Fair Follies: Part Four
life·@generikat·
0.000 HBDFair Follies: Part Four
<center>A Look At Some *Fair*-ly Interesting Male Behavior</center> --------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------  Sure it is fun to read about ingesting deep-fried, glucose laden delicacies, look at cutesy pictures of insolent livestock, and visually intake the chaotic splendor that makes up a country fair, however, I found some incidents that took place of the periphery of the fair's main happenings rather more amusing. Ironically, most of the amusement that I enjoyed was offered courtesy of the Y chromosome set. There are things that the males of our species engage in that defy explanation and set off incessant laughter in yours truly. I'll give you three examples of hilarious male behavior witnessed at the state fair. <center>*The Pick Up Artist.*</center> ------------------------------------  Every year we park next to our friends in camper village at the fair. This set of friend's youngest son is really something. At ten years old he weighs about 60 pounds, suffers no lack of confidence, and has the ability to raise even the most sedate person's blood pressure. I love the little guy, but there are times that I want to, at the very least, throw baked goods in his general direction. So, they were handing out lots of free swag at the fair, and all of the kids amassed no small quantity of free things, from candy to insulated lunch sacks. I probably have enough free car wash coupons to last until at least next fair. One of the freebies was a fake foam rock with a local excavation companies logo adorning it. Nothing makes one want to do business like getting a fake rock. Anyway, my little buddy, being an enterprising sort, elevated his fake rock possession to a new level of creative pursuit. The kid took off to his friend's fifth wheel travel trailer and carefully concealed himself behind an open window. He then proceeded to toss the foam rock out the window at the feet of, and I quote here: *"hot chicks."*  <center>*The chick magnet, er....rock.*</center> <center>That is a new kind of pick up artist a brewing right there!</center> ------------------------------------------------- Next we move on to **waste elimination**. Sunday night we were cleaning up the pig barn after we had tore down all of the pens, and I noticed that my son and one of our male pig leaders were talking animatedly and laughing profusely. I had returned from carrying a pig feeder out to our leader's truck, and honestly was in need of a mood boosting informational tidbit after weaving through about 100 hot and crabby 4H people trying to kill me with sheets of plywood and sawdust filled wheelbarrows. <center>*"What's up?"* I inquired with no small amount of dread. </center> <center>*"Why don't you ask your son."* the leader said chuckling.</center> <center>*"Someone went poop in the urinal."* my son replied dryly.</center> <center>*"Wow."* was the only thing I could come up with in that moment.</center> Now, the deuce dropping in the wrong receptacle is nothing new, but I kid you not, every male in vicinity had to go inspect the spectacle. I spent the rest of the clean up time vastly amused at their, *"DUDE! That's nasty!"* comments and laughs. .JPG) <center>*The urinal abuser is about as accurate at shot placement as one of these guys.*</center> --------------------------------------- Speaking of bodily functions, I shall now move on to my final observation. Our suburban had been parked all week in the fair's very dusty parking lot. My husband and I were getting our trailer ready to depart to our homeland when a bunch of teenagers that I know came strolling up to me looking mildly horrified. <center>*"What's wrong guys?"* I inquired.</center> <center>*"Someone drew in the dust all over your truck!"* one of them blurted in return.</center> <center>*"I see."* I replied.</center> You got to hand it to the fair dust Picasso, he has his male reproductive anatomy down pat. The many phalli that decorated my dust covered suburban were at the very least anatomically correct in their composition. I got an especially big kick out of the thoughtful note he left my husband: <center>*"I hope your wife is as dirty as this Suburban."* </center> <center>So nice to know that today's youth care about my cleanliness status.</center>  <center>*Actual portrait of the dust doodler*</center> Later that evening I hopped into my filthy car and drove my disgusting carcass home, accompanying me were two dust and manure covered children. It was dark, and in all honesty all I cared about was a nice hot shower and a change of clothes. After achieving that bit of respite and a nice long sleep I walked out the next morning to go to work, and found myself smiling, for the Dangly Bit Picasso had inscribed the trunk of my car with his masterwork. An engorged male reproductive organ bedecked the entire span of my car's trunk. I went to work more than a bit dusty that day. ------------------------------------- <center>*And as always, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's rather dusty but free of male appendage pics iPhone.*</center> ------------------------------- <center>Want to read more @Generikat posts?</center> ---------------------------- ------------------------------ <center>https://media.giphy.com/media/uOYFAiLuW83Yc/giphy.gif</center> <center>[Click Here!](https://steemit.com/life/@generikat/it-s-a-total-takedown)</center>
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