Friggin’ Rodents

My brother had a hamster when we were kids. He first named it Princeton (because he was obsessed with their lacrosse team at the time) but then we discovered it was actually female and he changed the name to Princess. Princess was…well, many would think she was cute. All fuzzy and small and hamster-like. I thought she was kind of cute myself. And then my brother, like all good big brothers who are trying to prepare their little sisters for the real world, started torturing me with the little rodent by putting the damn thing on me and letting it climb all over me, knowing full well I wouldn’t do any thing to hurt a defenseless animal no matter how much I was freaking out from the feeling of it’s little rodent feet all over my bare arms. Thanks, Neal. I still have flashbacks, but at least I know I’m prepared for the horrors of the world.

So, imagine my happiness when I saw these. Oh joy! Fake hamsters! Aimed at Japanese women between 20 and 40 years old. Now I kind of want one to help me get over my dislike of rodents. Actually, you know what? I don’t want one. I’d rather take that $11 and go buy myself a couple of beers. Much better therapy.

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