A few days ago, I’d decided I’d had enough with this raccoon business.
I live in a neighborhood where apparently, at the exact witching hour, they’re roaming about, eating bugs, fighting housecats and rummaging through garbage. AND I WANT TO SEE ONE, DAMMIT.
Dude, how hard is it for me to see a raccoon? Apparently, very hard since I’ve lived here three years and have yet to see an effing raccoon.
So a couple days ago, I had hit my end and wanted to explore. I convinced Jessie to sit outside of my neighbor’s house and stare at the storm-drain across the street, convinced an entire family (including the in-laws, extended cousins and great grandparents) of raccoons would hoist themselves up from the sewers and wow the sh*t out of me with their mystical raccoon powers.
But I have this problem when it comes to waiting that prevents me for waiting maybe a grand total of about one minute and twenty-one seconds before it feels like I’ve been waiting for hours and I become restless and impatient… more than usual.
Also, Jessie tried telling me they were nocturnal, which meant they wouldn’t be coming out around 8:30 because it wasn’t dark enough yet to go hunting.
Um, they’re raccoons. What in the world do they POSSIBLY do besides eat and sleep? If I slept all day, you can bet your ass I’d be itching to crawl out of my poop drain and grab some half-eaten food in someone’s garbage can even if it was only dusk. I really doubt they have like, watches or clocks or something, much less a concept of time, so I was just hoping one would crawl out and be like “Ohmigawd guys, I am so sorry to keep you waiting! I was just so damn hungry from sleeping all day and decided why the hell not start my hunting thirty minutes earlier, you know?”
Also he’d wear a pocket-watch and a monocle, because that’d be effing adorable.
So we decided to take a long, leisurely walk through the neighborhood to hunt for some raccoons, or “rackies” as I lovingly dubbed them.
“So I’m hoping we find some rackies or maybe a prostitute. Now that’d be a good night,” I said to Jessie.
“Prostitutes? They aren’t even around here,” Jessie replied.
“Yeah, but that’s the whole magical aspect of it, you know? That they could be anywhere. They’re magical.”
“Why don’t you go down to Fulton Ave and find some? Or Vegas?” Jessie suggested unhelpfully.
“Because,” I started, “that defeats the purpose. Every girl is a prostitute in Vegas. It’s not novel.”
“True,” Jessie said. “Very true.”
We walked through the creepy dark park at nighttime and Jessie convinced me that jackals were going to eat me (he is very loving). And as we were walking home, we spotted this cat laying on the base of a basketball hoop in someone’s driveway and decided to swoon it. But as you know, cats are fickle creatures and really don’t give a sh*t if you’re cooing at it and basically fawning all over it; they are narcissistic and careless of your feelings. Basically, if the zombie apocalypse doesn’t kill us all, cats will rule the world and make us their bitches.
Anyway, I quickly grew tired of trying to impress this strange cat but Jessie, however, was hell-bent on impressing this feline and crouched into the sidewalk to get on its level. The cat just stared at us stupidly, probably distracting us from a gang of jackals approaching us from behind.
“Come on, we got to find some hooks and rackies, Jess,” I said, losing patience with this cat, but instead, Jessie walked up their dark driveway and tried petting this a*hole cat who was rolling around on its back now, clearly showing off and being a douche.
That also happened to be the same time a minivan began approaching as Jessie and I were leaving, and noticed the minivan crawl to a slloooooowww pace right beside us. I tried to be cool and collected, walking at a unsuspecting pace, when I noticed the minivan was slllooooowwwlly pulling into the same driveway with the douche cat and I thought to myself, greaaaat. The last time this happened, I almost had a career as being a prisoner named Big Bertha.
Now, I figured it was highly probable these people would call the cops because some suspicious, meddling kids were picking on his housecat and had distracted the cat to leave the base of the basketball hoop which could have ended badly if that cat had actually been anchoring down the hoop because what if it broke?
And then the cops would come out and question us and be like, “Excuse me, miss? Why were you teasing that man’s housecat in the dark? Or better yet, why were you night-walking? Don’t you know that’s creepy?”
“I know, officer and I’m so sorry. It’s just that we were looking for raccoons and possibly hookers and I really didn’t mean to tease that cat but if we’re being honest, that cat was totally an a*hole and wouldn’t even let us pet it; it just rolled around like a douche on the ground and I tried giving up on him so we could find a magical hooker or something but Jessie insisted on petting it, and that’s when I kind of lost control of the situation.”
“Wait, you were looking for hookers? Were you trying to proposition a hooker, miss?”
“Dude, NO! It’s just they’re kinda like mystical creatures to me because everyone says they exist but I have never seen one and I was hoping that, in the best case scenario, I’d find both raccoons and hookers because that’d be awesome.”
“Why didn’t you go to Vegas and find a hooker? There’s like a bajillion of them down there.”
“Ugh, IT DOESN’T COUNT!!!”
But the police never came and Jessie and I ended up walking home and watching a show about prison inmates and thus, never found neither a prostitute or any raccoons. I would call it a complete lose-lose since I was hoping I’d find one or the other, or maybe a supposed jackal, but instead I think I got a mosquito bite which totally made the night raccoon-hunting adventure a total bust.
Raccoons and hookers are soooo overrated.
You know what isn’t overrated? Snickers Cupcakes. Holy cow, they rock. A rich, dense chocolate cake with caramel icing, a caramel drizzle and chopped Snickers bars? Yes please.
1 box chocolate cake mix, plus ingredients on back of box
1 small box sugar free/fat free instant chocolate pudding mix
Caramel Frosting (recipe and ingredients follow)
Caramel sauce (for drizzling)
About 6 mini Snickers bars, roughly chopped
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line 2 muffin tins with about 24 paper liners. In a large bowl, prepare the cake mix according to package directions; stir the dry pudding mix into the batter to combine.
2. Portion the batter evenly among the muffin tins, filling about 2/3 full. Bake for approx. 15-18 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool the cupcakes completely while you prepare the frosting.
2 sticks butter, softened
1/2 cup caramel syrup (the coffee syrup [like Torani], not the sundae syrup)
About 6 cups powdered sugar
1. In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat together the butter and caramel syrup until blended and creamy. Gradually add the powdered sugar, about one cup at a time, until frosting is light and fluffy. Add more powdered sugar if frosting is too thin or wet.
2. Pipe the frosting high onto the cooled cupcakes. Immediately after piping, drizzle the frosted cakes with the caramel sauce. Sprinkle the cakes with the chopped Snickers bars.
3. Store leftovers airtight for 1-2 days. Best served the same day.
I hope you enjoy! Have a wonderful day!