eleven.

falafels!!!!!

yes.
another day at the fair.
i bet you're turbo jealous.
no?
then you're dumb.
the fair is awesome.
affirmative. positive. positively affirmative. etc.
the sounds, the smells, the sights, the works....
we spent a lot of time milling about,
observing the awesome, the excellent, the righteous, and the radical.

there's so much elite hottness to experience;
like a whole entire booth of stuff made out of antlers.
yep.
baskets, pens, mirrors, magnifying glasses, buttons, lamps, eagles.
what?
yeah, antler eagles.
i tried to get a snappy shot,
but mr. mcoy, the utilitarian antler-art guy,

wasn't having any of that.

he's got interests to protect, after all.

apparently,
antlers are the answer,
but that answer is NO.

the fair has it's share of not-dopeness, too.

i choose not to focus on the dirty doo-doo buttery downside, though.

what the heck, in the interest of real-life documentation;

you wanna know the absolute gayest thing about the fair?:

this guy.
steve drove all the way up from faroff salem, 'assachusetts,

to eat dead bird bits and drink sodas.
he didn't have any falafels.

his sauce is weak,

he lives in mass.

no one is shocked.

still and all,

it's always good to see my friends.

not a whole lot to say about this sandwich.

...except that it was flippin' delicious.

i think that there's as much garlic as chickpeas in the brown blops,

and there's easily double that amount in the tahini.

is there garlic in the pickled veggies?

uh-huh.

how about the v.h.s.?

oh yeah.

cloves of damnation are roiling and boiling inside my bellyhole.
you'd better believe i'm glad i think vampires are dumb,

because there is no freakin' way that i'd have an interview with one...

not with this dragonmouth hot fire spit blasting out of my breathbellows.

wolfen warrior poets, however,

are not adverse to tarnished tongues and blarney blisters,

so i should have no trouble competently communicating with my peers.

whaaaaaaat?

yeah.

another 'nother 'nother falafel.

i'm as surprised as you are.

be easy,

i was there all day,

and all that walking around makes a man develop a healthy appetite.
therefore, it makes a real man develop an unhealthy appetite.

that's number eleven,

in case you're counting.

you'll have to excuse me,

but i've got to attend to the science project in my stomach;

never quiet, never soft.....