I liked this alligator. Though not old, it was humorous. Too bad it's not a crocodile, though, cause then I'd be rocking a crock pun. Whatever. I also loved this giant, inedible hoagie.
If I'd gone to Brimfield to take pictures, well, things would be different. Mainly, this post would be different. There'd be more and better pics. Maybe even a review of all the grub tents. There'd definitely be one of the kielbasa sandwich the dude next to me was eating. It had kraut (made in a two gallon crock?) and mustard gloriously dripping everywhere. Anyway, I did manage to get this hot pic of our french fries.
The place that sold these sold only french fries. Five bucks for this little paper boat of them, but worth every penny.
Nice and scenic. The woman seated in the foreground is apparently reading or sending a text message. She probably scored something good--and for cheap--and wanted to tell someone about it ASAP. Anyway, I'm out of steam for the day. Here's the french fry hut. Apparently they sell cold drinks, too.
3 comments:
things aren't quite as wholesome out in sin country, directly to the west of where I should of been born and stayed the whole lifespan: the E. Coast. I like the ferry that takes off and leaves that dumb Manhattan place behind (too many offices), and goes across a big river, and then you get to some cool shit. At any rate my stay on F***book is over cuz too many dudes checked out my profile: you know they're like "who has viewed you..." and it was a lot of pictures of pee pees. Totally bogus. So as far as you can tell I'm not getting much action. I focused on art, but found that it was too dry in the end, and I am the sort of bro that keeps his watch out for moisture every now and then usually, but there is none in the great desert. It's actually a Meditteranean climate or some shit, but who's counting.
the french fry hut picture is great. I hope I'm not disturbing anybody with my So Cal shit. At least you don't live in a place where someone asks you for something every day, so you're doing a lot better than me. Today I'm eating avacado sandwhiches on fresh french rolls, with mayo, mustard and salt and pepper. At first I was literally shut down by the price of avacados in california. I fashioned them truly to be cheaper in the midwest and pacific northwest, but chef simms has some mexican market bullshit where they're dirt cheap. As you can tell, persons such as this cheg, and Jono, have a lot more secrets than myself. But i have more toe-cheese.
I was just over at Chef Simms house. Jono is kicking his ass: he's fallen off the horse alright, producing undercooked and slightly dry angel hair pasta, with frozen peas, but I loved it anyway. I'm one of those mommy types, that like anything that my friends serve up, because all I know how to cook are peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I've grown to respect great chefs, but I've found that it is not who they are entirely, and that they often have other jobs: though I don't think any talented chef should be coal miner. As you know we are deep into a recession at this point. I was trying to help my friends, telling them they should sell all valuables, and only drink the cheapest lager. Sell your i fones, everything, you never know when your next meal with come. As for myself, I lost everything when the almight stock market collapsed last February. I live off uncooked rice and microwaved beans. It sucks, but I'm so concerned with tomorrow, that I haven't been to my bank ever since the recession went into full swing. My girlfriend's moods are above par: likely in all aspects directly related to the ecomony. so if you want all the answers, just walk around saying "economy, recession, stock market collapse" at all hours of the day, and then you will be right on target, and most likely to survive.
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