Being strange is difficult sometimes.

I'm all cool with the bemused head shaking and puzzled looks I can get from time to time with some of my weird ways of thinking and a few of my eccentric projects. I sort of take it with pride, because that means I'm exploring the less traveled parts of my world. Right where I what to be.

But there are times when I feel like I've gone into the store to buy supplies for my roads less traveled and they just don't carry supplies for that sort of thing. I mean seriously I don't think plastic sporks and pink sock (in bulk) are that absurd a request.

But after the last few shopping trips I can tell you that nobody carries plastic sporks (I may have to make arangments with a KFC or Taco Bel manager, for the few I need to try out the project they are intended for, after that I know where I can order them by the thousand or more), and While I can buy some bundle of colored socks that contain a pair of pink sock I'd rather get just the twelve pair I'm looking for to last the first year (I would take thirteen though as there is some appeal to doing it as a sort of lunar arrangement, there being 13 full moons in a given calender year).

Sure people find the idea of spork art strange and angry pink socks odd, some of them are entertained when I explain them but the hurdle of finding the supplies nessecary to maintain my strange ideas sometimes is the end of a perfectly good adventure in weird.

But I a stubborn weirdo, so I shan't surrender this quickly,
Back again tomorrow,
Take care of yourselves;
Roving Jack