I miss…

writing the stories.  Be a good reader and give me 3 or 4 random words to work with would you.?  Thanks.

By the way.  There is a competition coming soon where you can win a real prize.  One that I will actually post to your house or place of work…wherever you want.  If you win.  Which you might not.  But you might. 

Was that cryptic enough for you?  If it was, you are WAY too easily fooled.  But the competition will be fun.  I will either post it tomorrow or the day after.  But soon.  And you will think about it for the rest of your life.

Something worse then the knife and gun culture?

I don’t want to get in to the politics of knife and gun crime as this is a humour site (yeah I know.  Well, *I* find it funny…).  But I need to talk about the new criminal “fashion”.  Yes.  It seems the days of guns and knife crime being a street problem are fading out to be replaced with something altogether worse.

This new problem originated in New Zealand.  It is thought that terrorists are already planning to use this at some point too, so keep your eyes peeled. 

So just what is this new culture?

Hedgehog throwing.  So as the story HERE goes, a man in New Zealand was arrested for throwing a hedgehog 5m at a 15 year old boy. 

It hit the victim in the leg, causing a large, red welt and several puncture marks.

Now I have seen footage of this, and I can tell you that it is no ordinary Hedgehog.  It has been specially bred.  It stayed small and compact until just near impact to allow for a streamlined flight and then out came the spikes moments from impact.

Here is a dramatisation of the Hedgehog seconds from impact:

As you can see, that is not a scared Hedgehog.  It is an angry Hedgehog with a tattoo.  Bred by making it watch morning TV chat shows which will fill any being with an anger unparalleled. The spikes are now fully extended, and lets out a battle scream as it nears it’s target.

Where will it end?  I myself have been known for doing something similar in my many years on this planet.  Early on, my weapon of choice was the anteater.  I would use it’s trunk..or is it a snout…or just a big nose?  Hell, I don’t care know.  But I would use it to impale them.  I would pick them up and drop them on my enemies from a great height.  Unfortunately, my foe knew when I had dropped it as the anteater would generally crap itself on the way down and would hit the target before the anteater, giving them time to move.  I once tried attack monkeys too, but that didn’t pan out quite as expected.  They just threw the feces at each other and me.   Both attempts were crap I guess you could say.

My ultimate weapon in the end turned out to be an attack sloth.  My victim seeing me release the sloth would know a slow and painful death was coming their way.  It would get them in their sleep.  Sometimes days or months after I set the sloth on them.  Focused on their mission, they would not stop until it was complete. 

But back to the original story.  Beware of Hedgehogs bearing tattoos or something.  They are bred with an intent.  I have already read a report that Osama bin Hedgehog is busy training them. 

I have created a TerrorHedgehog guide.  Please print it out and keep it with you at all times.  You never know when you may need it:

– Should you find yourself in a terrorhedgehog situation, try to take safe shelter at the very earliest opportunity. A bin used for storing dog poop is often safe as the Hedgehogs will not go near them.

– Take up the foetal position.  Use your hands to cover your head.  Cry like a little girl.  This could put them off by tugging at their heartstrings.

– Notify others around you of the impending Hedgehog attack by screaming “HOGGIES ON A MISSION!” over and over several times at the top of your voice. 

– Do not try to save others.  If you have children, make sure they are aware of the position to take up.  The chances are they will save your behind.

– If you are in safe enough position away from danger, call the Anti-Hedgehog team on 43343464 immediately on the nearest phone.  Calls charged at £8.50/min.  99% of this charge goes to the taxman, so I am sure you will agree it is a worthwhile cause.  Infact, just call the number once in a while anyway.  The government needs you(r money).

I hope this guide helps you and don’t be afraid to send me vast quantities of money as a thankyou.  No really.  I mean it.  The little hamster at the top of the page is not there for the sake of it.  Pay me dammit.  I want money.  I have a fat stomach to feed.  No, I don’t mean my pregnant wife.  I just like pies too much.

News from the frontline: Let battle commence.

As you know, the fruitarians and the animals are at war.  If you don’t know…well, go read THIS post and it will alllllll make sense.  This is a report from the frontline.  Some of the images may not be suitable for minors as they show the rigours of war.

The sheep led by a coalition of the bovine tribes, has lead the charge.  Here is a brave sheep ready to go:

 

Waiting to see him in battle are the frontline potatoes who the fruits have paid to be the 1st wave:

A scary formidable force as you can see. 

Here is the battle ready to happen.  Both sides poised like a poised thing ready to become unpoised and all battlehardened.  A missile flies overhead aiming towards the potatoes.  First strike.  It begins.

