STATE FAIR

Today we somehow found the gumption required to drag ourselves to the State Fairgrounds. Ah, the State Fair! Where everyday people can file into aluminum risers stacked against a wall in a large room that smells like wood chips and chicken piss in order to watch awkward teenagers jockey stubborn, bleating goats around a ring so a middle aged woman in wranglers can fondle and critique each animals’ teats. Oh, the State Fair! Where every conceivable foodstuff* is impaled upon a stick, deep fried, and eaten.

* Excepting only spaghetti, Jell-o, cod liver oil, and head cheese.