glide into our love nook. You place me on the bed and I nap for an hour or so while you make a pizza run, (there’s a Papa Johns 10 blocks west)

You wake me by dangling a piece of meat lovers extra cheese over my face, I tell you to move because I can’t see the TV and you forgot the crazy bread! You pout, I know what you want! I can see it in your eyes, the fire, the passion, two people entangled as one. You blush; I perspire, a lot… due to my gland problem. What seemed to be minutes was only seconds and you watch me sleep until my mom picks me up to go I Hop for “all you can eat” pancakes.

So the ball’s in your court muffin….. Will you be my valentine?

Friday, January 27, 2006

Please enjoy an excerpt from my new book

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Please enjoy an excerpt from my new book.
My Friend, My Pal, My Buddy Hackett by: Andy Russell

The other day I was going through some boxes in the attic when I discovered a lost treasure, a shoe box containing a badly Photo Shopped photo of the one and only Buddy Hackett and myself along with the “lost” cassette tape of our own “Farts”. We would spend hours smoking weed, eating bad fish tacos and recording the flatulence of kings.

The photo was taken from the time when Buddy just wrapped “The Love Bug” for the Mouse. Volkswagen unloaded a brand new 1969 “Bug” on Buddy as a thank you promotion kind of thing. Buddy didn’t want the car because as he said “This thing could wear my pants.” So we took it down to T.J. to sell it for some Quaaludes, (the real ones) and two pounds of pot. There we were speeding down The “Five” I’m sitting in the back seat because Buddy had a underage Sunset Blvd. hooker face down in his lap, Buddy turned and look at me with a tear in his eye and said, “Pull my finger.” I did just that, you should of seen the expression on little Juan’s face. “Speak again old toothless wonder.” Buddy said through his own laughter. He was the man. And man, Juan was pissed off, more because we dumped him at the border.

Buddy Hackett was an American institution, a comedy God in his own right. From his film work in such classics as “The Music Man” and “It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” to the voice of Scuttle the Seagull in “The Little Mermaid”, he entertained us for more than five decades. In addition to his film work, TV appearances, Buddy ran the game show circuit and for five years he was top-right square of “Hollywood Squares” where he cursed center square personality Paul Lynde until the day he died. I can still see Buddy now punching holes in the green room dry wall, screaming “You know Lynde’s been swinging off Peter Marshall’s cock for years and where’s my fruit basket!”

He regularly entertained at night clubs and Las Vegas hotels with material that, at times, was definitely NOT "G" rated. More “PG 13” or maybe rated “R”, no… I’m going to say that his stuff was “PG 13” and sometimes “R”, if he was liquored to gills and eating “Yellow Zingers” by the hand full. I use the word "entertained" in the past tense, because Buddy Hackett is now dead and can’t “entertain” anymore, unless you find rotting entertaining. Buddy passed away June 30, 2003 of (natural causes) but some say he choked to death on his own speech impediment, the world will never know.

It was January 10 1974, Buddy was doing the “Dean Martin Celebrity Roast of Zsa Zsa Gabor" I met him at the Beverly Hilton we were to have dinner at “Trader Vics” and then off to the Roast. Buddy couldn’t find his way out of the bathroom and I had to talk him out, turns out comedy bad boy Don Rickles was in earlier and dared Buddy to consume the entire contents of the mini bar, even the $25.00 pistachio nuts, for a hundred bucks. We won the bet but Rickles reneged on the bet and left Buddy down in his own sic and stealing the cash out of Buddy's wallet. Rickles can kiss my ass! Hack bastard!

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Come Forth and Rejoice In His Wonders


Mary said that the sun was falling and night soon would cover the land. " Not now!" replied Jesus, "I am the Son of God and I have two goats and an otter riding on this next shot!" An Otter? Mary thought to herself. Posted by Picasa

Thursday, December 22, 2005

New Year, New Name, New Me Baby


Slice a piece of this off and serve it up hot! Posted by Picasa