An Ode To Sporks

Today I had an appointment with my E.N.T. specialist (which is not what I am writing about) and on our way home we stopped at Taco Bell.

Well while we were there Porkchop asked me to get a fork, spoon, and a knife. Well I searched and searched for a fork but couldn't find one, all I saw was spoons. Well afterI picked up the spoon I realized that it was a Spork.

For the short five seconds that I looked at it I wanted to cry for the poor little thing. This wonderful utensil is the offspring from an incest encounter of the fork and spoon. A bastard child if you will, or a degenerate of the family so to speak.

How often do you hear people giving praise to this forgotten lost soul. I must write a letter of thanks to Taco Bell for keeping this species alive and striving. I am sure that when you think really hard about this poor mutated child and look deep in your heart, you too will want to cry. For this being has been picked on and made fun of ever since its little body emerged from the handle of its mother. I can see you now trying to picture this little creature being born from its mother. A fork (or spoon, not sure which is the female,) laying there on the table pushing with all its might and out from the handle pops the head of the spork.

So I stand in honor of the spork and am willing to fight for the rights of the spork. I am starting a group to help fund and pay for the ever growing expenses from constant counseling and mental therapy that these poor defenseless cheap plastic eating tools go through. I shall call it S.P.O.R.C. (Serious People On Real Cutlery). If you would like to make donations please email me at sporc@realutensils.wok. We only take donations in the form of broken plastic for recycling to make more sporks. Thank you for your time.