It has been crazy.  I watched the start of the battle and it was messy.  The Bovines sent the sheep in, which against the potatoes…well, there was no resistance.  The ICBM’s (Impressive CowCrap Bringing Missiles) were sent over destroying the defenses ready for the sheep to overrun and take over the initial position.  The Fruitarians retreated, but brought out the big guns.  The strawberries came to the line and dished out a vast amount of juice.  A lot of sheep were lost in that part of the battle.   With the potatoes  defeated early on, and the strawberries starting to fade, the fruitarians brought the baked beans in to the attack.  The sheep stopped, eating the baked beans as they defeated them.  Bad move.  It meant the sheep could no longer hide in the shadows.  While trying to take “Fruity Hill”, they were undone by the constant farting caused by eating the baked beans.  What seemed like a crazy move by the fruitarians was paying off.  They could smell the lambs coming now.  And if they couldn’t smell them, they could certainly hear them. 

The fruitarians, cornering the sheep, fly over in their spaceships and dropped bombs on the sheep.

As night fell, each came out to get their fallen brothers.  Unfortunately, everyone picked up the wrong soldier.  The cows spent the night eating backed potatoes (from the ones that were not mashed by the ICBM’s) and the fruits ate lamb chops. 

I myself ate a baked potato with beans on it.  I did sneak a lamb chop too, but they have not noticed.

“Harrowing” was one word I heard.  “Unreal.  There was a lot of fruitjuice spilt today, but still they kept on coming” was another phrase.

The cows have informed me that they intend to try to take Fuity Hill tomorrow.  I will write details of the battle as it happens.  For the moment, it is all quiet on the battlefield orchard.

You were looking for what???

Happy Saturday young readers of the interweb thing.  Yes OK.  It is currently 11:49pm here in the UK and will be Sunday by the time I post, so I am hoping that my friends from another timezone will read this.  For everyone else…Happy Sunday! 

Depending on time, tomorrow’s post will be from the frontline in the war.  Tonight however, I have gone the “I went to Google and asked…” route.  I picked my favourite searches that have found my site.  Some read like a problem page.  So I am going to answer them the same.

Dear Sy. I want to know about “Hamster milking”. 

Uncle Sy says:  I am sure you do.  You can indeed milk a hamster.  Unfortunately only the male ones.  And the milk may taste a little salty.  It is also no good as milk to put in your coffee but is better used as a dip.

Dear Sy. I want to know all about “All about male panda hamsters”. 

Uncle Sy says:  Panda’s and Hamsters are indeed two COMPLETELY different animals.  So, what is it.  You wanna know about a Panda or a Hamster?  Coz the two aren’t compatible in the sack. You spend a lot of the time confused don’t you?

Dear Sy: “Can hamsters eat chicken”. 

Uncle Sy says:  Of course.  Can I recommend making sure the chicken is dead and cooked though.  They fight back otherwise.

Dear Sy: “Does my wife have to pee in a cup?”

Uncle Sy says:  It depends.  Is the toilet working as you expect it too?  Or are you talking about when she really needs to go and someone is already in the can?  It is a decision she must make, and not one you should Google. And if she does, make sure it is a wide enough cup.  No need to make a mess on the floor is there!

Dear Sy:  Should I really “Drink my wife’s pee” 

Uncle Sy says:  In the event of there being no apple juice…yeah for sure.  Oh.  And you might vomit.  So only use it as a starter for your diet.  And your sick.  Go get help.

Dear Sy:  Three words. “Falafel wind bowels”. 

Uncle Sy says:  I have NO idea.  Although I can imagine eating such a thing could make your bowels turn in to a wind machine.  But this is OK as wind is an alternative natural energy form.  Get yourself to your local power company and go make some money!

Dear Sy: My “hamster has big stomach”. 

Uncle Sy says:  Oh.  Fattist are you.  What is wrong with having a big stomach?  You people make me sick.  I bet you tease people and are really insecure aren’t you.  Nobody likes you.  Not even your family.

Dear Sy: “what should I do with my dead hamster” 

Uncle Sy says:  A nice side salad and maybe fries or a baked potato would be nice.  Stew would be weird.

Dear Sy:  I think I have “Paranoia in my head”

Uncle Sy says:  It is not paranoia.  All of your family and friends are watching you and reporting to the government.  You are part of a top secret study.  You have things injected in your head.  Don a tin foil hate and sit in a dark corner.  It will be OK.  They cannot get through the hat.

Dear Sy: “why is my stomach so big”

Uncle Sy says:  Why do you think?  “A chocolate bar” means 1 small bar.  “A pack of crisps” means 1 pack, not the multipack.  Geez.

Dear Sy: Is it wrong to “lick bird poop”

Uncle Sy says:  Hell no!  And while you are there lick the plug socket.  Ohhh and you have to have a long thin metal rod attached to your tongue first for full effect.  It’s tingly!

Dear Sy: Can “hamsters come back from the dead”

Uncle Sy says:  Once they are all stiff, they are only good for throwing at teenagers who annoy you.  It is unlikely they will come back from the dead.  Although, it is worth mentioning that there are several cases where they have come back as zombies.  They will be sucking your brains through your ears with a straw in the next 40 minutes.  Good luck.

