Just got back from a magnificent journey upstate to see my parents along with six of my friends and my lovely girlfriend, Eileen. We went to the Columbia County Fair to see the following: White Trash, Fried Dough and Sheep Balls, not neccesarily in that order.
Anyway, due to inclement weather and our over-appreciation for water-bottle bound booze we ended up getting a little silly and now I’m wicked sore, in some really weird places.
1) Bowling – Soreness Area: Arm and back.
Never go bowling with free Genny Beer and a bottle of vodka. Four hours of chucking a fifteen pound ball at a set of pins equals me not being able to brush my teeth because my arm has gone completely dead. I’ve been typing this with just my left hand and it’s taken all day to get this far.
2) The Change in Weather – Soreness Area: Face
Apparently summer now ends as soon as September begins which means I’ve got a ton of druids to beat up. Solstice my ass, it was 60 degrees and rainy all weekend and all of a sudden I’ve got a scratchy throat and a headache, wtf? I’m a little tired of all this talk about global warming and no results. I want icebergs floating down the Hudson River for my mid-November daquiris! Get on that, Big Oil.
3) Carnival Food – Soreness Area: Don’t Ask
Chocolate milk shake, pepperoni grinder (Extra Large), Coors Light (Extra Watery), Zeppoli, Blooming Onion, Funnel Cake, Cheese Fries and then rides called: The Fireball, Rock ‘n Roll Screamer, Gravitron, etc. You do the math.
4) Bungee Trampoline – Soreness Area: Crotchal Region
Okay, so at the Fair there was this ride. Well it wasn’t so much a ride as it was a collection of trampolines with bungee attachments above it that allowed you to bounce into the sky and do flips and shit. The Head Carnie in Charge (HCIC), warned me that as an adult male the tightness of the harness may cause me some discomfort. I scoffed at him, having gone rock climbing once or twice. Well as it turns out, he was right, about twenty seconds into my bounce-run the nylon straps started digging into my inner thigh and jamming up a couple pounds of flesh into my delicate regions. The resulting cinching effect on my pants made it look like I had severe elephantitis of the nutsackalicious area, which I guess was alright.
After about ten jumps total I started crying very lightly, asked to be let down and then limped away, bow-legged.