I'm gonna learn you somethin'

I feel bad for people who have never had the chance to go a State Fair. I feel marginally guilty for people who have had to go to crappy State Fairs, like Nevada or something. It's generally accepted that the best state fairs are all ones that are either Texas or someplace that grows a lot of corn. We can all ask Emily about this one later, but for now I'll just accept it as truth. At any rate, I naturally wanted to attend the Fair this year since I have been in some sort of hellishly cold cess pool for the past 5 years. They have no 1,183 lb pigs up in Boston, let me tell you, let alone a butter statue of Elvis that's as tall as I am. That whole experience has led me to today's post, which is not only about my favorite Fair-induced experiences, but also an attempt to teach those that are less fortunate about the joy that are carnies.

But first things first: I felt surprisingly craptastic this past weekend, so going to the Fair on Sunday was more of a struggle than normal. It's bad enough to have to get up at 9 on a Sunday and debate whether to bring a smaller purse for convenience sake or a larger one to hold all the precious and completely pointless items that I buy (julienne fries, anyone?), but to have to get up and remember to put on pants because your head hurts enough that it's hard to concentrate is an entirely different ballgame. That's not to imply that everyone at the State Fair will be wearing pants. It's not the pure delectable debauchery of the yearly Renaissance Fair full of people wearing outfits that would blind a $2 hooker if she saw them, but there's plenty of people who seem to be confused on how to either wear bras or shirts that fit.

After finally managing to get to the fair, there's always the discussions of what to see first. Fairs are places rife with indecision because you never know quite what you're going to get. There's always sheepdog demonstrations and dogs with frisbees running around. Last year we went to a French Canadian man who swore he had trained his cats perfectly. Imagine my surprise, perfectly trained cats! My cat bites me if I don't pet her belly fast enough, I can't even conceive of a cat that will hop on one paw on command. Naturally, his show was primarily cats running into the crowd the moment they were let out of their cages, much to my delight, but it's a good example on how things that seem so right can go so wrong. However, there are always the staples of the Food and Fiber pavilion and Exhibitions. If you have never had the opportunity to have a man try to convince you to buy the most inane vacuum cleaner in the world, then you are missing out. I have rarely met sellers who are better than those at the Fair. They take products that literally NO ONE in the whole wide world needs and convince you that you will die tomorrow if you don't have them. Sometimes they work as advertised, usually they don't, but there's always a show associated.

I personally enjoy going through the Livestock because I hella love pygmy goats. Did I see any pygmy goats this year? No. Did I see a 1,183 lb pig that had testicles that weighed, and I am not kidding about this, about 15 lbs apiece? Yes. Was it uncomfortably awesome? Sort of. The ranchers and their children in the Livestock Pavilion are really sort of a world of their own. It reminds me that, despite living most likely 3 hours or less from most of these people, I have really managed to live a world apart. I have been to many a ranch, seen a calf being born, rode plenty of horses, and cried when forced to camp, but I do not shovel manure and get kicked by cows on a regular basis because my parents tell me to.

Finally, we headed over to the Midway, the bastion of Carnyville, ie the Midway. Carnies are a breed unto themselves. I personally believe that you don't get the proper carny experience at something as posh as the Texas State Fair. The real trick is to find a little fair out in East Jesus and talk to the guys missing eyes and legs who drink while they operate rides and leer at 15 year old girls. Those are the real carnies and must be respectfully avoided if you don't want to get molested and/or die. However, there are mild carnies running around the Fair in Dallas and are usually a sight to behold. Of course we went to go see the two headed albino python, both heads of which were tasting the air with their tongues and, apparently, both heads eat, though only one head was really leading the other. Ew. I named him Boris. At some point the State Fair became too good for bearded ladies and misshapen people, which saddens me to no end, but there was a Sting Ray exhibit to, you know, learn. I also managed to go on a ride that pretty much ruined my chances of ever having children since it shook my womb like a baby-making maraca.

However, my personal highlight of the day was paying $10 to go through the State Fair haunted house. Despite loving horror films, I'm not really a huge haunted house fan. I was a little put off by the whole situation and have burned into abject fear before, but I figured if they let 10 year olds in, I could handle it. Little did I know. Apparently, the State Fair employs primarily pre-pubescent boys for their haunted house and, I'm not going to lie, I'm not really frightened by cracking voices telling me that I'm going to be gutted. By what? Your Xbox? At some point one of them definitely lunged at me and I yelled, "DON'T TOUCH ME, CARNY!!!" which I feel a little bad about in retrospect. I also told some shirtless 14 year old at the end that he should be wearing clothes and that his mother wouldn't be pleased. I did, however, enjoy all of the glow-in-the-dark paint on the walls that said nothing even remotely frightening. They could have drawn teddy bears and that would have freaked me out more. I wonder if this means that I'm jaded. Also, Fair food, not so good for the diet.