The Corn Dog and Fried Twinkie Diet

"Let's stay in tonight," Boyfriend said.

"OK," I replied, "That sounds nice."

About five seconds later, I got a text message from Boyfriend's Sister, "I'm bored," she wrote, "Want to go to the fair with me?"

"Um," I said to boyfriend.  "Maybe instead of staying in, we should go to the fair."

Boyfriend: "..."

Me: "It might be fun to take pictures and stuff."

Boyfriend: "..."

Me: "You don't have to go, but suddenly this seems like the BEST IDEA EVER."

Boyfriend "..."

Me: "Come on, come with me, it will be FUUUUUUUNNNNNNNN."

Boyfriend (blinking): "Um."

Me:  "YAY!  We'll just go for an hour or something.  It's going to be AWESOME!"

How could anyone ever regret this?

We got there just as the sun was going down, so it seemed clean and well kept.

We wandered around waiting for Boyfriend's Sister, ending up in one of the 4H halls at the south end.  Or maybe it was the north end.  I can't tell directions.

Anyway.

As we walked, we passed by the "food" stalls.

I mean, this is like a land of awesome and funnelcakes.

 "OH MY GOD!  THEY FRY CANDY BARS!"  I squeaked.  I may have been a little overstimulated from all the flashing lights.

"Huh," said Boyfiend, "Good thing they use cholesterol free oil."

"Well," I said, "They should have options for people who are health-concious."

I'm glad they fry their Snickers Bars in Cholesterol Free Oil.  I would hate for this shit to be bad for me.

"I want cotton candy," I said.  "And maybe a corn dog."

"You know, a corn dog sounds pretty good."

We didn't buy anything, but wandered around, looking at quilts and crafty things until Boyfriend's Sister showed.

When she did, instead of "Hello," I said, "I want a fried Twinkie."

Apparently, the Fried Twinkies were not fried in Cholesterol Free oil (sad face).

We decided to split one, because none of us knew exactly what to expect.

The carnie... or whatever he was, he seemed awefully well kept to be a carnie.  Maybe he was actually serial killer, or an alien.

He looked like he was about 70 and was delighted to take my order.  It was a little scary, especially when contrasted with the monotone blank 20-something girl working behind the counter with him.  Maybe he was a vampire and she was his "thrall" or whatever.

The carnie picked up a Twinkie in his gloved hand and skewered it with a strange efficiency.  He then carefully  and artistically dipped it in batter.  He twirled it on the end of the stick like some kind of magician to cover the whole thing evenly, and then dunked it in the fry vat.

A minute later, he pulled it out and dashed it with powederd sugar before handing it to me.

Breaded, fried, and covered with powdered sugar, this fried Twinkie was my first, but it certaily will not be my last.  How did I survive so long without it? 

FUN FACT:  The gooey center of a Twinkie will get even hotter than a Hot Pocket.  Seriously.  How the shit does that not burn a hole through the bedrock and cause a volcano?

Once we were done eating, approximately 3.2 seconds later, we walked through the area with the animals and I fell in love with a goat.

I really really really really really want a pet narcoleptic goat.  SO CUTE.  I wanted to cuddle it and say, "I'm sorry that you have somehow developed such an inability to deal with stress that you faint when you are scared.  That totally sucks, and that is a total bullshit evolution.  You may have just proved that evolution is crap and God has a sense of humor."

Me: "Boyfriend, I want a goat."

Boyfriend: "I thought you wanted an octopus."

Me: "I still do. And a dog. And chickens."

Boyfriend: "OK."

Me: "You could get a llama."

Boyfriend's Sister was unsurprised by our conversaion, or else she just ignored us to pet the cute little market lambs.

We forgot to go back and get corn dogs.



Side note: I think I just figured out why I am not losing weight even though I work out at least four times a week.  It has nothing to do with fried Twinkies or corn dogs.  It can't.  That would be an amazing injustice.  No no no.  It's a government conspiracy to keep Americans fat.  It has nothing to do with my lack of won't power.