Carny dinner

Probably gained a good 12 pounds in one night last Saturday when the call for dinner was carny food at the Livonia Spree, an annual festival/fair event in Kerry's and Matt's hometown. We hauled ass out there at about 6 or so, before hitting the booze-fest that would turn out to be Rian's party that night.

Started dinner with what Matt called the carnival's answer to the amuse bouche, the corndog. This was my first corndog experience. Greasy motherfuckers, but damn well worth it.

 

The Spree offered so much way in the way of chow and beverage, including these beauties:

 

 

 

We avoided most of that stuff and headed straight for the heavy hitters. Kerry and Matt threw down these bad boys,

while I opted for some steak and cheese action:

It's carnival food, man. You have to choke some down at least a couple of times in your adult life.

And speaking of carnival activity, it's been about 20 years for all three of us since we stepped foot in one. We looked forward to finding a Jack Daniels mirror or maybe those roach clips with the long feathers attached. We had no such luck. As the times change, so does the shit that one would consider tacky. It looks like air-brushed ghetto bullshit is the new stoner mirror:

 

At least Matt managed to get in a serving of vegetables, even if it was slathered in butter. Tell me that shit doesn't make you hungry.

Bye-bye carny dinner. See you in 20 years.