Hot Pepper

I don,t know if it,s like this everywhere, but in the town where I spent the first twenty years of my life there is a county fair every summer and it is filled with absolutely wonderful people. I remember going when I was much younger because rides that make you feel sick are fun and all of the cute girls from school would be wearing the shirts that the teachers said they couldn,t wear because it showed too much of their belly button piercings.

That was a long time ago though. Things have changed. I don,t care about rides anymore because I can drive and that is the coolest ride of all because if I want, I can crash or get really close to crashing because I am very tired and I keep taking micro naps while driving even though you,re not really supposed to do that. There isn,t a ride at any fair in the world that can make me feel as alive as almost smashing into a tree because I fell asleep while driving. Also, I don,t care about looking at girls in ugly clothes anymore because I have a computer and I can shut the door to my bedroom whenever I want.

Cornelius - Point It has been quite a few years since I,ve been there. I have no idea how long. Maybe it,s been ten years. I bet it,s close to ten years. I am old. I bet the fifteen year old me would think I was dumb because I am not even strong or cool or anything and I don,t skateboard anymore so he would think I was a corporate sellout. Little does he know that I am actually just very lazy. Take that, idiot. You,re going to grow up to be a balding, weak, insecure, mean, lazy nerd.

I think I might go to that fair this year. It,s been a kind of long time since somebody has called me a fag and really meant it. I want to see families of Juggalos drinking vodka out of water bottles while buying eleven dollar ICP stickers for their dirty Jeeps. I want to see sixteen year old girls puking because they ate way too many mushrooms. I want to see the scarred gut of a single mother protruding over her belt as she yanks the hand of a her neglected child away from what looks like a stack of rusted metal behind which a one-armed man is standing who is trying to sell oddly sized t-shirts with a yellow cat on them that says ,,Garpheild.,, I want to smell the stink of undercooked chicken and overpriced pizza. I want all of that. Call it nostalgia. Call it stupidity. I want to punish myself for what I have become.