Finally…the post you’ve all been waiting for. Two posts for two fair trips. Why two trips? Because there was too much tasty food to cram in my belly in one day without going into some type of sugar coma.
Here’s the first post in case you missed it.
What I wanted to eat:
- Cookies N’ Cream Funnel Cake
- Deep-Fried Pop-Tart
- Deep-Fried Oreos
- Deep-Fried Twinkie
- Deep-Fried Snickers (Is there a theme developing here?)
- Cotton Candy (Nope. No theme.)
- Shaved Ice
What I actually ate:
- 1 Deep-Fried Oreo
- 1 Deep-Fried Twinkie
- 1 Deep-Fried Pop-Tart
I know. I’m pathetic. Not even half.
This year’s deep-fried Oreo was disappointing. Last year they were glooorrrious, so I don’t know what went wrong this year.
Deep-fried Twinkie, I hereby dub you heaven-on-a-stick. Powdered sugar and chocolate covering a dough-covered sponge cake with warm cream filling.
Oh. My. God. I swear I teared up as I ate it.
Wednesday night (after the Twinkie and Oreo), I was waiting in line with Boo, Radley, and friends because they wanted an Elephant Ear. That’s when I saw it.
The sign showed a Strawberry Frosted Pop-Tart and said “Deep-Fried Pop-Tart $3.”
Radley was already sucking down an ice cream cone, but Boo hadn’t ordered yet. There was still time.
Me: Boo! Stop! Order the Pop-Tart instead of the Elephant Ear, so I can have a bite of it.
Me: Dammit, Boo! This is an emergency!
In my weakened condition from the Twinkie and Oreo, I knew there was no way I could finish a Pop-Tart as well. My only chance was too mooch off Boo.
Me: Come on, Boo. Everybody’s doing it.
Stoopid kid wouldn’t succumb to the peer pressure. Is there a Just Say No to Pop-Tarts program in schools that I don’t know about? What are they teaching these days? When I’m President, Pop-Tarts will be mandatory in school lunches.
So Kiefer took me back to the fair a couple days later to taste the deep-fried Pop-Tart. Here’s what happened:
You’ll notice in the picture above there are 2 (count ’em)…2 Pop-Tarts! That was a surprise. I thought I was only getting one. Off to a good start.
As I walked to the nearest table, powdered sugar blew all over me. Crack addicts appeared from nowhere and began snorting my shorts.
Ouch! Those mother fudgin’ Pop-Tarts were too hot to eat. So I waited.
And I waited.
And I waited some more.
An eternity later, I bit into that warm cake-covered Pop-Tarty goodness. Where the eff was the Pop-Tart? Finally I tasted it…brown sugar and cinnamon? What the….
Was this some type of cruel trick? Where was the frosted strawberry Pop-Tart that was on the sign? Flippin’ brown sugar and cinnamon?!
Should have gotten the Snickers.