Dear Sy:  I have a “head turning hamster”.  Help. 

Uncle Sy says:  Your hamster is possessed.  Team up with the person before this and start a zombie fighting force.  Good luck!  *If there’s something weird…in ya hamster cage…who ya gonna call? ZOMBIE HAMSTER BUSTERS!*

Dear Sy: I need to “pick your brains about France dinners”. 

Uncle Sy says:  Pick your nose.  Same type of flavour.  Go to Tesco and get a microwave meal and live a little longer.

Dear Sy: I “need to see a pic of a hamster” Thanks. 

Uncle Sy says:  I need the winning lottery numbers.  Some things you just don’t get.  Way of life I am afraid. So stop your stupid demands and go get Sy a beer.  Good chap.

So there you have it.  People search for some weeeeeird shit.  I on the other hand don’t.  My last google search was “I have a weird thing in my trousers.  Mummy tells me to stop playing with it.  Is it bad?”   

Whinge whinge whinge whinge whinge.

Sorry.  I don’t like doing these posts, and this is only really the what…third time in 80+ posts?  But I feel a need to do it.  2 things are bothering me. 1 seriously, and the other annoyingly.

Numero Uno:

As you know, I am a little “anti-celebrity”.  This is not a blanket statement.  I do like a few of them.  They are the ones that try to maintain a normal life outside of work. 

Then there are the others.

I hate them.

Lots.  An example?

2 words.  Naomi Cambell. 

Did you know that “Naomi Cambell” is an anagram for quite insulting words?  Yeah really!  Look closely.  Dont read the next line as it has the answer in it, so if you can’t work it out, move on.  If you get it right, well done.

The anagram?  Well, it is “worthless total whore of a human being”.  Yeah I know.  You have to add a few letters, and not use the C.  But for the most part, the rest of the letters spell it! 

I wonder if at birth, Mr and Mrs Dr in a lab with a test tube decided that they would call her that as they knew she would turn in to a complete (explicit)-wit?!  I also wonder if they mixed the wrong ingredients in the test tube and mixed the sperm of the losing camel in this post and an anorexic pidgeon instead of using human ingredients?

I am bored of reading about her.  OK, so I am posting about her, but the papers dont get to call her a worthless total whore of a human being.  But they should.  Because it is funny.  To me.

But.  I have to totally disagree with BA throwing her off of a flight making it delayed at Heathrow yesterday.  She should have been allowed to stay on it.  Yup.  I am siding with her on this one.  She paid for the ticket afterall.

And now I am jumping that ship and getting back on the side of reality.

Half way through the flight they should have shoved her skinny arse in the toilet and flushed it.  And then emptied the contents half way over the atlantic.  Then send out a mayday to let them know there is a bitch overboard. And then 11 weeks later realise they didn’t have the radio tuned in to the right frequency and Penguin FM picked up the broadcast and swam out and had a damn good laugh at her.  (Are there penguins that way?  I dunno.  I am making this part up, and refuse to do too much investigation in to her timely leaving of this planet).

I know the cause of her problem (apart from the fact she think she is so damn important when really she is as important as me washing the dishes in the next 3 minutes).  The problem is that people keep employing her.  So lets boycott everyone* who employs her until they stop giving her any work.  Then lets make the taxman investigate her for tax fraud (which I am fairly confident would happen).  Then when she is living in a box begging for money, lets all treat her like scum instead of how it is now where we just know she is scum.

* everyone does not include chinese food, KFC, beer or anything like that. 

Oh.  Did you know that her perfume makes you come out in blotches, and only attractive to rabid dogs?  I have a friend who wore some.  She in getting treatment now for the trauma that the perfume put her through.  True story.

So.  I think that covers how much I hate her.  Lets move on.

Numero umm..what is it for two?  Uno is one, so lets say Tuno.  Yeah.  Numero Tuno:

My second whinge is one that you can’t really do anything about.  It is ones of those phenomena (ooohh…long word! Well done Sy!  Thanks Sy.  Very kind of you!  Your welcome Sy.) that happens and you cant do stuff all about it no matter how hard you try.

Today, I have been cleaning the house and listening to music as I do it.  Yeah I know, it doesn’t happen often, but I do once in a while do it.  While doing my chores set by my wife who said “If you don’t do it, I will beat you with a large stick you worthless little man”, I have been listening to some Pantera, some early Megadeth and some Stone Sour.  I don’t expect you to know who they are.  But they arent soft rock.  They are real “clear your head out” type tracks.  So why the bloody hell do I have a completely different song in my head which I heard yesterday…and do not even like?

I should also note I don’t know ANY other lyrics apart from this line:

“Should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements”. 

