Hawaiian Adventure: Entertainment, Excursion and Examples of Bad Behavior

If you wish to read the first installment of this series, regarding our trip to Hawaii, click here.  If you wish to read the second installment, click here.  If you've already read both of them, you are a good citizen, worthy of food and drink and mild entertainment.  If you didn't read either, I'm sorry but you'll be going to hell, where you'll be stabbed, repeatedly, in the genitals.  Good day!

There was plenty of entertainment aboard our cruise ship, Pride of America.  I think, on this cruise ship/island adventure, compared to our other one, two years ago, we saw more stage shows.  I enjoyed them, honestly, except for the fact that my wife, who I dearly love, insisted that we sit in either the first or second rows of the theater to "get a better view."

Now the problem with sitting in the first couple of rows during these stage shows is that you are risking getting picked out to participate in some of the entertainment provided.  You could find yourself involved, such as I witnessed of other passengers, in part of a comedian's act where he or she makes you look like an endearing dumbass, of sorts, or you could get almost literally pulled in, off your seat, by some muscular male Hawaiian dancers to dance with them or the Hula girls, on the stage, in front of hundreds of strangers who were delighted and relieved to be sitting away from the front of the stage.  Being a shy and modest guy, I didn't want to participate and at almost every show, there would always be a performer wanting me to participate.  I would always wave them away or kick the air towards them, saying "NO!  NO!  NO!", but they would persist.  I guess I just looked like that type of guy who would be great living material for their act.  A natural fool who would cause the audience to laugh until they pissed themselves silly.

Notice that they are sticking their tongues out.  One of the narrators and dancers said this was the way ancient Hawaiian warriors greeted and welcomed each other back in those ancient days.  Either this is true or they're just showing contempt for the U.S. for taking over their land.  Nahhhhh. 

Holy buhjesus!  I do enough crazy stuff in front of friends at parties when I'm drunk enough.

Gratefully, they would take the hint, after several attempts to get me on the stage and coerce some other poor bastard to "join in the fun."  Hell, I came to be entertained, after all, goddammit.  Not be part of the entertainment.

The food on board the ship was pretty good at the buffet.  Some of it, however, was a weird mix of cultural food dishes.  I think they were sort of trying to please everyone that came from different countries around the world.  That meant you would see a Chinese/American/Russian combination or something else that was bizarre that you could stare at for hours and never quite make out what was in it, exactly.   We often went to the Aloha Cafe, which was a buffet where you could eat and eat until you puked- which I did- but it wasn't because I ate too much.  I'll explain:  When I eat too fast or I don't chew everything down into itsy bitsy molecules, I tend to easily get food stuck down my throat.  And then, embarrassingly enough in restaurants, my breathing ability ceases and my face turns blueish and I have to make a mad dash to the bathroom so I can stick my fingers down my throat to get the food out.  And no, more to drink to get the food down never works for me.  Believe me!  I've tried thousands of times.

In any case, one morning while we were eating breakfast at the buffet, I'm trying to quickly eat an omelet, to widen my throat a bit, in order to swallow my six different medications I take every morning.  Unfortunately, a chunk of ham gets caught in my throat.  My wife is away from the table, up at the buffet, somewhere.  Of course, I start my ol' "I can't fucking breathe" routine and I try to make it to the bathroom on this huge ship.  Remember: I'm halfway crippled because of the problems with my feet.  So, there I go, hobbling and desperately trying to make it to the bathroom with food kinda going up and the back down my throat while I sweat, profusely and turn blue.  When I finally make it to the bathroom, I find that it's locked and occupied and then I suddenly vomit, right on the spot.  I violently puke with my hands over my mouth, trying to keep the vomit from going to where it ended up- on the carpeted floor, in front of the bathroom.  Hooray!  Here's a picture.  Luckily, my camera was in my pocket.

Sadly, you cannot see any chunks of ham from my omelet.  Congrats to me for actually digesting some part of my breakfast.  Man, look at all the halfway digested eggs and cheese!

  

I wonder if that piggy is still alive or maybe just resting comfortably with an apple in his mouth.

