11th Post Extravaganza: The Leroy Interview
OK, so I was a little jealous of the Big Dumb Guy getting to interview Dr. Zibbs, “That Blue Yak,” for his 100th post special today. Ugh, can this guy get enough of himself already? I’m talking of the Big Dumb Guy, not Zibbs, who is uber cool. I mean, my cage is right near the bathroom, and I swear, the Big Dumb Guy stands in front of that mirror for hours on end, placing his hair just this way and that, plucking his eyebrows and many other things that you do … not … want … to … know … about.
So, I thought I’d do my own special. But I don’t have access to anyone else to interview but Leroy (pictured above), one of the Big Dumb Guy’s rats he keeps out in the living room and thinks I don’t know about. So, I snuck out in the middle of the night, found Leroy and asked him some questions.
HARRY: So you’re a rat?
LEROY: Do you have food?
HARRY: Why does the Easter bunny have eggs? Rabbits don’t lay eggs.
LEROY: I like eggs! Do you have some? Give it to me!
HARRY: Why is there a light in the fridge and not in the freezer?
LEROY: Actually, I’ve smelled you now. I think you are food. Jethro? Come over here. We have live food. Help me chew through these bars!
At that point, I made a quick – but dignified – beeline back for the bedroom for the safety of my cage. Apparently, the rats aren’t very smart. It’s funny, biologists say that us hamsters have tiny brains and shouldn’t be very smart, but I’m living proof that size doesn’t matter. And these idiots? They’re living proof that I need to get some friends.
How About Hammy Health Care?
This time of year is tough on pet (read: captive) rodents like me. After a snuggly winter, warm in the artificial heat of our owners’ homes, the spring comes. Sure, the air gets a bit warmer outside, but our owners insist on opening up all of the windows in the house. It’s pleasant for the Big Dumb Guy, but for me, the drafts are terrible! We’re very sensitive to temperature. In fact, if we get too cold, we go into automatic hibernation. I’m used to the desert scrublands of the Middle East, after all!
Add to that the fact that I’m a prey animal (which makes me hide injuries and sickness), and it’s virtually impossible for me to tell the Big Dumb Guy I’m sick. The other night, I sneezed once. He brought me and stroked me and made me play cute little hammy for a while, then he put me back in my den. The next morning, he opened the windows again! I wish I could talk.
If I do get sick, I’d have to go to a veterinarian, many of which won’t even treat small rodents — or might not even know how!
So, with all of this talk of health care, I think President Barack Obama needs to put forward a new plan for universal health care for hammies. Tell him to contact me, I can write it up real quick. I’m pretty smart, remember?
Leprechan 7: Your Luck Has Run Out
Hello, all of you people who are Irish (for today). I’ve always loved the “Leprechaun” horror movie series, and I’ve always wanted to be the first Hammie movie star. So, in honor of St. Patrick’s Day, I started filming today on “Leprechaun 7.” The big dumb guy doesn’t know, so don’t tell him.
Here’s the plot:
When Dan O’Grady returns to the U.S. after stealing some Irish HAMSTER’s pot of gold, he thinks he can settle down and enjoy his newfound wealth. He thought wrong. The HAMSTER followed him and O’Grady barely gets away with his life, having locked the little monster in his basement. Ten years later, J.D. and his spoiled daughter Tory move in. By accident, the HAMSTER is released and almost immediately the annoying creature starts to look for his gold, not displaying any respect for human life.
Oh, and the HAMMY also has a love interest, a lovely HAMSTER girl named Kelly. And he kills the family cat, too.
Tune in on July Fourth for my next flick, an action one: “Hamster Independence Day.”
It’s My Birthday, I’ll Have Showgirls If I Want To
Well, the Big Dumb Guy’s been all full of himself the last couple of weeks, since he redesigned his Web site. OK, I admit, it looks pretty good, and he has some interesting things to say. And did you see that crazy funny foreign video of the Dude going “Trollolollolllloooo?” Lmao.
