yeah!
soaking wet, dark, smelly, hot and humid.
no, not the inside of my pants....
The FAIR, mutha-uckas!
my ninjas at the siva concessions organic falafel hut were keepin' it real.
another example of making moves making a mark in folks' memories...
after 357 days apart, give or take,
they instantly recognized me,
as the 'swearing guy who ate a LOT of food every single day last year'.
if the shoe fits, right?.
not so much a lasting indelible impression as a sharp dent,
from, for example,
a heavy-ass wrench.
(that second loaded up falafel was too much, which is to say, the right amount)
what goes on top of hippie falafels?
cukes. lettuce. tomatoes. hummus. mixed pickled veggies. onions. tahini. hot sauce. pepper.
c'mon.
i've been reading 'caesar's commentaries'.
it's dope.
as a result,
all night i kept envisioning little gauls fighting in my bellyhole.
how does one get busy during the tail-end of a monsoon-sotted opening day?
with maple cotton candy?
sure.
creepy fries?
yep.
dough nuggets?
umm, okay.
midwestern style red birch beer?
of course.
it's like a pot of hobo chili,
cooked in a caustic cauldron over a flame-filled furnace....
7 more days of greasy gluttony to go.....
we saw some people we haven't recently seen,
we hung out a bit with people we rarely hang out with,
all kinds of stuff happened.
THIS is the part i remember:
hot cider and fresh falafels.
seriously,
i think i've said or typed the word falafel about 1100 times today.
taking it to eleven,
i had a third falafel for the road.
we wish you were here, friends.
we doo-doo all that freakiness.
keep an ear out,
more is coming;
never quiet, never soft...
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