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Docs Hamster

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  • Docs Hamster

    Okay Doc, so you stumped me on this one.

    What's this about Richard Gere and a hamster?

    I'm getting these wierd photoshop images in my head.

    Inquiring minds want to know...
    Attached Files

  • #2
    Oh, those beloved beady little eyes...

    A history lesson...

    The Sixties in America saw changes that were far beyond what was experienced before. Coming out of the relatively prosperous and innocent Fifties, Americans lit into the Sixties like never before. Mores changed to incredible degrees, scientific advances changed our lives. The Sixties, and the following Seventies, brought us the sexual revolution, the feminist movement, the birth control pill, civil rights changes, relaxed stances on abortion, increased use of illicit pharmacological agents, the horrors and the agony of the futile Vietnam war, along with a relatively new form of political change, called assassination. Yes, the Sixties and the Seventies brought a lot of changes to our little world.

    Nothing compared to the havoc it eventually wreaked on the animal kingdom....

    The Sixties and the Seventies also brought with it a more relaxed attitude towards homosexuality, both male and female. Homosexuality has been with us through the centuries and the millenia, but, in the past hundred years, it has not been a widely accepted form of sexual practice. The relaxed attitudes of the "anything goes" Sixties and Seventies", followed by the "me oriented" Eighties, caused the world of homosexuality to erupt and open itself to the rest of humanity. As sexual mores changed in the heterosexual world, so did it change in the homosexual world.

    It changed, to the point where it was noticeable. If you lived in New York or San Francisco during these time periods, the changes that were happening were incredibly obvious, almost to the point of being "in your face". And, that's probably the best way of describing it. The reaction to years of hiding one's "lifestyle" and suffering the indignation of public humiliation led to a veritable swing far to the other direction. The gay scene in the US, especially in the big cities such as NY and SF, went truly overboard.

    I had the opportunity to watch all this, as the rest of us other New Yorkers did over the years, but, I had a more focused view, solely because of my occupations at the time. I not only drove a paramedic ambulance during those years, but I also drove a NY taxi cab, and on the weekends, spent a great deal of time volunteering in some of the wackiest (and most dangerous) NY neighborhood hospital Emergency Rooms. I also worked as a medic for the National Park Service, on one of the largest NY beaches, part of which was a haven for the NY homosexual community (the various "communities" of different races, creeds, and nationalities all had their own little areas; the turf wars, and the cross turf attacks and battles, were a source not only much work for me, but, much amusement). Later on, I did some ER doc work. I haven't seen it all, but, I've seen most of it.

    The gay scene in the seventies was truly obnoxious. I'm not against anyone having a good time with whomever they want to, or whatever they want to, in the privacy of their own home, but, the whole scene of men holding hands and kissing publicly, was a bit irritating. The transsexuals, the transvestites, the pedophiles, the gays, the lesbians, and mixtures of all of the above, paraded on public streets, flaunting their new found independence to the world, not really giving a shit about who they offended. It really got out of hand.

    For example, gay bars sprouted like weeds on the west side of NY, under the old West Side Highway. These places were havens for gay men who were looking for "a good time", which, usually meant, having sex with some other guy, that they probably didn't even know the name of. In fact, it was not uncommon for a gay man to have sex not only with one partner in a night, but, with multiple, ten, twenty, fifty, and sometimes more. Some guys liked to be the donor, some the recipient; the recipient, might avail himself to a long line of men in a bar, accomodating not only the "little guy", but also, fists, pool cues, beer bottles, and, other various objects. It was not uncommon for me to get these guys and bring them to the hospital, or, treat them in the hospital, as a paramedic, and later on, as a physician.

    The things we found in rectums was truly unbelievable. Coke bottles, wine bottles, various battery driven electrical devices, you name it, it probably got stuffed up there at one time or another. The problem was, these guys would get these things impacted in themselves, either by themselves or with help from any number of other gay men, and then, they wouldn't be able to get them out. Tennis balls, various types of vegetables, even, and if you can't understand the previous objects, you certainly won't understand this, concrete. Why the hell anyone would pour uncured concrete up your ass and let it harden, was totally beyond all of us in the ER. But the best rectal object that I've come across, was a can.

    A can of soup actually. We saw it on xray, a metal can. And the patient's lover eventually told us that it was Campbell's Tomato Soup, which, from what we also found out, was his favorite. This led me to start humming, "Hmmm, hmmm, good; hmmm, hmmm good, that's what Campbell's soup is, hmmm, hmmm good". After a few bars of that, I had the entire ER humming the Campbell's advertising jingle. Truly a hysterical night. But, the poor bastard with the can up his ass certainly didn't find it funny, not at all. Especially when we told him that he was going to need a laparotomy (surgery) to get the damn thing out. Tried as we could, we couldn't grab hold of the can with anything, so that we could pull it out.

