Menu

Freshen Up Backtrack Guestbizzook The Myth, The Legend.

Other Stuff

Bananas NORML The Onion Corporate Dirt Diggity Diaryland Mass Production Instant Holler

8:20 PM -- 2005-10-04
Traditionally, there aren't shootings at state fairs.... but we do it big in Dallas.

Here's the thing about fairs and carnivals... strange place of ugly muses.

My brother and I went to the state fair this weekend. Its a fucked up situation, tripping balls on x in the middle of a sea full of freaks. Not to mention the fact that september in texas is still pushing 90 degrees, and I had the cold sweats of a junkie. Years of drug use comin right out of my pores, sucka.

I rode the largest ferriswheel in north america, high as a kite sitting on a bench.

And don't fucking forget the bit with the miniature cows, got a good evidence snapshot with one of those. I sat floating on a magic carpet having a heated religious conversation with a rude llama. Never trust a llama to be rational, or polite.

As I was sipping a margarita, strolling down the midway, out of nowhere jumps this drum marching band. The solidarity and order of a serious marching band is a very intense thing. Held my gaze until 2 minutes after it turned the corner out of sight.

My brother was being a poon and refused to go to the pig races or the horror house.

Fairs and carnivals are a ripoff, but don't complain... its the very nature of a fair that I kinda dig. I'm kinda cool with it because I only go to this shit once every few years... so its alright that carnies try to rip me off.

And besides, how can I get angry when I'm riding down the midway on a winged unicorn??

Anywho, on our way home, not more than two blocks from my crib, a cop hits his lights right up on our bumper. Now at this point I was coming down from that trip, and not in the mood to get into it with the fuzz. I looked at my brother and he told me that he didn't have his license or insurance... and he had a pipe and a few roaches somewhere in here.

In tx, if you can't show that ol boy you license or an insurance proof.... its jailtime... not to mention the dope lying around. I knew this was going to crash now. The cold sweats come back, I just wanna smoke a blunt and watch wrestling.

So anyways, after back up came around the corner, six policemen gather around the floodlight in this neighborhood at 12am. Just to make sure we didn't pull anything funny of course. So we get outta the car, brother gets patted down, and this officer Ponch asks me if I'm absolutely sure I don't have any weapons. Sitting on the curb, surrounded by police with arms akimbo like a fucking drill team, I just thought about the shit I gotta scramble up to get out of jail. As the cop searches the pickup, he grabs this big ass steak knife out from behind my brother's seat. 'cut many steaks with this?' Know that my brother is country-folk, and its not uncommon for farmers and bootleggers to carry knives. Its really easy for people in texas to play the hillbilly card.

And visions of incarceration doth dance through my head. I was sure one of us was going to jail... but because my brother told him outright that he had a little pipe, Boss Man done let us go. To make the whole experience even weirder, he gave us back the pipe. No confiscation?? Inconcievable! But it happened... my brother tried to give it up, telling the cop to take it, but he waved us on and told us to have a good'n. Didn't want the paperwork, he said.

The knife showed back up behind the seat when we got back to the crib. Really fucking strange hooplah. Did I mention that those fools also had a K-9 out there? Well fucking a' if these guys give me something to scratch my head about. I just don't get it.

Afterall... saturday night's alrigt for fighting.

Sa Da Tay.