In fact, here's what I'm having today. |
Also, you get a tiny fork.
Dr. Livingstone among the Pygmy forks. |
My hands are awesome. |
Choreography by Florenz Ziegfork. |
There's got to be something I could do with my tiny fork army. I'll bet they could be arranged into something artistic:
Also looks sort of like a freaky ribcage, no? |
It's a trivet! Or maybe a potholder. I never was good at crafts in Girl Scouts. |
Maybe something a little friskier, too:
Or I could recreate famous works of art! Like "The Scream":
Or "American Gothic":
Or Magritte's "The Son of Man":
And of course, Leonardo's "The Last Supper":
Oh, it's accurate; I take my fork art very seriously:
I may be on to something here. I could waste so much time arranging my tiny forks into vague approximations of things. Music videos. Movie scenes. Obscure sexual positions. I may have found my calling. Not so impressive, as it turns out. Kind of sad. Eh.
This isn't over, people. I'm going to keep eating noodle bowls and collecting tiny forks. You've been warned.
Excellent.
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