Sunday, September 11, 2005

A movable feast.

A friend recently had the misfortune, or luck, depending on how you look at it, of purchasing a defective hamster.

Instead of the pristine, unimpregnated, thumbsized rodent that he so desired (foregoing the responsibility required of dealing with a single mother), he got this knocked up bitch*.

So he had several options, enjoy the added company of the pitter-patter of an extra 48 little feet, or save some money on feeding the mother for a little while.

He opted for the former.

In tribute for this selfless act, and because I was fortunate enough to name the mother (Squeak Wiggins), this post will endeavour to name her brethren. Feel free to submit your own. They don't know what the hell you call them anyway. They're rodents; the shittiest pets in the word that is not a fetid pile of shit and mealworms.

  • Shit-for-Brains
  • Vince MacMahon
  • ChickenFuck
  • Hampster Dick
  • Hurricane Katrina (In memory of the hampsters that died when they were not given timely access to floating spinning wheels)
  • AFV (Because it's awesome, plus then that gerbil might be able to do tricks!)
  • Scott Stevens (In memory of that time when he turned Eric Lindros into a sports broadcaster)
  • 9/11 (Because I guarantee that someone already has named either their baby or their dog this in hopes of getting on CNN)
  • Dirty
  • Smelly
  • Scott Stevens II
  • Rusty Trombone
And Finally.....
  • Fucking rat thing.
Question of the Day:
I know that gerbils and hampsters are different things. Do I care?


*I don't know if that's what you're supposed to call female gerbils. It just seemed like a bitch.


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