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I went to the fair on Sunday, and got a lot of sun. My poor shoulders are now in the process of shedding. I will admit it,and I am not ashamed, I love the fair. I almost ended up with a bunny, and a pygmy goat but JM talked me out of it (total party pooper) So there I was bunny,and goatless waking up and down this row of fried yummy goodness. I was torn on what I wanted to stop my heart. I have a bad time making choices, and everything looked sooooo good. I would get in line for one thing, notice the thing next to it,and get out of line to get into the next line. Poor JM, had to follow me while I lined hopped all the way down the alley. 

When we were walking down the midway, one of the carny’s doing the games yelled out “Hey, Batman.” of course I looked up, because…well I’m Batman. JM started laughing at me, and then pointed down at my tank top I was wearing that had Batman on it. I told him it had nothing to do with my shirt, and everything to do with the fact that he knows my true Batman identity. 

There was a rodeo going on, and even though I grew up in the country I have never been to one. How did you like it, Joy? You ask. Well I will never be able to date a cowboy. I was actually cheering for the baby cows to get away, and after getting some serious stink eye, JM finally lead me away, before they horse tied me…well, maybe  never mind. 

JM also tried to convince me to bungee-jump (JM is also known as the instigator) He almost had me talked into it, but then I pictured it and my imagination got the best of me. I couldn’t help but think of my boobs popping out of my bra, and my nipples lodging into my nostrils. It was a very vivid picture. When I explained this to JM, and I caught up to him while he walked swiftly away from me mumbling to the sky that he had to get stuck with me. We both decided that bungee-jumping probably wasn’t the best thing for me.

Now I know you are wondering what I ended up clogging my arteries with. I got a very phallus looking corndog, yep I went with the classic.  I was telling my client about this, and of course he had to go pervert man, and asks me if I put mayonnaise on my corndog (insert eye roll) I said that no I did not put mayonnaise on my corndog, and I didn’t really trust carny mayonnaise. He was still on is pervert kick, and was thinking about mayo in a very different way. He asked me what carny mayonnaise would taste like, and I answered what I thought carny mayonnaise would taste like (bad decisions, and crystal meth) Sounds right to me. 

So, next time you are at the fair and pass the big plastic jug of carny mayonnaise take a deep breath, and smell the bad decisions, and crystal meth aroma. 

Sorry this was a very random post, but I am still not thinking correctly from all the fried food, because you have to know I also got a funnel cake.

BAM