We went to a luau on the island of Kuaui and that was entertaining.  Free booze, a train ride through the old sugar plantations, native Hawaiians making stuff to sell to tourists, Hula and fire dancers, lots of stage performances and an all you can eat buffet.  Check out the video, below.



I had five margaritas that night (they would make any kind of mixed drink you wanted) and my arm was getting kinda tired so you'll have to forgive the "shakiness" of the camera. This video is kinda long but it's entertaining.  The entire stage show was really long and absorbing, truthfully.  Very entertaining.  Especially when one of the fire dancers dropped his fire sticks a couple of times, which you'll get to see on this video.  I was hoping one of the guests would go up in flames but I don't think it happened.  I only captured the last eight minutes of the performance on camera. You may want to "full screen" the video to get a decent view.  Maybe not.  They are doing a play or story about a couple, in ancient Hawaiian days, who want to get hitched, so to speak, but the chieftain father of the bride to be doesn't want it to happen.  The end to this play/performance really made me believe I had ingested some magic mushrooms off the buffet, by mistake.

Hawaiian  artist dude carving out a wooden fish of some sorts.  I didn't bother him.  I was afraid he might use that pointy thing on my leg or nutsack.

We went to a lot of shops on all five of the islands we explored and bought a lot of souvenirs for friends, family and ourselves, of course.  I bought a tiki, for example, made out of milo wood, that represented a god that gave you strength, guidance and family protection.  I bought it and talked to the local artist and shop owners, most of which were native Hawaiians and they were very friendly.  We talked a lot about their crafts and the history of Hawaii.

I talked to the owner and artist of this gallery and shop on the island of Kona.  She wasn't a native Hawaiian but she was interesting and incredibly talented.  You can see more of her artwork below.

This is where I bought my tiki.

This is the wife and I, standing in front of a hundred year old tree, in Kona square.

Every day, the maids would come into your cabin, while you were gone and make different animals, just like the previous cruise ship we were on, Freedom of the Seas.  These animals, which to me, were works of art and made completely out of towels.  One day, you would see a lobster on your bed, the next day, perhaps a dog or a swan and so on.  Below, you'll see me celebrating the fine work these maids do in creating these masterpieces.

Humping a towel bunny and holding onto it's ears so it can't get away.  I think I "orgasmed."  Is that a word?

This is the Na Pali coast.  It is truly beautiful and has a mystical quality to it's landscape.  Beneath the picture, you'll find a video of our ship, passing by it.  There was a lot of wind that day- so you'll hear a lot of that.  This video is pretty short, too.

This is one of the last big events we experienced on our week long cruise.

We had a long layover at the Honolulu airport at the end of our Hawaiian experience.  This really didn't bother me.  They had plenty of things to look at, such as displays that contained Hawaiian history, various paintings, cool shops and more.  Naturally, I explored.

We had a great time during our Hawaiian adventure.  I hope you enjoyed this last installment of the series.  Aloha and mahalo, everyone!

Good Food on 420 Day or Any Other Day

The following is a fictional tale of intrigue and wisdom and stuff.

The three guys were sitting around the living room and enjoying their bowls of stew.  They had just finished smoking a couple joints only an hour ago and they were hungrily gobbling down the contents of their bowls.

Dave managed to stop eating for a moment and said, "What am I eating?  It's fucking delicious!"

Kyle, the dude who cooked the stew, said, without missing a beat, "It's unborn fetuses in a health-minded chunky soup.  The meatier bits were gingerly sauteed and I mashed the undeveloped eyeballs into a paste before adding the hearty broth that I shit from my ass this morning."

Dave nodded his head, understanding.  Then he added, "Well, it tastes great .  Hope you didn't go to too much trouble."

Dig in!

Kyle remarked, "Not at all, my good friends."

Then Kyle, Dave and Rick laughed, simultaneously, knowing that what was said simply wasn't true.  You know, the part about the fetuses, eyeballs and excrement juices.  But Kyle did cook the concoction.