I don’t even know who sings it!  I am not a fan of the song, but it just wont get out of my head.  And it is making me all emotional.  I might have to have a little cry later.  Maybe the tears will drain it from my head?  I don’t know, but I am pretty sure I am going to find out as it is driving me completely and utterly mad.  MAD I TELL YOU!!!  I want it to leave my head and be replaced with something normal.  I can feel my sciatic nerve starting to ache through the pain of wanting to stop hearing it, and I have already felt a few synapses pack there bags and are leaving to fire in someone elses head.

Why does this happen?  Any head nutjob readers in the house that can explain this to me?  Or better…gimme the damn cure! 

Screw this for a game of soldiers.  I am off to listen to THIS again.  It makes me smile.  Unlike Naomi Campbell who makes me want to drink 10 pints of stellar artois and let the effects of drinking it happen to her.

No, I do not condone what Stella Artois is famous for.  But I do want NC to bugger off. 

Would you like one hump or two you gorgeous sexy thing you?

Hello treacle.  Gis a kiss lover.  *grrrooowwll*

  Fact:  Having “relationships of an intimate nature” with an animal or animals is illegal.

Fact:  Thinking that your pet is beautiful or handsome in more of a way then “look at his/her little face!  So precious!” is plain wrong, and you need to seek medical help.  Your pet does not fancy you back. 

Fact:  Camels are ugly.  Very very ugly.  They have breasts in the wrong place for instance.  They also spit.  And have bad tempers.

So just why on squiffy the gerbils lush green planet is there such a thing as a camel beauty pageant?  Actually, let me rephrase that a little.  WHY ON SQUIFFY THE GERBILS LUSH GREEN PLANET IS THERE SUCH A THING AS A CAMEL BEAUTY PAGENT?!?!?!?!?  You can see the obvious difference the second time I assume?  If not, say it out loud 5 times. 

Although I guess it makes sense.  The average beauty pageant contains women who are so bitchy, that there bad tempers and vocal spitting at each other in the name of competition kind of makes sense.  And they have fake breasts which are so botched up that even a wonderbra cannot help them from escaping to their back. 

But back to the other weird looking freaky things.  Beauty queens are often….oh…sorry, I should be talking about the camels huh. 

So some 10000 camels turn up.  How many humans is not known.  How do the camels get there?  Do they take the train, or do their owners look at them and think “Yeah baby!  You are a WINNER!”?  I am also curious how they judge them.  Is there a swimsuit section? Do they all have to say “…and world peace!” with a really fake collagen smile and a voice like Mickey Mouse on helium?  Do the judges stare at the camels humps and decide if they have excellent water holding capability to earn extra points?  Is there any touching?  Wow…SO many similarities to “normal” beauty pageants!!!

I also want to know this:  If camels are so pretty that they need there own pageant, why do the men try and buy your wife in return for a camel or 5 when yuo are in their country?  Are we to assume they think our wives look like camels or is the camel thing one of those “lets go to the camel brothel and get a little hump action” things?  What would a camel brothel be called anyway?  A HumpStation?  If you are “enjoying intimate relations” in a room with a lot of camels, are you having a camelthon?  Why am I saying intimate relations when I should just write “If you are sick enough to have sex with an animal…”?  So many questions.  Should I interview the camel?  Probably not.  She would get the hump.

Hang on.  What if the camels are male?  Oh that is just wrong.  If they are indeed male, are they all working on their 2 pack for months before the pageant?  Would they have a speedo wearing section?  Because a camel in a speedo… And would they want world peace, or in a big macho voice say “Yeah…more beer.  And more war.  And hey laideeeees…check me!” as they flex their eyeballs and scratch their humps? 

OK, so I need to move away from this now because I am starting to feel queasy. So lets talk about this other story I read last year:

A Sudanese man has been forced to take a goat as his “wife”, after he was caught having sex with the animal.

Dammit.  Straight back in the zone. 

What religion would you have to follow etc to live in an area where if you pork a goat, you have to marry it?  And if he was to say have sex with a cow, and then be forced to marry it; only to kill it and makes some awesomely tasty steaks; would he be arrested for murder?  Because if you are going to get a free meal out of it I can think of worse things to have to do then…no…no Sy…do not go there.  But what I did find funny about the story is this bit:

“When I asked him: ‘What are you doing there?’, he fell off the back of the goat, so I captured and tied him up.” 

He fell off the back?  Now OK.  I am not the brightest person in the world, but I am looking at the logistics of this.  He was sitting on it’s back.  How does he get Mr Mini to…  Nope.  I can’t say it. 

OK, I am gonna go and have some “private time”.  Writing this has got me all misty.

A thanks to Rose who is in fact not a camel, for the heads up on this story.  You can read about the goat HERE and the Camel HERE.  You know.  If that is your thing.  Yeah I thought it might be.

