Crown and Anchor
Mike and I held off on going to the Ex until the 8th. Not because we forget that it was going on or anything- it was hard to, what with the explosive fireworks display shaking the house each night between 10:30 and 11:00, and the crowded buses roaring down the sidestreets of Parkdale all day. We went on the last night of the Ex in hopes to see raging roving bands of teens terrorizing the midway, looting, skee-balling, choking on corn dogs, stabbing one another, etc...
On the way there we caught these righteous dudes wailing out of a mom-mobile, getting everybody AMPED to get their weight guessed!! YESSSS!!! I was so righteously amped after this.
Did you know we were the last paying people to get into the Ex? Believe it!
Mike says "Wha?" to this anti-Coke sticker on the machine that holds his life-giving elixir. I stand in front of a carousel with a total Nelly bandaid on my face. Dudes! Trust me. Totally preferable to the vesuvius that lay beneath. Truly a face only a mother could love.
Um, was I the only one who kinda thought this was in bad taste? When the CNE started I'm sure they thought this was a great little shanty attraction that only kids too scared or disabled to go on actual rides would enjoy. By the last night of the Ex it was just a vacant little shanty attraction that no one would touch out of polite Canadianism.
Starship. Mike and I waited for about 15 minutes to go on the gravitron. I wanted to try and roll on top of him you know? Anyway, the doors opened and everyone getting off was waving their hands in front of their face or smoothing the front of their clothes while pulling faces. Then came the mexican attendant walking out and going "WHOOOA!" followed by a bucket of water sloshing out the front door- ostensibly to wash away the remains of half-digested corndog, malt liquor, cotton candy and teen angst.
Needless to say we took a pass on the old gravitron this year and went on the Polar Express instead. It was a lot faster than we remembered and I have the leg bruises to prove it. Mike filmed some short movies of us screaming on it and maybe I'll put them up later... I was not, however, screaming because I wanted to go faster. I was screaming because I didn't know what else to do.
Mike eats his annual corndog.
I stuff the last bite of cotton candy into my face.
In summation, Conko the clown is a scary scary dude. Nice EYES, Conko! Nice NAME for a clown that looks dead. Conked out? Too much WILD IRISH ROSE Conko?
psssst! I'm watching you, Conko...
Thanks for another raditech year at the money-eating CNE!
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July 18 - 16 July 2007
Weekly recap. - 28 May 2007
That's Immaterial! - 25 May 2007
A Shalom to Arms! - 07 May 2007
YEAH RIGHT - 20 April 2007