All's Fair

I decided that in order to do the Alice Cooper Free Titty Show post justice, I couldn't mix it with one about the Fair going public. That means that this post is about the walk through the FAIR.

Did I mention how much I HATE the FAIR?

I hate the Fair. It could be that my mother usually spazzed out over something stupid & small (usually a whiney Mumplette, truth be told); it might be that I know that in my home state, inspections of rides and attractions are fast and loose; it may very well be that I spend too much time around mooing and bleeting herd animals as it is, and can't abide the notion that I should pay admission to be surrounded by them. Take your pick of reasons. Mix and Match 'em, they're all true.

On the flip side of all that hate and frustration is the fact that I love the food. Funnel cakes. Sausage sandwiches. Lemonade. Snocones. French fries. I'll pay a lot of money for any and all of those delicacies. And that is why I do venture into a few Fairs and hometown pat-ourselves-on-our-backs fests. At least two a year.

As previously mentioned, My Sweetie and I had a hot date two weeks ago--to go to a concert at the FAIR. The Dreaded and Much Hated FAIR.

We paid to park at the local school. We paid a grumpy and dazed 14 year old girl to enter the FAIR. (As a side note: Children in Remedial Math should not be made to make change from an apron while standing in a blocked street. Ahhh, but then, Omens of Things to Come and all that applies, too.)

I have never (and I do mean NEVER) in my life seen such a collection of obscenely obese women in an enclosed area. It was like Wayne Zelinsky's Enlarge-O Ray went beserk in the Relief Office waiting room. Afterwards, instead of paying them a settlement, they handed out uniforms.

There were thousands of blubbery women. And each and every one of them were wearing a tye-dyed Tee and green (or pink, the color must've been optional) cotton elastic waisted shorts. And they were ALL eating. Sausage sandwiches. Ice Cream. Small Korean Family on a Stick. Pizza. Funnel Cakes. SnoCones. Corn Dogs. French Fried Midgets. Lemonade. Even the ones in line for a new and exciting tasty treat were already sucking down some serious calories while-U-wait.

The ambulatory ones were staggering about, weaving drunkenly between unsuspecting normal sized Fair Goers, muttering things like, "ooooo Funnel Caaaaaaake." Those who weren't muttering were the ones who were stopping mid-stride to stuff half a pizza into a pie hole. God help you if you heard, but did not comprehend the muttering. A woman, roughly the size of ORCA the killer whale would zip--yes, I said ZIP. They're quite speedy when hunting their prey--in front of you without warning.

There aughtta be a law regarding gross tonnage and change of course beepers. Seriously.

Finally, I have to tell you that the largest of these behemoths usually had satellites. Like the larger, gaseous planets you've learned about in elementary school, there were smaller, grubby looking children in orbit. Sadly and forlornly hoping for a SnoCone drip or a mozzerella drop, I'm sure.

By the time we exited the Godforsaken FAIR, I was wondering aloud where anyone found enough flour (and the iron stomach to commit the act) to impregnate these wonders-of-nature. Unless of course, he reused the flour...which is an even worse thought.