Finally.

I know it took forever, but I lost the camera until yesterday, so…whatever. It’s here now, so eat up, my pretties.


This…is a big-ass ferris wheel. That black thing in the middle is the sun. And before you ask me if I rode it, think about what you’re asking, and who you’re asking. You know the answer.


It wouldn’t be a state fair without animals. Large, smelly animals. That spit.


Like this one. Fortunately, he never faced us. I bet HIS cameltoe is outrageous.


A baby….something. Hell if I know.


7YO trying like HELL to touch the baby something.


Mmmmm, diabetes. Seriously, this much cotton candy should just come with a blood monitor.


Ah, the centerpiece of the fair. This was the whole reason I wanted to go. Your eyes do not deceive you – they were selling fried coke. As in deep-fried Coca-Cola. They poured the coke into this sugary powder mixture, formed it into balls, deep fried ’em for a couple of minutes, and put them in a cup with whipped cream and more coke on top. The end result looked like this:

Oh yes. The fried coke. How was it, you ask? It was alright. Certainly not worth the 9 tickets ($4.50) I paid for it. It was much too sweet, and the liquid coke make the little coke balls all mushy. But taste-wise, it was alright. They had other fried delicacies there, too.

Yes. Fried Snickers. Fried pralines. Fried Oreos. I didn’t even get a picture of the fried peanut butter, jelly, and banana sandwiches, or the fried cosmopolitan. I have no idea what a fried cosmopolitan looks or tastes like, and I had no desire to find out. Some things are better left unknown.

Oooh, look. Laurie was there with her swingin’ pirate ship. Heard she’d let you ride for $2 and a pack of Now ‘n’ Laters.

The woman in the khaki pants? No ass whatsoever. Normally this type of thing wouldn’t register on my personal Booty Richter Scale, but there was such a noticable void there that it sucked my attention to it, like a weird black hole of ass. She had negative booty. It was concave, not convex. She was taking that drug. You know the one: Noassitol. And I think she overdosed.

Cheapest eatin’ in the whole damn fair. I nearly wept when I saw this sign, because I thought I was gonna have to take out a second mortgage to pay for dinner. At this point, I wouldn’t’ve even cared if they were real DOGS. For only $1, I just would’ve asked for extra ketchup.

I took this pic, not because of Wynona Judd or Tammy Whynot or Leann (Busta) Rimes or WHOEVER the assigned female country singer was there, but because those trucks you see on either side of the stage, up in the air? Those were real. There were 6 of ’em, suspended in the air like that. Now, I LOVE being on stage, but if you’re hanging Chevy products above my head, I’ll just wait in the green room. Put up some real hoes, not Tahoes.

Big Tex, the official mascot or symbol or mystic guardian of the Texas State Fair. I had fantasies of him suddenly coming to life and beating the shit out of the people who charged $4.00 for a hamburger, $3.50 for fries, and $3.00 for a drink, bringing a family of four’s potential total to $4 million for dinner. Screw you, I’m not good at math. And I’m sorry the picture’s dark…they didn’t have him lit up. Probably so he wouldn’t come to life and start flinging punks around.

Here’s me, in the bathroom, sick and damned tired of the 2006 Texas State Fair. To use a phrase from “In Living Color”, I was “Ret to go”. Holla if you know who said that on the show.

And I’m spent. It was fun. I wonder what they’ll fry next year?

I hope it’s Tang.

Peace.

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