Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Corn dogs are my reason for living.

I just read an article about what NOT to eat at the amusement park. Read the article here.  I was grabbed by the headline, because I thought it was about which vendors weren't washing their hands or who was putting lemon-scented pledge in the lemon shake-ups, but I quickly discovered that the article was about eating healthy. Ahem.

I can't say that I really struggle with my weight. I have several pounds that I have put on since graduation, but I'm not obese.  I'd like to be thinner, but I don't have a weight problem.  And I am as allergic to the gym as vampires are to garlic.

That being said, eating that crap is WHY I GO TO THE FAIR.  I don't need a stuffed animal that will take my husband 14 tries to win for me.  I don't want to ride the kiddie rides... plus, they kicked me off them three years ago. Jerks.  I go to the fair to EAT A CORN DOG THE SIZE OF MY HEAD.  If someone told me I would never be able to eat another funnel cake in my life, I would collapse into a heap of sobs until someone sprinkled me with powdered sugar.

Maybe I'm alone here, but if I leave the fair with my pants fitting correctly, I've done something wrong.  My husband should have heartburn and I should be bloated beyond belief.  That's the American way.


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