The hamster speaks…

I am not sure why you wanted to hear from the deserter, but after he came back begging to get back on the wheel, he begged for me to do this interview with him.  Obviously because he wants the pity vote from you people.  I also just noticed that Hamster and Deserter are almost the same word, and he is both a hamster and a deserter.  That makes sense though because so do the words Sy and Sexy Dude.  Hang on, I will just install my modesty chip.  *fumble click squeek OUCH!* That's better.  Where was I.  Oh yes.

Here is how the interview went:  (for your reference, I am not happy to name him as that is free advertising.  He will therefore be known as WLG.  Worthless Little Git.  Yeah?  Well bite me!)

Sy: So.  You came crawling back did you?  Miss me too much or just wanted to maybe try to abuse my mind again?

WLG:  Oh don't be like that.  We both know the reason why we became separated!

Sy: *cough* eeeexcuuuuse me?  At the age of 14, I was a happy kid.  Quite bright, had a future.  Hell, I could count to 11 if I used every appendage and could tell the time that Mickey was pointing to on my watch!  I had a future.  Then one morning I woke up.  You were gone.

WLG:  Yes, but you don't know what  I was going through.  I had drawn curtains heavy of my history.  I had surrounded myself with misery.

Sy:  Oh give it up.  I am the author and I will dream up your pain. 

WLG:  OK..OK...look.  Lets get on with this.  It is hard for me as it is. 

Sy: Fine.  Geesh.  Like I had it easy with you just appearing on my doorstep a few days back.  So you have come back and want to get back on the wheel.  You seem to have done well for yourself.  You look well, aged very well.  Why come back!!  I just don't get it.  But before you answer, a few people would like to ask you some questions.  Answer candidly or I am going to cook you and me and Charlie will be having Hamster Rolls for dinner.

WLG:  OK.  Whats the first question?

Sy:  They all seem to be about you.  Like they know you and have some kind of bond, and have no regard for my feelings, but hey, I know the true story, and I am sure they will after you answer them!  The first question is from Rose.  Rose asks: I want to know if the hamster is scared of the many voices? Maybe that is why he pretended he was dead.

WLG:  Well Rose.  Sy was the one that labelled me as dead.  Obviously he said that I was dead, whereas I was purely just absent.  I had things I had to do.  I won't lie to you though.  The voices...so many many voices.  It was hard to work out what "Sy" I was talking to half of the time, and one time I was talking to Captain Twinky.  It was hard to stick around at that point.

Sy:  Yup.  Bring up Cpt Twinky why don't you.  Ugh.  Jim asked: I think we really need to know what the hamster thinks of you and why he has allowed to know he is alive.

WLG:  Great question Jim.  Sy thinks I hate him, and I am feeling the hate he has for me in the way he is talking to me, and I am sure you can all hear it in the text.  I love Sy.  He is the one most greatest person in the world.  I turned that wheel for him for so many years.  It was my life's work for such a long time.  Even though I have been gone for so long, I still thought about him everyday.  He is a really great guy.  Amazingly good looking, bright, intelligent...and I like to think I had a part in that.  I just had to come back.  Back to where I grew up.

Sy:  I feel sick.  Do you slide under doors rather then opening them?  And is it impossible to pick you up because you think you are sooooo smooth?  I bet the ladies love you right?  Anyway.  Lets get on with this.  Anca asked:  Hamster, what ever possessed you to leave and abandon Sy and the wheel? And why come back now? Are you here to stay or just visiting? Where did you leave, where is your house now?  

WLG:  Well Anca.  As I said before in the question Rose asked me, the voices were really getting to me.  I wanted to take the wheel with me, but I loved Sy too much and knew he was nothing without the wheel.  I want to stay now.  I have asked Sy, but he really isn't having it.  I was living in the head of a political leader known around the world.  I cannot name him as I signed the official secrets act.  Lets just say that it was not my finest hour.  I am hoping me and Sy can work it out though.

Sy:  No really.  You aren't coming back in here.  Tamera has asked:  If you should decide to reinhabit Sy's brain, which greatness would you lead him to in the future"?

WLG:  I have great plans.  I could really do something with this blog.  Make it something people want to read.  At the moment it is pretty plain.  Kinda crap and has the reading level of a small child.  I think it is time to take it to another level.  I am sure you all agree!

Sy:  Interesting.  Your true colours are showing.  You are an egotistical maniac at heart aren't you!!  The last question is in about 200 parts.  Jane has given a whole list.  Lets see how you get on. 

What do you feel about gerbils? Rumour has it you are one but suffer from delusions of grandeur. Have you have a mammal change operation?

WTG:  Oh.  A supporter of Sy I see.  Look lady.  I am the greatest hamster to roam the lands.  Get over it.  The only operation I need is a reduction operation.  You can read in to that what you want.

Your teeth are particularly sharp are you related to Count Hammy of Transylvania?

WTG:  Actually, I think you jest, but I am indeed a 9th cousin 223 times removed.  And I won't think twice about calling on him to get what I want in life.  You hear that Sy?

