I had a hamster my first year of college. It's name was Jon Nightmonster because it hid and slept all day, but made so much damn noise at night. I'm usually awake until lATE into the night, but when I'm ready for bed I hate ANY noise. He used to run on his wheel all night long. He kept trying to escape and rip his cage apart and make a damn mess, so I renamed him the Hamsterman of Alcatraz. We used to scream at each other all the time. Mostly me yelling at him, but he did his fair share of loud squeaking at me too.

Eventually the Hamsterman hated me so much and after biting me all the damn time, I decided he needed to be free. I fed him a huge Hamster Feast and took him out to the woods and watched him leave. I set him down and he just looked at me and ran. I know he probably died soon after, but if I didn't let him go I might have smashed him with a hammer or tossed him out the window. We both were on our last nerves with each other.

Moral of the story: Hamsters are loud and noisy and hate me.

The Doc

And you liar, teller of tall tales: you trample all the Lord's commandments underfoot, you murder, steal, commit adultery, and afterward break into tears, beat your breast, take down your guitar and turn sin into a song. Shrewd devil, you know very well that God pardons singers no matter what they do, because he can simply die for a song.