Can you believe its almost over?
This weekend marks the end of another State Fair. A tradition since 1968 (because, of course, if it happened before I was born, did it really happen? If a tree falls in the woods and nobody is around to hear it, is the Pope Catholic? So many questions, so little time...) (Speaking of questions, My-Sugar-Na, after reading yesterday's post about no real news about the State Fair in the paper, wants to know who won the Celebrity Cream Puff Eating Contest. As she says, "that's news we've just GOT to know".)
My-Sugar-Na and Sloppy made their way to the Fair on Friday evening, while I stayed home and parked 12 cars on our yard (and five more on the neighbor's yard, as I am a heck of a nice guy). Last year, I told the tale of (Sponsor's Name Here)'s Official Father, who allows himself $20 to blow on crap in the Expo hall every year, and that My-Sugar-Na takes that to heart. Last year, she bought a window cling that says "Pomeranians Rule the Road" (Side note; I find that dubious, because earlier in the year I saw a different car that had a cling that said that "Cocker Spaniels Rule the Road". Who actually determines which breed of dog rules the road? Where is the official sign-up? Is it a part of the Westminster Kennel Club festivites? And why dogs? I was in Yellowstone a few years ago, and I must say that a herd of buffalo walking down the road is much more ominous than a silly little dog.)
This year, she
blew her money wisely purchased a fleece throw blanket with a couple of Pomeranians on it, and also a big ol' fridge magnet that says "Pomeranians Rule". I asked her to just give me the money so I could invest it, but alas, she declined.
But speaking of dogs, last year at the State Fair, we went into one of the barns and they had dogs and vets and stuff like that. One table offered Doggie Kisses for $1. I thought I slobbered her pretty well at home, but she liked that particular doggie so much that she bought two. As we were wandering the Fair trying to walk of some Crazy Grazin' overindulgence, we got to that same barn, and it was filled with Clydesdales. "What the...", My-Sugar-Na exclaimed in freight. She didn't accept the likely explanation that in food chain heirarchy, really big horses can overtake a barn of little mutts with some ease. Clearly, said I, the Clydesdales ate the dogs. That look of sadness that over took my wife when she showed me a wad of singles that would make any man walking into a strip bar envious...
Gotta run. Laura should be here any time expecting me to sell her a $10 parking spot for $5....