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Monday, June 14th, 2010

First and foremost, welcome to PushingUpRoses 2.0!  I hope you guys like the new site design.  The old one was nice, but..out with the old, in with the new.  ALL COGS ALL THE TIME.  The art section is finally organized, and I put up a new section with some new pieces. There are also some new videos in the [finally] growing videos section.  Look for more videos soon!

Anyways, I am pretty excited about this time of the year.  Why, you ask?

Because it’s summer!!  Break out the tanning lotion and bathing suits, baby!  It’s time time for some fun and the sun, get laid in the shade and- ……What?  I have to work AND go to school this summer?  Oh.  Well.  There must be something I can do before my classes start that defines what summer is all about…something reminiscent of my childhood, yet still appealing to my adulthood…something with disgustingly fattening food and quasi entertaining rides and games…something like…


That’s the ticket!  Ever year, there is a carnival sponsored by my old church right down the block.  I make it a habit to go at least once every year.  This year I decided to eternalize my visit to the carnival by capturing memories using my trusty picture box. So, I bring you, the ultimate carnival adventure, in pictures:

I walk myself down to the carnival, and immediately find myself in a Calcutta like nightmare with prepubescent teens and miserable sweat soaked parents toting around their youngins.  This place was packed, and I found myself plowing through gaggles of …(shudder) children.  Above is snapshot of said chaos.  This picture doesn’t quite encapsulate the population of this carnival though.  I can safely say, I have never seen so many teenagers in a church parking lot before.

So whats the best part of all carnivals?  No, it’s not the beer garden.  It’s the rickety, terrifying, run by questionable carnie people who most likely know nothing about operating heavy machinery RIDES.  Here is a snapshot of Hitler’s favorite ride, Das Feuerball.  Every now and again, between the shrilly screams of the youngins, I swear I could hear this thing pop and creak.  These carnie rides are getting more and more dangerous looking by the minute.  What ever happened to the Merry-Go-Round?  You don’t hear stories about tragic Merry-Go-Round incidents.  If this thing breaks down, you are -dead.-  I decided to pass this one.  Instead, I went on:

….where I promptly got sickish.  Nothin’ like being whipped around in circles for a good two minutes straight.  It is also impossible to ride this thing without SMASHING the person next to you, so if you go on this, ride alone.

At some point, the inevitable happened, and I found myself having to pee.  It’s my own damned fault for not going before I left, then bloating myself up with a pot of oolong tea.  So I had to use one of these outhouses.  I am not sure who that random red shirted guy is, but this shot was eerily empty compared to the amount of kids who were always swarmed around these things.

…this was a bad idea.

There were not any of those plastic sheets around, so I manufactured one myself out of the toilet paper.  As you can see, this was a good idea; there is a bit of…erm…liquid, being soaked up by the tissue near the top there.  Ugh.  Why.  Why did I drink all that tea?

Remember the old days when you could win a fish?  Then it would die on the car ride home and you’d sob to your parents for about 20 minutes, then the next day it didn’t matter because it’s just a FISH?  Well, no more.  Now you can win hermit crabs!  And if you don’t win the hermit crab, you can win a bowl that COULD occupy a hermit crab one day.  I’ve always wanted a Hermit crab cage.  Seriously though, you can’t see it, but the sign literally said “Win hermit crab cages!”  Is there a popular need to own a hermit crab cages without owning a hermit crab to put in it?  At least it can’t die on the way home.  Not satisfied with winning an empty bowl?  You could also win…

….an…inflatable monkey?  Sure.  I can’t think of a smarter thing to do than to pay 5 dollara to win a prize that probably cost 2 cents to make.   The temptation to pop this things with a safety pin was kind of overwhelming.

….I have nothing to say about this, other than I laughed for 5 minutes after seeing this sign.  What do I have to do to win this exactly; give some carnie a blow job?  I can’t even win myself a damned empty hermit crab cage let alone a Wii.

OH MY GOD.  They have captured and killed all of the carebears, and are now using their dead bodies for an impossible carnie game you can never win!!! What has this world come to?!  My childhood! Nooooo!

After not winning any games and feeling slightly queasy from rides that whip you in circles, I decided to partake in what happens to be a true carnival tradition. The elephant ear.  This thing was an absolutely huge, greasy, sugary, messy, calorie filled, carbohydrate NIGHTMARE.  And I enjoyed every bite of it. Elephant Ears > Sex.  Fact.

And now for an extremely unflattering picture of myself enjoying elephant ear.  And when I say that, I really mean that someone held up some elephant ear in front of the camera, and I pretended to enjoy it.  Humid is not a good look for me.

I decided to finish off the night with a trip to the beer garden, because a band was playing and from what I could hear, they were actually really good.  I regret not catching their name.  I never actually made it into the beer garden, because the amount of completely plastered middle aged people grinding in front of the stage terrified me.  I guess this is where all the parents congregated after giving their kids all day passes for the rides and games section of the carnival.  I am pretty sure there weren’t any people in there under the age of 35, and all of them..all of them..were feeling no pain, lets say.  So I stayed outside the fence area to watch the band, and the creepy bald guy who kept making eyes at the lead singer.  Crrrreeeeeeeepyyyyyyyyyy.

Ah.  What excite…ment.  Hrm.  Somehow, I didn’t feel the joy of the carnival I used to feel as a tyke.  As a tyke, I think I would have been way more excited about winning that inflated monkey, or that empty crab bowl.  Needless to say, the trip was a bit lackluster.  …And I can’t wait until next year so I can get sick, eat grease, and pee in a box.    There’s just something nostalgic about a carnival, something that makes us feel young and excited and irresponsible.  It doesn’t matter how many drunk middle aged men tell me they like my tattoos and obviously stare at my breasts, it doesn’t matter how many kids I have to steamroll over to get to my favorite ride – it will always be a tradition.  Next year, I’m going to win that wii.  Hear you me, it will be mine.