    The story ends with his lover, who, once he found out that we were going to have to take him to surgery, got pissed, and said something like, "Oh hell, I just hate when he does this. I'll get the damn thing out...". And with a tongue depressor, and some KY jelly, he did.

    I couldn't stop humming that damn jingle all night.

    But, after a while, the gays needed to find something other than "other men", "other vegetables", and various and sundry objects to stimulate their prostates with. Don't even bother asking me why they do this; I've been told that prostate stimulation "feels good" (which I certainly don't concur with, having had to do god knows how many rectal examinations on men in the past; women tolerate it better). No doubt, there is some psycho-social reason for the submissive act. But, it's not important. Things change in life, and the gays, no strangers to improvisation, changed too.

    And that's when the animal kingdom underwent a scourge unlike anything ever seen, since the eradication of the dinosaurs.

    The gays started to buy gerbils. And hamsters. Pet stores around the New York area were not only making a fortune, they were puzzled and confused about the sudden interest in the furry little creatures. A new sport was born in the gay bars of New York. Gerbilling.

    It kind of goes like this (and by all means, don't try this at home kids). The recipient, most probably after servicing fifty of his friends in the bar that night, would remain bent over the chair or pool table or what have you, and someone would take a cardboard tube, the kind that you find in the middle of paper towels, and stuff one end, in the recipient's "receptacle". Then, someone would take a hamster or a gerbil, and send that poor little guy down the tube on the most outrageous spelunking adventure of his life. Once the hamster was in the guys rectum, the tube holder would remove the tube, thus trapping the hamster inside the guys rectum. The guy would squeeze down his anal sphincter muscles, and thus, the little rodent spelunker was trapped.

    OK, this is truly bizarre. It gets better.

    The stimulation comes from the fact that the hamster, very much alive, starts wiggling around in there. Well, of course, if you were a hamster stuck in some guys ass, you'd wiggle around and look for a way out too. But, oxygen, and other gaseous levels being what they are in human rectums, (all depending upon what he ate, of course), the poor hamster certainly didn't have much time to wiggle or explore. In fact, after a short period of time, the hamster, hypoxic on the verge of death, would suffer seizures, and then, eventually die. It was the seizures that triggered the gay man's stimulation and, from what I was told, ecstasy and orgasm.

    Oh, to be a hamster in the seventies and eighties. What a horrid existance!

    One could only imagine the conversations that were taking place in cages all over NY. Hamsters running on little wheels, scheming about what they were going to do to fight back against this travesty. They no doubt, came up with a plan. They most indubitably did.

    They struck back. The hamsters got smart. Once inside the guys rectum, instead of just wiggling around before seizing and dying, they decided to dig. They dug with their claws, they bit and chewed with their teeth. And, eventually, some of these poor gay bastards ended up in Emergency Rooms, with holes in the lower rectums. Holes that protruded through, to the sterile and moist inner abdomen. Now, the peritoneal cavity (the space inside the abdomen that the bowels and other organs reside in) likes to be clean; a shit covered hamster is not good for its health. Gay men started to arrive in ER's with severe unexplained peritonitis. Unexplained that is, until an abdominal x ray uncovered a small, small, rodent skeleton.

    It was war. The hamsters against the gays. The gays were killing hamsters in the droves, the hamsters were killing gays here and there. Enough gays were dying, enough to trigger a new industry. A new market erupted. Suddenly, hamster sales started inching upwards again, but this time, with a middle man. The market for toothless and clawless hamsters was born.

    Yes, someone bought these poor little hamsters, ripped out their teeth and claws, and then sold them on the gay market. The hamsters started losing, and the gays started enjoying their little "send the rat on a trip" games.

    All of this publicly came to light when some celebrities were rumored to have been discovered, in various ER's across the US, with tiny rodents in places that tiny little rodents normally don't inhabit. After a while, public outcry about the practice, and the rapid eruption of AIDS in the early eighties, caused this horrendous nightmare to diminish.The days of gays doing outrageous things, for personal pleasure, and no doubt, for shock value, among other things I can't understand, were coming to an end.

    I think.

    Next time you go into a pet store, check out the hamsters. Look into their little black beady eyes. Look at their little furry faces. Watch their cute little paws.

    If you see fear, the nightmare is not yet over....
    Experienced Community organizer. Yeah, let's choose him to run the free world. It will be historic. What could possibly go wrong...

    "You're just a jaded cynical mother****er...." Jeffpeg

    (more comments in my User Profile)
    russbo.com


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    • #3
      errrmmmq

      yep another example of too much information..

      im scared for life now though..
      "did you ask me to consider dick with you??" blooming tianshi lotus

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      • #4
        LOL

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