It was actually Kyle's Slow N' Easy Deer Chili that they were eating.  A special recipe he had thought up the night before.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Here, let me give you the recipe.  You can copy it if you like.  But if you don't, I will gut you and use your intestines as a jump rope.  Ha ha.  I'm just kidding.  Look... See the smiley face?  :) People add these to the end of comments to let you know they're joking or that they're trying really hard to be cute or funny or sincere.  I have to add them all the time... on Fartbook, Twitter, sticky notes and sometimes this blog or wherever- because if I don't, some good, yet not particularly intelligent folks might get the wrong idea.  :)

Wouldn't want that to happen.  :)

In any case, if you don't want to eat the meat of Bambi, you can substitute ground beef, ground sausage, ground turkey or semi-fresh finely chopped unborn fetuses.  Also: You will need a Crock Pot or slow cooker.  Don't try making this with the hollowed out skull of a long dead hobo.  The ingredients simply will not fit and will not be cooked properly.

First, the ingredients to this simple, delicious recipe:


2lbs. ground venison
1 1/2  30 oz. cans of tomato puree
A big jar (roughly 24-28 ounces) of medium to hot spicy salsa
A bag of frozen chopped peppers and onions (or, if you're fancy, find the peppers and onions your own damn self and chop them up- fresh)
Add a 15 oz. can or 30 oz. can of chili or kidney beans (optional- depends on how much you want to fart later)
and a 1lb box of elbow macaroni or whatever pasta you want
Add about five to six tablespoons of chili powder 

The basic ingredients

Cook or boil what needs to be cooked or boiled (I hope I'm not making this too complicated for ya) and put it all in a Crock Pot or slow cooker.  Pour water into the mix til it almost reaches the rim.  Leave about a one inch space.  You don't want it to bubble over and make a mess.  I won't help you clean it up.  I'll be busy.  You don't want to know.  :)

Look closely, on the right and you'll see the Pillsbury Doughboy getting his wife, Poppie Fresh, brutally hard, up the ass.  His unique penis has the form and bend-ability of a long white elephant trunk.  But don't let their crazy, lustful actions shake and knock over your kitchen items!  Sometimes, I'll watch them for hours, go at it.   Envy is thy shame!

Lastly, stir it all up with a big fuckin' spoon or your big hairy arm.  Set the cooker on low for 6 to 8 hours. Put the glass cover over the slow cooker or Crock Pot.  Don't forget to take your spoon or arm out!  If you wish, after it's done, mix in a couple tablespoons of pepper sauce.


During your waiting time, be sure to catch up on some important projects you've been putting off.  Masturbate furiously to monkey porn.


And wallah... after it's done, eat up.

MMMMmmmmm.  It really is good.  And hearty.

Have a great day and night, everyone! 

The Holidays Are Over and The Joy of Putting Xmas Gifts Together

First of all, as if you can't tell by my latest posting, I survived Christmas Hell once again.  The one Christmas gathering my significant other and I hosted for her side of the family didn't cause me to flip out, fall down on my knees, sob openly and then get up, retrieve my flamethrower from under the bed, go back and set everyone on fire this time around.

I only had two instances where I had to leave a heavily populated room due to stress.  For me, a heavily populated room is anything over five or six people.  I feel like I'm trapped in a herd of insane, babbling bison in that situation.  I can't handle it.  One thing that sets me over the friggin' edge is when three people are talking to you at the same time about three extremely different topics.  My head is turning faster than a possessed girl in a 70's horror movie in order to focus and hear what each buffalo has to say.  For whatever reason, people have a tendency to pull this hilarious routine on me-  intentional or not.  Maybe they want me to pull out the flamethrower.  I must seem like someone who will calmly listen to the subject matter presented and, in turn, shoot wisdom out of every orifice for the talker's benefit or possibly cause the talker to laugh by spurting out an absurd or observational joke that may have something to do with what they're rambling about.

You say you made a macaroni and cheese dish with less flavor than Styrofoam cups covering a decrepit whore's wrinkly worn down nipples?

Well, I can't wait to try to digest that dish you made for our supposedly joyous Christmas meal without spitting it out and blinding your baby with unappetizing chunks of what you jokingly refer to as food.

It's all a pretty picture I paint, I know.

Then someone else may talk about trains and fishing lures.  I will attempt interest while also fantasize about fucking Mila Kunis deep in her tiny, puckered asshole.