But I must say, I’m getting sick of him getting all of this attention. When he took me from the nice rescue woman last summer, all she could say was that I was 5 or 6 months old. So, we don’t know when my real birthday is.
So, I’m declaring today as my birthday. March 5. Today, I am 1 year old, middle-aged in Syrian hamster years. But locked into this cage in the Big Dumb Guy’s bedroom, there’s a lot I need that he doesn’t give me. Sure, the yogurt treats and carrots are nice, but I have some real needs that aren’t being met.
What I need: 1) Showgirls. (A hammy’s gotta be a hammy) 2) Twinkies. 3) The March edition of “Hamster Babe.” 4) Cigars. 5) A retirement account. 6) The entire “Twilight” series. (What? I dig vampires) 7) Showgirls.
If you e-mail me at hamster.harry55@yahoo.com, I’ll send you the address to my secret storage container. I’ve got a buddy on the outside who can help me smuggle stuff in. Although, I’m not sure where I’m going to put the showgirls.
Phil’s An Idiot — Harry Says Spring’s Almost Here
Phil sux. Spring's almost here!
Which brings me to me, Harry the Hamster. I woke up this morning, and I most definitely did not see a shadow, as you can see in the picture the Big Dumb Guy took.
So pack away those snow boots and scarves (unless you use your scarves as a fashion statement, of course), and get out the shorts and tank tops — spring’s coming up real soon.
You know I’m telling the truth, because if I wasn’t, the Big Dumb Guy said he’d stop giving me yogurt treats. Mmmm, I love those Yogies, so I’d better be right!
Harry Wants An iPad
Wow, hamster porn!
He’s had an iPhone since forever and even has an AppleTV. The Big Dumb Guy is definitely an Apple fanboy. But he seems to be on the fence on this one. While he was feeding me my evening treat, he even talked with me about it. He doesn’t think I can understand, but as you know from reading this blog, I’m actually smarter than he is.
“Harry the Hammy!” he said. “Mmmm, wants some treatsies?” Geez, I’m almost 2, that’s like 55 in hamster years. I’m way past “Goo goo, ga ga.”
“Harry, I have an iPhone, but I can’t afford an iPad. Plus, it’s just like a really big iPhone. And I have one of those.” You said that already, Big Dumb Guy. “But it is much better than a Kindle. I mean, the Kindle’s black and white. It can’t play all of my iPhone apps, like Yahtzee, or Facebook, or Tweetdeck. Oh, well. Have a good night, you cutesie, wootsie little Hammy!”
Oh, Lord. Please. At this point, I think I’d like to be called anything but a Hammy now.
But I’ll get my revenge. What he doesn’t know is that I’ve actually located and pilfered his Visa number and expiration date. Plus, I’ve also used a keylogger to get his Apple ID and password. Can we say “one-click,” baby? Next time he gets paid (he’s got like $.76 in there right now), I’m ordering myself an iPad. I don’t know how I’m going to get it past him at the door when it arrives, but I’ll have to chew that rope when I get to it.
Why do I want an iPad? Well, he’s right. Color is better than black and white. And now, in HD, I can go to YouTube and watch my favorite video, the Hamster Dance. And with the new iBooks app, I can download my favorite periodical, Hamsters.
And with the 9.6-inch screen, hamster porn will never be the same. You see, 9.6 inches may be pretty nice to you, but it’s HUMUNGOUS to me. Now, how to get it past the Big Dumb Guy?
Harry’s Harem
OK, Tiger. You can finally give up the charade. You’ve been in the pressure cooker long enough. You see, Tiger’s one of my best friends (yeah, I know, a tiger and a hamster, who would have thought?). And after I helped him out in his last major by tunneling under the 18th hole and tipping the ball in on the putt, he’s owed me big time. So, when it was about to come out that I was a womanizer, well, he stepped in to take the heat for me.
