As my practically innumerable fans have pointed out to me, the spork-related cascade of information and opinion for hobbyists, collectors, and fetishists alike, has waned to a non-existent flow for a year and a month. But fret not, this waterfall shall run anew.

I would like to apologize for my absence, but fret not, this temporal spacing has been well spent. At first, I was growing increasingly disillusioned by the traditional whir of spork-related life in my native home, the United States, so after careful consideration, my cogitations urged me to be spontaneous. In order to be like the versatile spork, I traveled from corner to corner of the world, obtaining and dispensing sporkly related knowledge.

At first, I needed excitement. Argentina beckoned me, with its loose spork-like shape. I went to country, dispensing knowledge and wisdom, but my single-spork purity was quickly degraded by Argentinian hedonistic spork-whores. They tempted me with glimmering spork tips, all unadulterated by clothing. I went for sporkhouse to sporkhouse, unashamedly sucking on those prongs at every possible chance. But one day, I experienced a harrowing realization of the depravity of my moral character. So quickly I packed up my little remaining food, money, and sporks, and headed for Tibet.

In Tibet, I gave my remaining material possessions to the sporkly monastery and gave up the outside world. Inside that humble collective, I devoted my time to anapana meditation in order to appreciate the innate humanity of the spork-kind. After some months (the days just run together like the spoon portion of a spork), I decided that I had learned enough about myself and learned to be cognizant of the metaphysical powers of the spork, so I worked my way back to the United States by a combination of hitchhiking, working sundry jobs, and prostitution.

So yes, I rearrive with my sporkly-appreciation unabated.