I don't even know how to lead this off, so I'll not embarrass myself by trying. Let's just dive right on in. 2 days ago, I had a bad day. I have a lot of those, but this one stands out. First, I was dealing with the unpleasantries of womanhood. (I'll spare you the details) but just know that I'm feisty on a day when I don't have a demolition derby happening inside my womb, or the fucking river of Egypt running between my legs. When those events ARE taking place, it's best to stay the fuck away. Well, it was one of those days when I had to go outside, versus holing up in the dark to wait out my misery like I WANTED to do!
I was stuck somewhere I didn't want to be, doing something that I didn't want to be doing. You see, my step-daughter had to dance at some local carnival for her dance company. Following that, she had to walk in a parade. This in it's self is not the problem. The problem was that her mother never told us about any of this shit until the day before, and then she promptly hopped her ass out of state, basically waving and saying good luck. We had plans for this weekend, but everything had to be shuffled around. Not to mention, that on this day of outdoor festivities, the weather god's took a big fat shit on us! Where it had been sunny and 80 for weeks, it was suddenly 50, cold and rainy. So me, with my river, derby, attitude and a pissed off three-yr old in tow, were really not in the frame of mind to be dealing with such.
Anywhoo... we get to redneck carnival 2012. I use the term 'carnival' loosely here. It was basically a parking lot that held apx 4 rides, being operated by the best of the carni-world. --SOME actually had a few teeth that could be seen through their chain-smoking, while assisting tiny-tots being strapped in to flying death machines assembled over-night by these masters of their craft-- Out back behind, there was a little pavilion which would serve as a 'stage' for the dancers to perform. Now, I use the term 'dancers' loosely here as well. It's basically a bunch of little girls ranging in age from 4-17 dressed like Vegas working girls, gyrating and pelvic-thrusting to masterful musical pieces such as "I'm Sexy And I Know It" . On the far end, there were several blow-up toys for the kiddies. You know, like the bounce house. This actually would have been pretty cool If I wasn't constantly dodging the lit cigarettes of the mothers carrying their shoe-less toddlers, or being plowed into by the not-so-occasional stray child. At this point in the game, the weather is holding out. It's chilly, but dry so I'll suck it up. My 3yr old son and 9yr old step-daughter decide they want to get in line for one of these blow-up activities, so the husband takes them over while I frantically dig through my purse for some Aleeve. Upon approaching them now in line, I find myself in the presence of one VERY happy caterpillar!
Why is this caterpillar so happy? Well, because it's being penetrated repeatedly by kids, through what can only be described as it's 'FOLDS' ... Please, just take a moment to view this picture. I'm confident that you will see what I see. I see a giant peach-colored vagina that kids have to crawl through. Also, You see that HS football player standing there? His purpose is to separate the labia... I mean folds so that the smaller children can crawl through successfully.
**This 17yr old boy can officially start his senior year truthfully talking about all the spread he got over the summer! **
So while the kids wait in line, and my husband pretends not to know me, I stand back taking pictures and laughing my ass off as kids repeatedly violate this giant caterpillar. THEN, just when it can't get any better/worse depending on how you look at it. (Better for the 'Happy Caterpillar' , worse for the kids who don't know they've just been violated) ... my eyes follow to the END of the attraction.
I couldn't get a wide-angled shot of the whole thing, because there were too many fucking people in my way.. but this is how the kids exit the attraction. After being vaginalized, they travel the length of the creature, going over and under pathogen-covered obstacles, only to be SHIT OUT! The giant caterpillar had it's fun, felt you inside her, is now done with you, and will now dispose of you in the most degrading of ways. I'm not sure what ass-hat thought up this thing, but I kind of love him. Being able to find inappropriate humor is the only thing that kept my ass out of lock up that day!
**This story is kind of long, and the rest is mostly just me bitching, so if you got off on the happy caterpillar, and don't want to keep reading, it's all good.**
After all this, we go park our butts on the grass in front of the pavilion to watch the 'dancing'. I'm still dodging dog shit, half naked babies (It's fifty fucking degrees outside) and the future of our world (The 300lb women * plural* who are pushing strollers with twins and quads while clearly knocked up with a cigarette hanging out of their mouths.) I used to be a dancer. The shit happening on stage is not what I would call dancing. It's seriously a series of pelvic thrusting, air humping little girls who's big attraction is when they turn around and shake their half-covered asses for the crowd. Grandpa must be so proud! Regardless, there's nothing to be done about it, so I settle down and try NOT to say out loud, any of the shit that I'm thinking in my head. While I'm not captivated by the 'entertainment' before me, what the fuck else do I have to do? And then, some stupid bitch does something equally stupid... she parks her fat fucking ass DIRECTLY in front of my face! I mean literally. We're sitting in the grass. On our butts. Half way through, Bertha brings her foldable chair over, opens it up two feet from my face and thuds down into it. I've never felt sorry for an inanimate object before this moment. The woman was HUGE. I tried to take a pic, but literally, could not get her whole ass in the frame. It was that big. I'm not hating on big girls here... I'm hating on them blocking my view of the entire horizon! Not to mention, if she had farted, I would not be alive to type this. Trying to calm my fury storm, my husband offers to trade me spots. Because I know there is just no hope at salvaging my mood, I reply to him "Nope! I'm just gonna stew on it, and use it to channel my rage." Surprisingly, he was not surprised by my response.
I always think, it can't get any worse.... right before it gets worse. So finally, while counting the number of curses I know, the heavens open up, and try to take us over the rainbow. 45mph winds, cold down-pour. Lovely. After this, was a 2hr long parade, in yet more freezing rain, and a whole bunch of other shit, but I'm bored typing, so you're probably bored with reading as well. I'll call it on that note. I have nothing imaginative to use to end this, or a 'moral of the story' ...