So, I live in Tennessee. That's pretty country. I am not, however, country. I need my civilization - you know, stores with sections and places that cut hair with trendy paint jobs instead of lace curtains and mauve wall borders and Dunkin' Donuts.
I mean, I love having the option of pretending I'm country for about 5 minutes. I like driving past farms with horses and other animals and shopping at farmers' markets and dreaming about photographing those awesome old barns that dot the landscape.
That's why the county fair is right up my alley - I can go, stare at someone's monstrosity of a cow, marvel at how bad it smells, wonder how on earth one grows a tomato the size of my skull (more importantly: why), eat some deliciously greasy food, and go home to the comfort of my indoor plumbing, in my minivan with its DVD players.
Everyone around us kept talking about what a beautiful specimen this thing was. All I could do was try not to gag at how stinky it's urine was.
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