Folding, spindeling, and mutilating lauguage for fun since Aug, 2004
Thursday, August 31, 2006

I find myself with an extra half hour before I have to go to Plymouth (Minnesota) and pick up our God-daughter.

 

It seems like not really enough time to get into the task of gathering my thoughts on Thomas Paine’s essay “Agrarian Justice”…which I will eventually be inflicting upon you when I get a chance.

 

Rocky wants to take someone to the State Fair.  He is taking me to the State Fair to see Garrison Keillor on Friday.  That’s where I draw the line.  One short evening and I’m done.  So he is going to take our God-daughter this afternoon.

 

To me, the state fair experience boils down to a full spectrum sensory assault that includes getting bounced off the shoulders of several thousand smelly, greasy, sweaty Minnesotans who have been eating fried food off of sticks and washing it down with beer (I don’t think they have found a way to do fried beer on a stick yet) in the August heat for several hours straight…and then leaving with a migraine.

 

The State Fair, for me, is an exercise in refraining from a long string of impulses to commit deep-fried aggravated assault on a stick.

 

I assume that the dulcet tones of Garrison Keillor will ameliorate the effect the fair has on me.  I’ll let you know.

 

Over the years, our God-daughter (Panda Girl) has evolved into Rocky’s perfect State Fair companion.  Which is lucky for everyone.  Our God-daughter is my friend Sue’s daughter.  Sue reacts to the State Fair much the way I do.  Anyway, I bet these two birds-of-a-feather will have a great time.  And Sue won’t have to watch her daughter eat deep-fried pumpkin pie or a deep-fried Twinkie, or a deep-fried Snickers Bar…or whatever.

 

But while we wait for Rocky to finish work, Panda Girl and I will spend some quality girl-time together.  Don’t know what we’ll do, as I recently spent an afternoon of manicure/pedicure-type behavior with my niece, and my nails still look fine.  I think.  I still haven’t figured out how to judge when the nail polish is supposed to come off.  When the very first flaw appears?  After the first noticeable chip?  When more nail is exposed than covered?  So many questions.

 

Perhaps shopping.  Girls like shopping, right?  We do need groceries.  I suppose a trip to the archery range is not quite girly enough.  Anyway, I’ll think of something.

 

But while you wait for my laser-tight and ground-breaking modern interpretation of the concepts in Thomas Paine’s Agrarian Justice, why don’t you pop over and take a look at Conrad Zero’s take on self-check-out lanes.  Make sure you download and fill out the form he provides.

Thursday, August 31, 2006 6:32:57 AM (Central Standard Time, UTC-06:00) | Comments [2] | #
Thursday, August 31, 2006 10:30:25 AM (Central Standard Time, UTC-06:00)
Does everything with Panda Girl have to be girly? Why not get her started on bow hunting, even if all she ever hunts is the round target on a hay bale? No need for everything to be all chic!

As far as crowds of drunks smelly people, I deal with them every weekend for about two months, however, I get to do it from the safety of my little shop. I found that it is much less amusing when I have to push my way through them...though I feel more claustrophobic on campus during class change...
Thursday, August 31, 2006 8:51:24 PM (Central Standard Time, UTC-06:00)
BEST new phrasology I've heard in months!!!! I'm am SO using it. Can't wait to tell someone to back off before I "commit deep-fried aggravated assault on a stick." Beautiful. Just beautiful. I'm tearin' up. Of course the perfect opportunity to use it would be at the Fair, which I managed to dodge the bullet for already.

btw- When I called to check in tonight- Rocky said things were going great until Panda Girl fell off the gondola and was bloodied up a little. Then he muttered something about only a few bones being broken. Of course I was like, "Umm, WHAT?!!!" and then they both busted out laughing- all giddy, no doubt drunk on free milk and the overwhelming odor of horse manuever & grease.

Since I dodged the bullet here BIG time, how many lives do you spose that leaves me with?
Sue
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