Last night for lack of a snack I ate a dill pickle and some whipped cream. Not together, obviously, but one after another, like courses in a fancy restaurant. So, yeah, my diet is going pretty good.
An undergraduate reading level isn't bad. I'm not complaining. But I find it interesting. Apparently AE and Dr. Ominus' write at the level of "genius". I'm curious to know what sort of things one has to write to be classified as genius. Course the whole thing might not be entirely reliable anyway, because Lance's Blog says that its reading level is Monkey. I don't even know what that means! (Besides, I'm pretty sure the reading level on Lance's Blog is "Uber Nerd".) But I digress. I need to trick the reading level machine. So I will pick a very important topic and I will write using lots of nice words and see what it thinks. Let us discuss Sporks.
I consider myself a huge Spork fan. A Spork nut some might call me! Thusly, my brain is a veritable fount of Spork knowledge just waiting for an opportunity to spew forth.
Any study of Sporks must begin where all studies begin - at the origination. The Spork was invented circa 1972, when a reputable handy man by the name of Von Fluke was imprisoned by a faction of Nazi's masquerading as hippies. He was appropriated by the Nazi's due to his widely acclaimed mastery in bicycle repair. He was sequestered in a WWII bunker/VW Bus and mandated to repair the bicycles in exchange for his deliverance.
(The Nazi/hippies spent their idle hours riding around in a large bicycle gang, harassing elderly citizens and ridiculing them until they bought their hemp jewelry. By way of retaliation, a resident at a frequented rest home knocked all their bike chains off the gears and the nazo-hippies had been perambulatory ever since.)
While awaiting their bicycle restoration they amused themselves by torturing their detainee. They served Von Fluke a lunch of Fettuccine Alfredo with a side of creamy chicken soup and informed him that he was allowed only one piece of flatware: A fork, or a spoon. As they simpered snidely behind their facial coiffures, Von Fluke, after only a moment’s speculation, requested a spoon. He then advised them he would require a hacksaw for the bike repair and one was promptly procured. You can surmise the rest. He used the hacksaw to fashion make-shift tines in the spoon and proceeded to eat his meal with all the composure and etiquette his mother had taught him. After escaping the Nazi's regime, he patented his idea, and sold it to gas stations and fast food chains across the country. Thank you Von Fluke!!