I love to drive fast. There’s no other semi-legal feeling like it.

Except maybe being the first one to use toilet at work in the morning. Ah, seeing that pristine, unused toilet seat perched joyfully upwards…

I’m only bringing this up because I just got to work, having done so, and am still riding the wave of exhilaration.

Of course, there’s a mild humiliation when the snail-paced drivers you’ve previously passed end up right next to you at the stop light. So when people scoff “Well well, jerk. Where did driving like that get you??” I reply “Who gives a shit? Even if a blaring red light lies before me only 300 feet, as long as the street is bare, I’m gonna gun it. It’s fun. Old ladies and squirrels beware. Actually, I would rather cause a 15 car pile up before hitting an animal. The old ladies, however…”

MY RANT IS OVER, NOW BACK TO THE FAIR. (oops, sorry to yell)

We went to Fiesta Hermosa on Memorial Day. It’s toted as the largest arts and crafts fair in Southern California. (and, perhaps, the only one?)

There was a strange mix of folks there. Beach thugs, hippies, preppies, homeless, the perpetually sun burned bar flies, and us. Our friend, M.S. made an audible comment along the lines of “This sure is a weird crowd” to which some pseudo hippy chic in front of us rebuffed “Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment”

We weren’t referring to her, of course. For, if we were, we would have used the words “nosey” and “annoying” instead.

Basically, it was like an enormous street party, filled with stands selling clothing, jewelry, food, and the obligatory beer garden and Bon Jovi cover band. Oh and a petting zoo. Of course.

I ate a polish sausage. It was tasty but the picture turned out crappy. The hot dog was ginormous, but it now appears to be hiding. The funnel cake pic looked much better so I lovingly placed it on the top of this blog.

Some strange guy sat at our table, as if he knew us. He had rolled up his polyester pants up, as it was a bit muggy out. After all, polyester is the best material for the beach. Thinking back, thank god he was there, if only to finish our last bite of hot dog. He probably would have finished the last bite of our fish taco if we hadn’t put all of our trash on top of it. I swear I could see him wince when we did that.