With the county fairs upon us in those states participating, I give an ode to the idea. Here are several things I loathe about the county fair. Now, for those of you in 4-H or who participate, accept my apologies. I am merely going on previous experiences, pessimistic attitudes, and rural ideology. Please, no hatin'.
Things I Loathe about "The Fair":
*My local county fair is a place for teenagers to show their cleavage, wear the shortest shorts available, and let their butt cheeks hang out for all the males to see.
*The fair is the one place a person can go and pass out from heat exhaustion in front of all the nice people.
*Carnies: (again, no hatin' on me for the comments) Those people who refuse to brush their teeth(gums) or hair, could grow potatoes under their fingernail dirt, and seem to be pedophiles because they flash their toothless grins at any female who is breathing, no matter what age. And where do they sleep? Those pop-up campers are from 1950 that arrive with the machinery! And cramming fifty carnies in one when it isn't known if any of them bathe? Wow.
*It's a brewery for trouble. Every bad-ass girl from school wants to beat up any "prep" who performs at the cheerleading event in the grandstands.
*It is a place that teens want to go just so they can see who is walking around holding hands with whom. Then, they can gossip about it up until the time school starts.
*It reeks of animal feces.
*It is a well-known fact that SOME of the 4-H'ers who spend the night in the barns with their animals sneak out to other barns to fornicate with the opposite sex. True! I've heard tales.
*The bathrooms are disgusting.
*Nothing is cheap, except for the atmosphere.
*All the kids who aren't in 4-H at school hate the ones who get Grand Champion on something because they usually get to miss a few days of school for free to attend the State Fair.
*The Fair Queen competitions is always rigged.
Needless to say, I will not be attending the local county fair. Those of you who choose to, good luck. Watch out EVERYWHERE for piles of dung. You never know where they'll be.
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