Yeah, that’s right. The hamster’s the hound. What can I say, I’m addicted to supermodels. So, these past two weeks he’s been taking a lot of heat for me and he’s even lost a lot of money. I feel bad, so I’m coming forward to take responsibility for all of these affairs.
Rachel Uchitel, the club hostess? I met her during the same golf tournament that Tiger met her. The reality show contestant and cocktail waitress? She had a thing for small, hairy mammals with big pouchy cheeks. The swimsuit model? Yup, tapped that.
I also feel bad because I’ve been counseling the Tiger on his media relations these past two weeks. I even wrote some statements for him to put on his Web site, to try and knock down all of the speculation that’s been surrounding him since he lied for me. But, that didn’t work too well, either. Tiger, buddy, I’m sorry. You can have all of my yogurt treats for the next month, man. All yours.
As for the thing with the SUV and the tree and the fire hydrant? That was all Tiger. I’m way too small to drive an Escalade. I roll in a Prius, baby.
My Thanksgiving — On A Boat
That's right, I'm on a boat.
So, lots of times when he’s asleep, I wander the house, watch his new HDTV (I *heart* Animal Planet HD!) and tease his pet rats who are too dumb to be able to get out of their cage. Yeah, that’s right, Leroy and Jethro! Want some Hammy meat? Ha, that’s what I thought.
But since I knew the big dumb guy was going to be gone for days, I decided it was time for a proper adventure. So I got the 10:15 bus on Route 3 in front of our apartment building and then got on a Greyhound in Philly. You see, I’m so small, the drivers don’t notice me. No ticket needed.
Anyway, I got to Jacksonville and hooked up with my buddies Andy, Kiv and T-Pain, and we went out on a boat and made a music video. I even brought my swim trunks and my flippy-floppies. Ha. Unfortunately, they cut me out of the final video, though, so you won’t see me on MTV. But it was a lot of fun.
We spent a night out on the town in Flor-I-Da, and then it was back on a bus and back into the cage before the big dumb guy got home. When he did get home, he walked into the room and opened up the cover to my den while I was zonked out, exhausted from the trip. “Well, you look tired, Harry. What you been doing, running on your wheel too much?” Ha, if he only knew…
You Can Have Your Thanksgiving Feast
I eat better than you. So there.
What he doesn’t realize is that while he’s stuffing empty calories down his gullet (come on already with the French fries!), he’s throwing a steady stream of nutritious and good-for-you food at me. And I’m eating it — and stashing it. It’s everywhere. I’ve got dried corn, seeds and pieces of carrot in my upstairs den. I’ve also stashed some vitamin-filled pellets in the litter of my “potty” (I just think of the pee as dressing). And in the annex (the big plastic bin the big dumb guy made for me), I’ve stashed at least a dozen of the strawberry yogurt drops he keeps giving me as treats. Pack rats have nothing on me, I’m built to stash with the big pockets in my cheeks. You’d be surprised what I can fit in those bad boys.
Besides, with all of this nutritious food, it’s bringing me closer to my goal, to become a genetically superior race of rodents that can take over the world from these dumb humans, who are getting fatter and fatter by the day….
Take Me To Your Hamster
Let's build a hamster bridge to the moon!
When you’re stuck in a cage nearly all day, wasting your time on the exercise wheel, or sleeping away the hours in your hammy den, you tend to daydream a little. So, when I heard today that NASA had found water on the Moon, my thoughts started to drift.
You know, we’re desert animals really, so we can handle all of the dust and rocks on the moon just fine. Now with water there, we’d just need some little air bubble helmets with breathable air in them, and then we could take over that space rock and make it Hamster Territory.
The other problem though is, how to get there? Well, I did some Internet searching when the big dumb guy wasn’t looking, and it seems that we could make a hamster bridge there if we only had 78,937,354 hamsters on board with the idea. You see, this is doable, because our gestation period is only 16 days.
Now, if I could just get the big dumb guy to bring some chicks already, I could get moving on this.
Check out the Big Dumb Guy's Blog over at www.stevesobek.net!
Harry The Hamster 