One fateful day, amid dread and leftover clay, the first Hammie was born—and they've been sprouting up like mushrooms ever since. Feeding off a heady pall of unhinged desperation and sheer cheek, they've been proliferating into a mass of munchkin minions armed with a twinkle in their eye and a bone to pick.
Inspired by my husband, The One I Call Ham, each Hammie encapsulates a "Hammy Moment." This is a point in time when one of my (ongoing) inconceivably outrageous actions has elicited from him an exceptionally incredulous reaction, prompting its immortalization in a clay blob known as a "Hammie." And since each Hammy Moment is unique, so is each Hammie.
These clay blobs are then molded and cast in resin by the metric ton so that they may infiltrate your life and progressively take over the world as one quivering, vapor–locked gestalt, to reshape it in their image…portly, perturbed, and resplendent with cute belly buttons. They are a patient race. You will bow before them soon enough. You know you want to.
These clay blobs are then molded and cast in resin by the metric ton so that they may infiltrate your life and progressively take over the world as one quivering, vapor–locked gestalt, to reshape it in their image…portly, perturbed, and resplendent with cute belly buttons. They are a patient race. You will bow before them soon enough. You know you want to.
