I Was So Frigging Wrong

A bit of a handful

I thought a better way to get back at the carnies would be to assail them with both little girls and two of their friends. Four girls between 8 and 10 should be enough to drive them nuts right? I didn’t have a chance to notice, because I was constantly trying to keep track of the four of them. Also, it turns out that carnies don’t pay attention to the rules that are written on their signs, and will allow children that are three feet tall to go on a ride that has a 48″ minimum.

I guess I shouldn’t assume that they don’t care. It could be that they are unable to read words or string those words into sentences. Yeah, that makes a bit more sense now.

As we wandered the fairgrounds, looking for the next ride, a young voice cried out:  “Look, a girl with no shirt on!”

I craned my neck in all directions, brimming with excitement, only to realize that she was talking about the top half of a buxom blonde painted on the side of one of the carny booths. Her hair was strategically placed to cover her ample breasts, and her come hither smile was most certainly making me blush.

I said:  “It’s probably a mermaid.”

I mean really…who wants to start explaining to a ten year old that some of the workers in a traveling carnival might not be the purest of souls?

She replied:  “Oh yeah, because not all mermaids wear sea shell bras. Some of them can’t find enough sea shells.”

 

That got me thinking , maybe that’s the reason my old neighbour out west never wore a bra either. Seashells are probably very hard to come by when you live on the Alaska highway.

Another thing I have noticed is that the carnies are a harder looking bunch than they used to be, what with neck tattoos and piercing of all known extremities becoming so popular these days. I was actually a little frightened to put these children into the care of someone who looks like he might be a striker for the Hells Angels by night, and run the Tilt-a-Whirl by day. Actually, if the Angels ran the midway it would be a much tighter ship, and probably a lot easier to find weed.

Speaking of weed, it’s harvest season and if there is anyone who needs confirmation on how good their crop is, just drop a bag off to the old Birdman. I will smoke some and tell you what I think of it. I will then publish your name, strain and prices on my blog, along with all of your contact info. I’ll also let you in on a little secret… The bigger the bag, the more I’ll like it. 😉

You are all beautiful to me,

Birdman

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