The girls chose the fair, and they’re feeling ornery. I dare any dirty hawker to tell T that she’s not tall enough for their ride today. The child scares me sometimes, when she gets that look in her eyes like she just ate a can of fury. I can picture the mayhem now, and it pleases me. I do love when carnies are kept on their toes. You know those vermin are just arising from a drug/alcohol induced slumber and can’t really handle shit like a real person. I want to see kids puking in the seats of the Teacups and the Strawberries by 11:00, and if possible someone could shit themselves on the Gravitron before noon. That’s when the bastards start coming out of their haze and start the harassment of the passersby. I like it when they try to goad me into playing by insinuating that I can’t win at their game. I usually counter with “Yeah? Well at least I win at life.”, then I strut away laughing maniacally towards the street meat and deep fried Mars bars. Sweet baby Jebus in a manger, I love those five dollar bundles of ecstasy, sooo rich with nutrition. I’m kind of wanting to try the deep fried Coke too, but I don’t think it’s made it to the southern Ontario fair circuit yet. I do know that the tooth cracking pull taffy is there, and that’s good enough for this hillbilly.
Take the high road,