When will you stop trying to build a second home in Ken Dodd's hair? Give the man a break; he's eighty didn't you know?

WTG:  Without me setting up a temporary home in there, can you imagine the state he would be in?  He is a dribbling mess as it is!  Without me, he would forget to pay his taxes!!

If you aren't related to Count Hammy are you related to Sammy or perhaps Fanny?

WTG:  Fanny is the maid!  You insult me! *slaps you in the face with a silk tissue*

Sy: oooohhhh...handbags at dawn!

Please explain why Master Sy is continuously called upon to repair gnawed wires at gatwick airport?  Are you in collaboration with Sy in an attempt to keep him in paid employment?

WTG:  I gave up the gnawing game many years ago.  I went to Gnawers Anonymous for several years and I now run a support group called the "GnawNoMore Group" every Tuesday.  I have sent Sy an invitation to see if we can fix his issue.

Do you have a little blue uniform, a fob watch and stockings? Just curious.

WTG:  I do, but my bedroom habits are non of your business are they!

Cats eat hamsters; are you shit scared?

WTG:  Bring it on!  I have seen her.  Soft as anything.  Look, there she is now!  OI!  Stupid cat!  Oh shit....*runs*

Hamsters crap on cat food.( Their faeces looks the same as those biscuits.) Are you looking forward to be literally "shit" scared in some kind of sick and twisted way?

WTG:  I just did.  I actually didn't mean too...but have you seen those teeth?  Holy cat biscuits!

Why aren't you dead? Hamsters are only meant to live for 3 or so years; you are 33. Would you like me to put you to sleep? I have a large mallet....

WTG:  Sy put you up to this didn't he.  I am sure you have seen the kung foo hamsters in the shops, so I can either use my dance moves on you which are so hot I am a fire hazard, or Kung Foo your arse.  Bring it on sister.

I heard you crashed your wheel at a record breaking 320miles an hour. How much brain damage did you receive and more importantly when did you stop spinning? Are you now so confused that you wear a tutu? What preparations did you take for this amazing challenge; did you stick to pellets or switch to organic pasta for the extra carbohydrate?

WTG:  Wow.  You heard about that huh?  I had been on Red Bull and strong caffeine tablets.  Add a little vodka to the mix and you have some serious energy going on.  I actually couldn't stop myself.  I have had a nervous twitch in my leg ever since.  And the tutu bit...that stays in the bedroom with the blue uniform and my batman cape, and is none of your business.

So there you have it.  He is interviewed.  I am not going to say this was the easiest interview I ever done.  It brought back harrowing memories of only being able to count to 3 and being demoted to status of the town idiot. 

I was listening to a song at some point during the writing of this post and hid some lyrics in the post.  A special prize to the person that gets it and posts the answer to what song.  I have a real time stat counter so I will know if you went away long enough to investigate!  I only know of one person who would get it quick enough.  Lets see if it happens.  Challenge extended.  Do you accept the challenge?

I’m not even here! Someone else wrote it!

I decided I needed to take this site up a notch.  To give it an intellectual side for a post or 1.  What better way then to ask 2 fellow bloggers to give it a go.  I decided on the 2 people after I had been maybe a little harsh in siding with the side of the beast in posts that they had posted.  Although I stand by my decision to support the animals in question, and they were definitely on the right side, I felt compelled to let the posters enter the world of the hamster and send over a post. 

Then I got the posts.  And I realised this will be the longest post ever.

Then I realised I bit off too much because they are slightly “too” clever for me, and the posts were better written then all of my back catalog of 80 posts.  But I am a man of my word (that word is Schnibble).  So here we have it.  Post 1 is by Tamera.  I decided that Tamera should post first because when I read the second post which was by Floog, I realised that I could use it to my advantage against them!  I have not edited the posts.  They are in their raw format.  Why?  Coz I am lazy!  Ta-daaaaa!  Here we go!  Please keep all hands inside the car and only stand up should you require a bathroom break:

“We interrupt your program to bring you this breaking news update”

Reporter: Ladies and Gentlemen. We are standing out on the landing field at Gatwick Airport to bring you a most incredible news breaking story! As you can see, and hear by the sirens in the background, it is utter chaos here. It seems to be that a young male has stolen a lift, driven it out to a jet full of passengers, and is seemingly attempting to climb up on the nose of this aircraft! We are working feverishly to speak to the authorities out here in order to find out what it is that we are observing!

It is most incredible, and utterly unbelievable. Jack, see if you can zoom in with the cameras, and get a closer shot. I can’t quite figure it out….but…it seems to be that this man is climbing out of the lift, and what is that he has attired himself with? Just one second! We have just been joined by the Manager responsible for daily operations out here at Gatwick, and a Clinical Psychiatrist that has just arrived in an ambulance from the local hospital. 

Reporter to Manager: So, Sir. Do tell us. Does your airport security have any idea who this person may be?