Ta-dah!

Here's a joke I made up for ya that's both absurd and observational.  Best of all, it's an easy one to remember.

Question: What's the difference between a monetarily wealthy kid on Christmas morning and a poor kid, that same day, that lives in a run down apartment with a bunch of relatives that are also poor?

Answer: The wealthy kid will likely probably not give too much of a shit about what he gets when he opens his gifts because he already has everything without asking.  He might grow up, feeling entitled.  Maybe not.   Now the poor kid is likely just grateful that he has a big family that loves him.  He may envy the rich kid every so often but he ultimately knows what is important and what's not.  Does he feel entitled?  Hell, he's just trying to survive.  Living his life is all the gift he needs.

Spoiled girl secretly enters the room at night, then carefully binds mother and father's limbs while they slumber peacefully, dreaming of new things to acquire and gingerly scoops parent's eyes out with a spoon because she didn't get that latest technological piece of shit that will go out of style in a couple weeks and no longer make her friends green with envy.  Later, after the merry mayhem and profuse bloodshed and disemboweling of daddy, she'll get her own reality show, thanks to the hyperventilating, over publicized rabid press coverage.  A happy ending that will certainly appeal to today's wonderfully sane society.

It's not so much a joke but it's something I think people should think about.  I think the poverty stricken people around the world think the wealthy in America suck for a lot of reasons.  It's not completely envy.  Maybe not at all.  You tell me.  I wonder if they believe we're arrogant and entitled, too, to a greater degree.

The wife and I overdid the gift giving to each other this year.  Made all the Christmas gift givings in the past look a might tame.  TV.  Camera.  Exercise machine for me.  I put that together that today.  Jewelry.  A cool graphics tablet thingamajiggy that allows you to draw with a pen while your drawing shows up on the PC monitor.  I forget what else.  Too excessive.  In a way, it gave me a bad case of "the guilts."  Perhaps I shall shed these feelings of guilt, layer by layer, by distributing free bars of soap to the hobos under the bridge.  Sorry.  That isn't right.

I really wish the lady would have come, shipped in a special container with this item, when I ordered it.  She could have made me some delicious mac and cheese.  Darn it.

But, at the moment, I'm feeling kinda vulnerable and anxious now that I've said what we got this festive holiday season.  Don't rob me!  I'm nuts.  Who knows what type of funny rascally rabbit I'll pull out of my hat?  For real. Fair warning, my friends.  Group hug?  No?

I've figured out how this thing goes with that thing, for the most part.  I'm learning how to do new stuff that's normally a little above my intelligence capabilities.  But I'm still one hell of a guy, after all.  There are still hook ups and procedures I don't quite understand.  But I'm going to make a real attempt at being patient with understanding things and more patient with people- this year and beyond.  I'll try working on that.  No more Mr. Flamethrower Guy.  Unless I'm provoked.  :-D

Side Note: So far the comments I've been getting about the exercise machine suggest that I got it as a gift from a family member.  This is not the case.  My wife and I purchased it and had it delivered to myself to help lower my blood sugar and high blood pressure counts and more.  Thank you and have a rip-roaring day, damn it.  

The Furious Gingerbread Man

The Gingerbread Man was furious.  With weapon in hand, he was determined to slay those who dared to stand in his way.  For too many years, his brethren had been made for the sole purpose of being devoured.

"Why must this be the way of things?" asked The Gingerbread Man.

He raised his hardened cake fist, shook it furiously and sobbed.

Somehow, he thought to himself, he would find a way to make humanity pay.

Suddenly, a dog came up and began munching on his gingerbread penis.  This made The Gingerbread Man even more furious.  The Gingerbread Man cried out, "I will be eaten no longer!  I have rights!  How dare you eat me!"

The dog, blown away by the fact that a cookie was talking to him, said, "Well, if this isn't some freaky shit, I don't know what is."  And then the dog walked off, shaking his head and vowed to get some therapy.  He realized, in those moments, that the preceding event would likely scar him for life if he didn't receive help and support with this issue.  And then he licked his balls.

