unfair.

neighbors,
i wasn't gonna do it.
nope.
this year,
i was not about to be about it.....
but,
then i remembered a little something-
too much is the right amount,
and dammit,
i have few enough, and vastly distant far-flung far apart bright spots
in my woodsly goodsly hermitage,
so when there's something good going on,
and i can join in and enjoy the doings and goings on,
i'd be really very F*ing foolish to miss out.
there are certain things i get weirdly psyched about,
and there are other other things i have an obsessive compulsion to participate in.
neighbors,
the hotbed of hottness,
and the den of doo-doo butter are sometimes the exact same place,
and today is the motherF*ing day for a whole hot doo-doo explosion to hapen,
with accompanying amazement,
and an unhealthy helping of super-robo-sharknado gluttony.
where does something like that even happen?
i'm glad you asked.
today, my friends,
is the first of eight awesome epic heroic hungry humpty-dumptin' days
of diabolical dopeness, furious folksiness, aggressive agricultural animal abusiveness,
rotten-toothed rednecktard rides, and fabulous, ferocious, fantastic F*ing falafels.
the fryeburg fair is officially in full effect.
yuuuuuuuuuuuup.
that's what's up.
and,
that's all i'm prepared and equipped to care about for the foreseeable future.
i've even activated my old tin bum'cup, and dusted most of the dirt off of it,
from it's vaunted peg in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
check the homemade-rootbeer-type teleport:

it's okay not to drink,
but it's a sin to avoid the root beer stand.
i mean, c'mon.
rules is rules,
and this is the eighth year i'll be using that funky can
for root beer chuggin' champion-style sips and gulps the whole week long.
i'll be at work too damned early,
and i'll be working too damned much,
but,
that's what's good for me;
and what's better is an icy mug of sarsaparilla,
and a couple of long-lost and lusted-after hot and fiery falafels.
that's what the Folk Life furnace requires as a fuel source
to reignite my love of all things excellent.
after an extended extensive absence that feels like an eternity,
i'm ready to go and indulge in the closest thing to a vacation
that i've taken in literal chronological years.
after work, i'm working on a fat gut and sloppy butt full of falafel chunks
and tahini glue to hold me down.
guys,
this is my favorite full fall fair funtime,
and despite disregarding almost every single stall, kiosk, barn,and hut,
i still love love LOVE LOVE LOVE the effing fair.
it feels like new england;
it feels like really real communal good tidings;
it even smells weirdly good,
a powerfgul potpourri of sausage and poop and sugar and everything else;
it feels like where it all really happens,
and that's what i want to feel like the most;
never quiet, never soft.....