Manager: I cannot believe this! Oh dear. We have flights to get out! This is going to cause such delay at Gatwick here today. I do not care who it is! Just get the nutter out of here, so that we can get on with it. Who let him out here! Somebody doooooooo something! Hey! Hey you over there! What are those fire trucks doing out here???? There is no damn fire, for G*** sakes!

Reporter: Please, Sir. It’s not allowed to say ‘nutter’ on camera, and please watch your language. Well, eh….Right then. Let us try to get a word in with the Psychiatrist.

Reporter to Psychiatrist: Tell me Doctor. This does seem a bit extraordinary, does it not? We can see that the ambulance drivers are running after him around the jet, and the police are on the perimeters covering their backs. This does not look good at all. Do you think he could be dangerous?

Psychiatrist: Well, he does seem to be……Oh, here he comes running around the front side. What in the world? Oh, Holy….Is that tight black undies he has on? And, a black mask and cape? Oh dear. Is he in Batman drag?

Reporter: Well, you may be right. It does seem to be the undies of Batman…but, wait! Doctor, what is that hanging around his neck? A sign of some sort? Quick Jack! Get a zoom-in before he runs around the back side of the jet again! 

Psychiatrist: *Gasp*. Well, I do say…

Reporter: You said it Doctor. The sign seems to read, ‘SAVE THE HAMSTERS! Before it’s too late’! 

Psychiatrist: Oh, but we do have a case here, don’t we?

Reporter: Give us your assessment Doctor.

Psychiatrist: Well. Firstly. I can now clearly see that it is no Batman attire we are seeing. It is obviously Darth Vader, and that lends very bad news about this man’s prognosis. A very bad sign, indeed. An inner conflict between good and evil. This lad is hurting beyond belief! Hmmm. Yes, yes. Terribly conflicted. This will entail a lengthy stay on the loony ward.

Reporter: Sir, please do not use the word loony on the air.

Psychiatrist: Sorry, Good Fellow. Old habit. Got carried away. Right, then. Well, I mean really. It is clear that had it only been Superman attire, an overnight observation would have been sufficient. Oh dear. My drivers are looking a bit exhausted out there, aren’t they? I suppose we will just have to let the lad run in circles until he exhausts himself. Perhaps we can then find out who this individual is. I can see that it may take a while, because as you can see, he has begun flapping his arms up and down, cawing like a raven. Hmmm, yes. New to me, Good Fellow. I shall have to look this one up in my medical dictionary.

Reporter: *shaking head*. Poor, poor, man. Such terrible fate! 

*mumbling into earpiece…”yes, OK”…*  Ladies and Gentlemen. I have just received the most incredible scoop from my producers. A telephone call has come in from Houston, Texas…USA…of all places! This is just incredible. It seems that a most brilliant, and they say extremely gorgeous, woman….oh, OK. Yes, they are adding over-the-top, out-of-this-world intelligent woman……was sitting with her morning coffee watching CNN International, when she realized (as smart as she is) that she recognized this fellow. She has called from all the way over-the-pond, and informed the officials that his name…..is, Sy!

Manager: Sy??????? Oh, for the love of…..Poor bloke. I should have seen the signs. I was afraid that the problems over at Terminal 5 (Heathrow’s terminal) was going to bick him over. I kept pouring vodka down his throat to relax him, sending him over each shift to deal with it. Oh! I feel so ashamed! I feel so responsible!

Psychiatrist: Now, now. Why don’t you come with me over to the ambulance for a little while. We shall talk about this guilt-complex.

Reporter: And, it seems as though this individual called Sy has fainted in his cawing frenzy. The drivers are picking him up from the ground, as he babbles nonsense.  

Well, there you have it. All has ended well, and Sy will finally receive some help, and a long relaxing stay on the loon….Eh….at the hospital. As for this brilliant lady in Texas, Tamera Daun, I’m certain that she will be appropriately rewarded for being the true American Hero that she is. My producers are telling me that she is being rewarded with a two-week trip to the Bahamas for her alertness, beauty, and of course…intelligence.

Goodbye for now from this incredible newsbreak at Gatwick Airport. We now return you to your regular program.

So there we have it.  Tamera thinks I might be a little “nuts”.  Well, she is right.  BUT.  There is one thing that she is about to find out.  Where do I get my “insanity” from?  Well, my SISTER.  That is who.  And who is my sister?  Well, lets have a read of Floogs post and find out!  As before, I request no arms outside of the car.  And drink requests may be made after the show:

FLOOG EXPOSES THE SHOCKING TRUTH!