Furious, the Gingerbread Man ran as fast as he could back to his gingerbread house.  He poured himself a drink and began to relax. Just as his nerves were beginning to settle, a man child approached and took a huge bite out of his home.

"Oh no you didn't!" screamed the really incredibly furious gingerbread man.

The man child took another big bite off the top of the roof, gobbling up a chocolate candy heart.

"MMMM... Tasty," said the man child, as cookie crumbles fell out of his mouth.  The man child continued eating the gingerbread house with as much enthusiasm as a crack addict scoring a rock after being without a high for a day.

Finally, the man child's mother called out the man child's name and the little brat reluctantly ran to her, throwing a tantrum and pissing himself before throwing a fork at his mom's head.

The mother plucked the embedded fork from her forehead and with a reassuring tone, she said, "Ohhhh... that's okay, dear.  Mommy will get a boo boo band aid for her head and then mommy will let you eat the rest of the gingerbread house because you are such a good little boy."


The Gingerbread Man, even more furious than before, had had enough.

 He shouted, "Sweet Satan, Lord of All Who Dwell in Darkness, please give me the power to destroy those who wish to do me harm!"

A black fog swirled around The Gingerbread Man.  Electricity filled the air around him.  The flames of hell began to engulf him.  When the flames disappeared, his form had changed.  The Gingerbread Man became possessed with the spirit of a demon.  And a single perfect cookie dropped from his crusty butthole.

For a moment, he felt sweet relief.

Then he became enraged because he remembered he was supposed to be furious.  In the days to come, the Gingerbread Man gathered up his fellow gingerbread brethren and created a mighty delicious army.

Furious, The Gingerbread Man commanded his army to fight the humans.  So powerful were the gingerbread army, in their quest, that they did, indeed, conquer all of humanity and laid waste to all of their creations.  Dogs were ridden, against their will, by the gingerbread men, as if they were horses.

True.

Those humans who were not slain, were forced into slavery, cock fighting and prostitution.  And when the humans were forced to copulate, the gingerbread men ate their children.

And thus began The Ten Thousand Year Reign of The Gingerbread Men.  All hail their might, wisdom and absolute power!

Adventures While Camping at The Gorge (Part Three)

For PART ONE and PART TWO of this series, click the links.

As I've mentioned before, there are some rough trails at Red River Gorge. No doubt about it. Take this photo, for instance. It shows a typical example of what a challenging trail would be like.

See the tree roots halfway embedded in the ground? Those are great fun to trip over when you're exhausted or half drunk or both.

We ate pretty good during our camping trip at The Gorge. Steve cooked most of the food while I watched him do it. He was my cook bitch. But don't tell him I said that. On this night we had grilled deer steak. And no, those aren't maggots on the meat in the picture below. They're some kind of spice/seeds that I can't think of the name of, at the moment. My friend wanted to use this on the meat to tame a little of the gamey flavor that deer tends to have.

It didn't matter to me. I can eat venison in any shape or form, with spices or without. I'm a true carnivore, damn it! If I'm hungry enough, I'll eat the balls off a bison as he's taking a leak. Wait! Not while he's pissing! I'll wait til he's fast asleep and then I'll chow down on his gamey jewels. He shouldn't wake up. Nah!

Speaking of balls, have you ever tried Rocky Mountain Oysters? Yum is the word.

We would take a breather, every so often along the trails and rest our poor saggy old asses on the natural rock formations, enjoying the inviting beauty and calm of Mother Nature. I really needed to go on this camping trip last September. I was going through some emotional calamity involving my father or wife during this time (I forget what it was, exactly) and this experience helped to bring peace and perspective to my life. It was terrific therapy for yours truly. Plus, it was crazy fun.

During the course of our adventures at The Gorge, we imbibed in adult beverages. Hard to believe, eh? In the following picture, you'll see that I am exploring my creative side by producing a talk show I put together with stuff I found on the forest ground. Enjoy, won't you?

Further exploring both our creative sides, we go to the amphitheater to put on short skits and musicals for one another while completely fucked up. I have videos of our creative masterpieces and I must say... they're really quite embarrassing- even by my standards. Luckily, no one was around and the amphitheater is pretty well hidden in the forest.

