Ryan Taylor's Random Rants

With Mid-September finally upon us I thought it would be a good idea to write my first piece about the Great Frederick Fair. The marvelous and sultry event we wait for all year...Ok fine, maybe more like all...week? Yeah, that sounds about right. The week or so of hot weather combined with Frederick's classiest (or was it classless?) citizens, what could be better? Carnies with ring worms, old shirtless men, Appalachia's finest Italian sausages, and of course, that self-righteous clown who is probably drunk. I mean, the average Frederick Fair goer isn't what Darwin would call a "Survivor", but come on, you're a clown...at the Frederick Fair. That is one step below the select few who feel it necessary to wear a wife beater as a shirt. Seriously, think about this, when you see a person wearing a wife beater as a shirt is your first thought, "Oh he looks like a productive and informed member of society", no, you think, "Oh wow is that guy wearing just a wife beater? His dad probably beat him, or maybe he doesn't have a dad? Whatever went on in his childhood, it did not yield a net gain". The only demographic I can think of that out-scums the clown at the Frederick Fair is the Nightfall Walmart goer. Honestly, have you ever been in a Walmart after dark? it's ridiculous. There's always the guy with 9 arms and a sideways head roaming the electronics department. The pregnant woman who could just be fat, you can't tell, but she's smoking, so you're thinking, "Is she pregnant? Oh god I hope not, smoking could hurt the baby, and then we'll have even more Nightfall Marters on our hands!". And let's not forget the 12 midgets of assorted races scurrying about, you never know if they are together, but then you think to yourself, "Why would 12 midgets come to Walmart together? They don't have conventions for that do they? Conventions for being short? No, that's stupid. But wait, what are the odds of 12 individual midgets being at one Walmart at the same time?". Then there's the old, maybe late 60's early 70's, couple who seem normal enough. But boy do their looks deceive, when not having a shouting match with each other, the cashier, or a sliding glass door they are snapping at you for pushing your cart too quickly, slipping Heath bars (I mean come on, Heath bars, really? Couldn't go for a Three Musketeers or even a Twix?) into their coats, and being generally douchie. Ok, so I got a little sidetracked, but the point is, Walt Whitman was 72 stories tall and a raging Anti-Semite.