Ladies and Germs, strap yourself immediately to something stable and Prepare for impact! Erm, you at the back there….no, that’s not what I meant and you’ll probably be left with some chaffing marks!  (Editors note:  I will pack the KY next time.)I bring shocking news which I have just unearthed, that will shock you in a most shocking sort of way.This information is so sensitive that even I am only allowed to glance at it for short bursts not exceeding fifteen seconds at any given time within a twenty four hour period, and subject to an armed escort and full access to counseling services thereafter.It is so secretive as to make the Watergate scandal and President Clinton’s choice of Cigar dipping technique appear like an open book….. probably one of those Mills and Boon ones that people strangely keep in their lavatories as a little light reading during those awkward and lengthy ‘Interludes’.

During the past few months, upon reading the amazing words penned by resident proprietor of ‘THE WHEEL IS TURNING BUT THE HAMSTER IS DEAD’, our very own SY, I have experienced regularly, an involuntary and bizarre feeling within the pit of my stomach. At first I attributed these bizarre inner feelings to unrequited flatulence, but following a short course of ‘Windeaze’ and an impromptu session of home made colonic irrigation using a length of garden hose pipe and a twelve volt water pump from my garden fountain, I found that such feelings persisted.

Lady Tamera and I had long since established a healthy Cyber friendship, I placed Random anonymous comments on her blog posts to boost her figures and raise her ratings, and she kindly reciprocated on mine. It seemed to work well enough. Following a bottle of cyber wine and slipping into something far less comfortable, I suggested that we take things a little further and we decided to delve a little deeper into the murky world of Sy’s past. We were fully expecting Sy’s past to be filled choc full of grimy, turgid, muckiness….a bit like those stains on the collars of your white shirts that just won’t come out even after a boil wash and a vigorous stiffing with a hard brush!

We were not however, prepared for the startling truths which we uncovered. Even as

 I write this expose, I struggle to control my nerves, and not just because of the Litre of Snakebite and fist full of Quaaludes I’ve just downed!

Sy, myself and Lady T are in fact……. TRIPLETS!

The product of an ill advised, illegal, illegitimately funded and, any other derogatory term commencing with the word ‘ill’, unfortunate laboratory experiment between a Hamster and a test tube, we were created by the dubious talents of professor Paul D. Otherwun and his partner in crime, Doctor Wendy Boatcomesin, in Bromley, South East London back in the mid sixties.

Myself being the oldest sibling by, ahem, several years is merely the result of basic thermo testubian freezonics (TTF) during which my brother and sister were kept in embryonic frozen state until such time as initial tests had validated the success of development. Two of us, myself and my brother Sy, were held in a secret lab in East Dulwich, London, from where I was placed into a regular family atmosphere when In new born status, I was swapped with my parents real son who is now better known as Multi millionaire entrepreneur Sir Alan Sugar! Ooops!

Sy too was swapped at birth and placed into a loving family in Maidstone, whilst Lady T was exported to the United States and formed part of a terrible mix up when she was accidentally swapped for a male baby who later grew up to become Bill Gates. Luckily, Lady T’s chosen parents had opted for a natural water birth and during an unfortunate incident in which the father fell into the birthing pool, after enjoying pre birth celebratory drinkies with the lads a little too enthusiastically, nobody noticed as midwife and insider Nurse Julie Noted, switched infants successfully.

The rest, as they say is history. The three of us have grown up simultaneously unaware of our triplet status, one of us some 4000 miles away in a land where the English language is merely borrowed and frequently abused!

The connections was so obvious. Lady T writes posts about animals that she is too slow to photograph, I exploit animals such as Alan the Fox (who coincidentally appears as centre spread in next months issue of ‘Fur Play’ £3.49 from all good seedy back street hovels), and Sy has complete conversations with animals and reports the interviews!

Then there are the other similarities…. Charm, sophistication, elegance, larger than normal IQ’s and the preponderance to do that strange thing with our tongue’s when trying to clear sweet corn from our teeth at social gatherings!

My friends, the truth is out and believe me when I say that nobody who is shocked by this revelation is as shocked as the level of shockidity that I experienced when I discovered the shocking truth.

Like the film in which that rubber faced buffoon Jim Carey is watched throughout the entirety of his life and doesn’t know because he is such a moron….. the lives of Sy, Lady T and myself have been analyzed from birth to the present day. What’s more worrying is that the powers that be are also monitoring all parties who regularly view the blogs written by the three….. THAT MEANS YOU.

I suggest you switched off your computer and make a bid for freedom into the hills while you still can.

Sy and Lady T, I know a suitable safe house, follow me!

FLOOG

Well there you have it.  Floog uses words like “Vigorous stiffing”.  I googled it, but because of my young mind, my Mum loaded NetNanny on my PC so all the results in Google were blocked. 

Yup.  My insanity comes from my older brother and sister.  It is fair to say that they got the brains and I got the least pocket money.  And as you can see, Tamera already nicked the beauty part in her post.  So yeah, I am left with nothing.  *sniff*.

I hope you enjoyed hamster takeover.  I will be back with something way less amusing tomorrow!  In the meantime, bookmark Tamera and Floogs site.  Visit twice daily and do not consume their posts with food.