All in all, we had a fun, relaxing and invigorating time at The Gorge. If you really ever want to truly get away from the noise of the city or craziness in your life, I would suggest going here or a rustic and primitive locale similar to this. It's like a gift for your mind and spirit and it does wonders for your emotional well being. I know it does for me.

And now our journey ends. I hope you enjoyed the jaunty tour and I hope you're able to get away from it all, someday and experience the wonders of nature in all of it's uplifting glory.

Later, dudes and dudettes.

Give This Dog Some Food, Stupid Bastard!

This evil bastard in the video makes his dog so sad, the dog resorts to doing things he never felt possible doing before. This is what happens- after what you see in this video...

RutRo, The Talking Dog, jumps on his owner's bed when he's asleep and takes a big brown, steaming dump directly into his cruel master's mouth. Then the bastard suffocates, dies, loses control of his bowels and then the maid comes in... there's an awkward silence. She cuts a petite fart... Places a finger upon her lips (not her wrinkly pussy lips, mind you) and acts all coy and bashful- until- a car suddenly crashes through the house and the mayhem starts with a bang as the maid's head is cleanly cut off with a flying piece of broken glass.

Our hero dog is shocked, at first, but then he begins to devour chunks of both the old maid and his owner, making the world a better, more awesome place. Except the part where the house collapses and the dog, busy gobbling on a liver, is crushed into peanut butter.

Everyone comes to the scene, wanting to help and all that shit, but that's when the earthquake shakes the ground, opens up a quarter mile gap and believe it or not, takes the whole neighborhood. Of course, this is when God peeks his head through the clouds, shouts, "Dumb Fuckers!" and takes his size 1,583 shoe and smacks all of us about like those damn lady bugs that get in your house when it gets cold outside.

Good weekend to all.

Friendship Flea Market (Part 2)

This post is all about the largest flea market in Indiana. The Friendship Flea Market. Here, you can find all manner of things. Knives, buckskin chaps, hats made of animal carcasses, paintings, antiques, spices, neglected children, heatwave, flash flooding, sex toys, water bongs, clothes and everything in between. Hell... Don't even get me started on the freaks you'll bear witness to while you're there.

The weekend drink-til-you-die-while-dancing bonfire parties are awesome, as well. True fun! I've joined in for some really fucked up experiences during those big red barn dancing parties. Just don't bump into any rednecks and accidentally make them spill their beer or you're dead.

Look below and see many things! Enlarge the pic to see what I mean, Oh Ye, who has yet to understand the magical ability to left click a pic with your mouse to see the details of a photo . This scene is near the entrance to the flea market. The horse drawn carriage is a treat for your feet when you're tired of walking down the acres of cement lanes, separated only by a multitude of booths that sell everything. Of course, you'll have to endure smelling the many butt droppings of the horses up front but you can relax for a ten or fifteen minutes as the horses will take you from one end of town to the next.

There is a sign to the left of the horse and carriage that says BODY PIERCING. Can you imagine subjecting your body to one of these "professionals" at the flea market?

I have broken this series up into 3 parts in order for all of you to benefit from it's detailed awesomeness better. The first part to this series on Friendship Flea Market can be found here. It's the post I put up before this one. The famous National Muzzle Loading Shoot is going on nearby.

I have captions with some of the pictures here. Some of them are edu-mu-cational. Others, according to the blog author, are fairly humorous. You decide. Choose wisely or I shall have to pierce you with a rusty needle I found at one of the body piercing booths.

Yes, you can find many unusual things to eat at the flea market. Elk burger. Alligator meat. Buffalo burger. Deer jerky. They even have Sunburned, Neglected Children, created by low lifes, destined to be poorly edu-mu-cated and live off the government one way or another or live a life of crime. Unless we eat them first and save them the trouble.

Check out the captioned picture below. Luckily, some things you may eat here are quite tasty. But then there are the booths that will give you a complimentary stomach pump with every purchase over $10.

At this booth, the vendor will sell you chocolate-covered bacon and something called Sati-Babi.

Now for the first time in the history of the flea market, there was an acupuncture booth. No shit! When my wife and I saw it, we looked at one another, laughed and then talked about the legitimacy of a couple vendors with the certification and knowledge to be able to perform acupuncture on potential customers at a flea market. Then I took more pictures of the circus like atmosphere.

