Faint of heart? Then don’t go near the Hurricane, land of the 3am 12-egg omelet, the 6am first call, and all the loose screws and nuts who gravitate toward these brands of debauchery. The joint that was once the Dog House (rest its soul) is your textbook dive: red banquettes, yellowed air, servers who’ve seen it all—twice—and patrons who may or may not be part of the decor.