My Old Friend Hank Greener

I just received a wonderful letter from my old friend Hank Greener. We have had our differences in the past but I think we've really moved on and we're truly good friends now. Due to some recent legal troubles Hank is no longer allowed to follow his greatest passion: blogging about his dreams, vegan recipes, poetry, political correctness and other shit no one cares about. I thought I would share his letter to let you all know how he is doing.

Hello Rich,

Congratulations on the new blog! I just know it is going to be great. I hope you are well. I have had a crazy week myself…

First of all, as you probably know, you’re campaign to get my blog shut down was successful (I am personally upset but I like to support my friends so congratulations). I am still not sure how you convinced the CIA that my vegan recipes were dirty bomb specs (My ex-girlfriend always said my spicy oat soup was “atomic” LOL) but it's all part of my journey so I accept it.

My arrest and ‘enhanced interrogation’ by the CIA was pretty exhausting. I admitted to everything because I felt sorry for the interrogator, Mr. Smith, who was really trying his best. I even spilled the beans on my biggest secret of all… my bean dip recipe! Haha! I am just kidding of course. I was mainly struggling to remain conscious most of the time.

The worst part of my incarceration was when they finally released me. It was only then that I realized that I didn’t even know what the heck the proper etiquette was for sending a thank you card is in that situation. I was kind of freaking out for a while. Then I realized I had totally forgot to ask what the address was for the prison was or even what country I had been requisitioned to in the first place! I wonder if an e-card would be appropriate? I could just send it to info@cia.org and I am sure someone will forward it to Mr. Smith.

Anyways, once I finally got home I was hoping to have some Hank time. You know what I mean. Just kick back with some tofu-flavored chocolate and maybe jam-out on my harp. Unfortunately I found out my roommate had not paid any of the bills while I was gone! This is obviously my fault because Paul is a primitive-anarchist who does not believe in money (or any paper really). Thankfully he is open minded enough to let me pay the bills and purchase consumer goods. Long story short: I had to quickly pawn my Grandmother’s harp (The pawn shop wouldn’t take it so I sold it to a scrap lumber yard) to make sure we did not have our cable or electricity cut off. Thank the Goddess I managed to pay it off before they cut our cable because Paul would DIE without SPIKE TV.

What a week! And that wasn’t even the half of it!

As I was just finishing up paying Paul’s cell phone bill I got a call from the Police. At first I was excited. I thought they had accepted my plan to provide free vegan lunches for repeat violent offenders (I know a good zucchini steak calms me down when I get angry) but that wasn’t the case. It turns out they were calling to tell me the art collective I joined was actually a pyramid scheme that had run off with all my money. It’s too bad because I still think, if run properly, an art collective can post a 300% return on a modest $8,000 investment.

I guess I should stop complaining now! I am sorry it’s just been a busy week. I am looking forward to the future though. I’ve got a new job as a vegan butcher and I am working on my autobiography. I think I will call it Eat, Love, Pray. My publisher tells me he can probably get it selected to the Tyra Banks Book Club. Also, I am planning on going back to school in the Fall. It turns out my first BA in Positive Visualization and Prayer Studies was completely made-up and the institution I attended never legally existed...

Oh, before I forget, I wanted to tell you about a dream I had. It’s really long and nonsensical and practically impossible to explain but I just love to tell people my dreams. Anyways it started out in my high school and a teacher of mine was there but he was also Alan Rickman sort of but not really and it was not even my high school actually and then…[Dream Edited For Space/Shittiness]…and then my fingers, which had turned into hotdogs, started falling off and then I woke up! What do you think it means? I interpreted it as meaning that I should take a pottery class.

I should probably be going now. I have a date. To be honest it’s not exactly what it sounds like. It seems somebody signed me up for a gay singles website and now I keep getting e-mails from interested guys. Although I am not gay I do not want it to seem as though I disapprove of homosexuality or, even worse, reject somebody. So I just pretend!

Okay, I've got to get ready now. I want to look my best!

Don't be a stranger! Write me soon!

Love, Hank

P.S. I hope you enjoy the lentil-based-flavorless-cookie-treats I sent you!