Mixed Nuts

I used to work as a cashier at Wal-Mart. You know it is a great job, because saying “I’m a cashier at Wal-Mart” kills a conversation quicker than Posh Spice stops a good soccer career. So, when I’m at Wal-Mart I try to hold entertaining conversations with the cashiers. They’re usually good sports. For example…

Me: “Your name tag says you’ve been an outstanding cashier for five years.”
Cashier: “Yea, but I’ve work here for 7 though.”
Me: “Did you slack off for two years and then pull yourself together?”
Cashier: “No, the stickers only come in five year increments.”
Me: “Wow, that is misleading.”

I rarely have allergies, but a few months ago Laura and I were at Wal-Mart to pick up decongestant. While there we decided to purchase artichokes for dinner. Wal-Mart was dead, so as the bored, middle aged, female cashier rang us up I casually said…

Me: “We’re making artichoke methamphatamines.”

She made no comment, no facial expression, no whisper, no strange face. She completed the transaction, and I thought it was fantastic.

State Fair

Freshly written blog rivals the taste of food at the Great State Fair of Oklahoma. Of course, the State Fair is where I spent Saturday evening, because nothing beats excellent food, people watching, and countless vendors selling products that I must have right now, such as a knife set, pirated anime DVDs, or a vanity plate that says “Cowboy Foreplay: Get in the truck, Bitch”.

Once Jeff, Daniel, Laura, and I paid the steep $8.00 per person entry free, we decided to partake in the highlight of the state fair: foods on sticks, such as corn dogs, fried cheese, fried snickers, fried oreos, fried twinkies, and various meat products. Yes, apparently hot dogs on a stick are much different from corn dogs on a stick.

The business model of the State Fair is based on the early viking principles of rape and pillage. Summarized as “You pay money for the opportunity to pay money for things.” It is a fine example of capitalism forcing communism. Laura and I didn’t want to spend $40.00 on food, so we spent $20.00 and shared a turkey leg, a jug of root beer, an ear of corn, and part of a funnel cake. In Soviet Russia turkey eats you.

Food at the state fair is expensive. It all starts at $7.00. Water is more expensive than a barrel of oil. The rides cost money and are fun, but only worthwhile if you have an insurance policy that pays massively for missing limbs. Instead, we passed our time by searching for a few things of interest…

1. The man or woman with the best mullet.
2. A zippo with a picture of a bald eagle gripping a marijuana leaf
3. Best Indian dream catcher booth

The best mullet search was awesome, except we found the winner within about ten minutes. I’m not sure if vocabulary exists to properly describe the combination of shine, bounce, and styling this mullet had, but the man had pizazz… and probably lice. Though we didn’t dine on as many sinful foods as we had planned, we still had a great time.

Sunday Evening with Damien Rice

Sunday evening, Kevin and I drove to Tulsa to watch Damien Rice perform. Mr. Rice had performed at Austin City Limits earlier in the weekend, and since it was a Sunday evening he didn’t have an opening band. Concerts are ten times better when there is no opening band because the concert starts on time. It was a low key, easy going concert. Very enjoyable.

Often women in the crowd would yell out “I want to sleep with you!” or “I love you!” To which I’d have to respond “Sorry, I’m busy watching Damien Rice.” Surely Damien’s requirements to be his groupie for the night are more picky than “Are you the one who yelled at me on stage?”

From the concert, I learned that you can say very explicit and dirty things to women, as long as you’re holding an acoustic guitar. Looks like the hammered mountain dulcimer I purchased isn’t the “chick magnet” it was advertised to be.