Do you understand how difficult it is to pinch pennies? Do you!? I try to mush the stupid thing between my paws, between my teeth, and I’ve even sat on that cold coin for hours to make some magic happen. I need opposable thumbs! With a thumb I could indicate my pleasure by pointing that bad boy skyward or show my displeasure by simply rotating my articulating wrist a solid 180° with that thumb firmly extended groundward. You must be asking what’s the deal with all of this penny pinching in the first place, right? Do I have a particular ire for Honest Abe and just want to squeeze his bearded Marfan’s face? Nope. I would squeeze it, but more like a mother squeezes a son’s face because I proud of that man. Am I trying to squish the penny into a one of those cool commemorative coins you may get at your local museum, amusement park or aquarium? Nope, but that’s a good idea. The official Hambone-squished collectible penny could be a serious money maker!
In all honesty, the penny pinching is just an effort to pay for my ongoing encounters with health maladies. What’s the deal with me!? The whole world loves the Hambone! It’s odd that the Hambone’s only enemy is the Hambone, no? You wouldn’t believe it if I told you, but my rear left engine went out this summer and will need to be fixed. Yup, the ol’ kicker finally lost its steam and will be joining the club for after-market modifications. Is my manly talk confusing you? Well, my back left leg will be going under the knife for a slight modification so it can act more like a leg rather than a dangling piece of Ham meat. Not only is my leg acting up, but my most beautiful mouth decided to rebel against me last week. Instead of giving the best kisses ever and eating the tastiest brown bits of food, my mouth was dangling open reminiscent of the late Roger Ebert. Hard food was impossible to eat and my attempts at drinking water were similar to an infant trying to eat soup with a spoon for the first time ever. Water, water everywhere, but not in my mouth! Mom brought me to some evil lady who prodded and poked me in regions I’d rather not discuss. This lady then made Mom and Dad force disgusting treats on me which only made me unhappy until they finally got it right and gave me some face-wrenchingly bitter treat that Dad called…um…pretzel zone? Sure, that sounds right. Anyway, those nasty things turned around this whole limp jaw game and my top and bottom teeth can reunite to crush the dreams of squeeky toys.
The world, again, is my oyster and I am going to eat it! This winter I’m also going to run all over the world with both of my rear engines in working order. For now, I’ll be searching under the cushions for coins, popcorn, and skittles!
-Hampro bone-o
Come on popcorn!
My Life as a Ham 