FAIR FARE:

Why is The Dark Knight Rises poster at the top of things today? Do I really need a reason to display such awesomeness? It's the goddamned Batman, that's all the reason any of you ever needs. Also, it's only a month away until the release of the film and I'm getting giddy. So… yeah, there's a reason for you.  Still, not that you needed one!

But we're not gonna talk about Batman or any such comic book related things for once… other than the above mentioned awesomeness that is. Besides potential blockbuster movies, another thing running through my head these days is the classic hit song by Martha and The Vandellas, Dancing in the Streets. Especially as crazy, stupid hot as it's been these past couple days, I can't help thinking the line: "Summer's here and the time is right for…" Well you know the rest, it's right there in the title for God's sake. Even though I suppose it'd make more sense for my mind to wander to Martha and the girls' other hit Heatwave in this instance. Then again, if my thoughts ever made sense well, we wouldn't even be here in the first place because I'd be out there doing something constructive with my time instead of babbling on to you guys about songs that came out before most of us were even born. Besides, I've always liked the Van Halen version of Dancing in the Streets better. Please don't tell Martha I said that.

I though chicks were supposed to fight when they
showed up to a party wearing the same dress.

For me that tune opens the floodgates of nostalgia, evokes memories of being a kid, just out of school, looking forward to three months of fun and hanging with my friends. Hot days like these meant donning our swim trunks and cracking open a fire hydrant to cool off, splashing around in the spray with few cares in the world and even less sense. Then before long we'd be throwing bottles at the firemen when they came to close the hydrant because apparently trying to keep yourself from bursting into flames is illegal but when a building is all ablaze no one cares how much water they waste. Fascists. That whole incident led to being chased by the cops because one of the firemen took a bottle to the face and lost an eye. Naturally, being fat and slow I always got pinched in such situations. Remembered the first rule though, kept my f@%king mouth shut, didn't rat out my buddies, stood alone and got sentenced to three months in the Abernathy Juvenile Detention Center thereby missing summer altogether only to be released just in time to go back to school in the fall and return to the hallowed halls of public academia a very bitter and angry young black man. 

Just another case of the Man keeping the
brother man from cooling off.

Didn't say the f@%king song evoked happy memories, did I? But hey, that's the price to be paid for being a f@%k-up! Unfortunately those little bastards in upstate New York involved in that whole Karen Klein affair probably won't get much more than a slap on the wrist for being f@%k-ups of the highest order. (Or would they be the lowest?) But I'm not here to talk about that because that's just real upsetting. Here's hoping good prevails in that one and karma graces those involved with acne severe enough to require surgery… or an iron mask or some shit like that.

UPDATE: The hooligans have come forward and apologized. Why am I not satisfied?

Ms. Klein will have the last laugh when her generation sucks 
Social Security dry and leaves nothing for those little f@%kers. 
Wait, that's not good for any of us. Shit! 

Back to the point, wait… did I ever have one? I doubt it. So out in the fly-over states they have different… less delinquent ways of celebrating the season, for middle America summer means swimming holes, lightning bugs and county fairs. And county fairs mean food on a stick! Shit you wouldn't ever think to serve on a stick is always to be found in abundance at county fairs… on sticks. Some of the stuff I've seen but never tried include Reuben sandwiches, spaghetti and meatballs, fruit pies, cheesecake and bacon wrapped french fries all with a sliver of wood shoved through it, ready to be eaten on the run. If people who ate such fare were ever truly the type to actually run anywhere that is. Usually that's not the case. 

Um… is this necessary? Wasn't pizza already a handheld food?

But I never thought I'd see the day when I'd look at something like a Spamsicle (so not making that up) and think: "Not the worst thing I've ever seen." Well that day is here my friends and it's all thanks to a guy named Chicken Charlie.

The true face… and chins of evil.

Chicken Charlie is a vendor outfit out of California that works the west coast county fair circuit serving deep fried… everything. You might have already heard about this bastard earlier this week as news surfaced about Deep Fried Cereal, his latest attempt to boost the economy by forcing us all into buying brand new power scooters. 

"Yeah, I got places to go so can I get that Big Mac on a stick?"

Check out a section of the menu they're hawking this year, thing reads like one long college hazing stunt. Yet the menu also includes items like tabouli, rotisserie chicken and even hummus, though somehow I doubt those items are moving out the door in record numbers. Of course they do serve some stuff on a stick too. Gotta stick with the classics I guess. (Gotta STICK with the… get it? Well they can't all be gold.)

I'd like to throw a witty comment in here, yet all I got is… DAAAAAAAAAAAMN!

You know what, I got shooting pains in my left arm just talking about this shit. So here's a comic strip for you to read while I attempt to use a taser to re-start my heart. 

PAINFUL REALITY UPDATE: F@%KING OW! Tasers do NOT make good defibrillators!