Turns out, there were some folks willing to take their chances.

The "pin guns" were what they were selling at the acupuncture booth. They were too expensive for my taste. sure, I did the demo, figuring my already fucked up body could be no worse for the wear with getting this done. Besides, I had always wanted to give acupuncture a shot. I'm not sure, exactly, if they were actually using needles in this gun that went "pow-pow-pow-pow" up and down your spine and your other body parts- like the top portion of your ass and shoulders- but it didn't feel bad, whatsoever. And yes, I know this isn't acupuncture in it's truest form but it's as close as I'll likely ever get to it. I just know that after a few minutes of Acupuncture Guy's wife doing her stuff on my back (Yeah, I know how that sounds), I did feel like my blood circulation improved and my walking became less of a pain. Seriously.

The last post of the series will be put on my photo blog, Pics for Kicks, sometime during the near future. I hope you enjoyed the second tour of the flea market and will come back again. If you don't, I know that you've been shot by a muzzle loader or ate too much Sati-Babi meat and died of food poisoning.

In conclusion, going to the big flea market is a unique, humorous and sometimes odd experience. We definitely try not to miss it when it comes once in the summer and once in the fall. You have to travel down some long, winding, crumbling roads to get to it but it's worth it just to check out the different people and items.

Friendship Flea Market (Part 1)

I will break this series up into 3 parts in order for all of you to benefit from it's detailed awesomeness better. There will be two posts about this event on this blog and the last post will be on my photo blog, Pics for Kicks, in the near future.

This is all about the Friendship Flea Market. A spectacle to behold! I went here several weeks ago and it was hot and fun. We go here twice a year for our bi-annual dose of all that is good that humanity has to offer.

You've heard me talk, a little, about our bi-annual tradition of going to the Friendship Flea Market, in search of odd and/or cool items or completely ridiculous stuff before in the past. I've also talked about the variety of rednecks, ugly fucks and freaks you'll encounter. But this time around, I'm going to go in depth, share a couple of interesting links and put up some captioned photos I took for you to be entertained by.

The following descriptions of the Friendship Flea Market come directly from their main website. Of course, some interesting data has also been added by yours truly. And no, by 'yours truly', I don't mean you can have lovable ol' me. I'm not cheap, unless you ladies suddenly drop to knees and start sucking like your life depends upon it. Which it might, if I have my gun handy dandy. Ha ha. What a wonderful, acceptable joke that was!

Seriously, I don't own a gun. Maybe.

Friendship Flea Market is not just a market, it is truly an event. The market features vendors of every sort, a variety of dining options, camping, and nightly bonfires with a live band. Admission is free and parking is only $3 per car. In the year 2011, the market celebrated it's 43rd year in Friendship, Indiana. Feel free to observe some of the patrons authentically dressed in buckskins, loincloths, and pioneer garb. Feel free, also, to witness sunburned babies, screaming in strollers, left alone by teenage redneck parents and the friendly tank topped people walking their Pit Bulls, dogs that will gladly chew off one of your legs, while you casually check out the 200 different varieties of salt at the spice booth.

Everything imaginable can be found at the flea market. Look for unlimited treasures including, furniture, knives, guns, sex toys, bongs, one hitters, porn movies, antiques, jewelry, clothes, crap that no one wants, rugs, toys, tools, electronics, lots of leather and related items to the more primitive. They even have books for sale for people that still read. Imagine that!

The flea market has 2 – 9 day shows every year in June and September, the same days as the National Muzzle Loading Rifle Association hold their Spring and Fall Shoot. You can hear the shoot going on nearby while you shop, eat, endure sunstroke and walk through endless aisles of assorted stuff. In fact, the shooting, which is going on maybe 1/8th of a mile down the road, will happen, abruptly, without warning and will sound so loud and close, you'll swear you've been shot at least a half dozen times during the course of a day's visit.

Now, what the heck do you suppose that Sugar Glider is thinking about all of this?

This is the first part of a series. Anther post about the Market will become available in the days ahead. Stay tuned!