I Chose Hampture

I have unearthed what can, simply, only be described as the most awesome thing to happen to the blogosphere since I stopped hearing about Perez Hilton's largely worthless opinion on everything from everyone.

ONLY HAMSTER.

This monumental discovery is that of the blog I chose Hampture, whose by-line reads, "The scientific pursuit of underwater hamster objectivism." To rephrase that in a way that even remotely means something, this gem of a blog is seriously about a friggin' Hamster Rapture (or, more appropriately, Hampture).


Here's a useless, completely uninteresting fact to read while you let your brain process what I just said:


"Women's rights are entitlements and freedoms claimed for women and girls (LOL!) of all ages in many societies."

"Hamsub 1, hailing Hampture. Do you read,
Hampture? Over."

Yeah, you heard me right. Rapture. For hamsters (oh, make the constant italicizing stop!). I mean, what do you even say to something that crazy? Take, for example, you're sitting there reading his most recent post when your girlfriend catches you. All she can say to you is, "Reginald, I almost wish I had caught you whackin' it to guys instead." And you hang your head in shame.

In all seriousness though, there's no way you have a girlfriend.

Seriously serious, though, Hampture's creator is brilliantly insane. Andrew Ryan has nothing on this guy. Andrew Ryan sent people underwater. Brotip: people aren't good guinea pigs! Hamsters are good guinea pigs. Everyone knows that, dude.

So, if you haven't already at least opened this mastermind's blog yet, then I am going to italicize you to death.

Italics, mofo.

P.S. Love ya, Perez.
P.P.S. No homo.
P.P.P.S. I'm trippin' italics, yo.