Get to your nearest chair and proceed to sit so hard that you accordion your spine in on itself, because that’s what it’s probably gonna take to keep your pants from flying off after you learn that it’s fall festival season again! That’s right, it’s everyone’s favorite time to herd into the smallest towns imaginable by the thousands and then proceed to rip it to shreds like some sort of cursed locust-people. All while buying up every single shitty piece of local art they can find, along with shoving their faces full of food so unhealthy that it should qualify as body torture. Get hype, son!
Now you may be saying to yourself, “But Jeremy, you already wrote an extensive, boring article on fall festivals years ago! In fact, Amandoll just re-posted it a few days ago! It’s right here! Why even bring this up again? Who really gives a shit?” Well, I definitely can’t argue with that last point, but I can confirm that I did write that article well over two decades ago, back when it was all the rage with my family to drag us around the state and partake in whatever festival they could find each weekend during the fall season. And believe it or not, it was something I actually enjoyed. But over the years since then I really haven’t been to many at all, and since I now have way too much free time and literally no friends whatsoever, I figure it’s high time that I return to those cursed festivals to see what I’ve been missing, and also add a few things that I sort of glossed over in the first article. So please, dear reader, take a trip with me to Greenfield, Indiana, for their “Riley Days” festival. Let’s see together just how bored you truly have to be to do shit like this.
It is already well documented that I am pretty much a giant fucking loser. And because of this, I seem to enjoy doing things that make most people laugh at me. We’ve already covered this in previous articles about yard sales, and virtually everything else I’ve written on this site. So it’s of no surprise when I say that I happen to enjoy going to fall festivals. After all, fall is my favorite time of the year, and it seems to be the only time when I can go out of the house and not be hospitalized from extreme sun exposure, or be treated for frostbite.
Fall has very mild weather that is perfect for the pasty nerd who is afraid to step outside in the heat for more than two minutes, in fear that they would instantly be blinded by natural sunlight and have their skin catch fire. But once we get outside, we usually find that there is little that we know how to do without a computer mouse in our hands. And even if we bring the computer mouse with us, it just doesn’t seem to have the same effect by clicking on things in the real world as it does on our computer. So to combat this strange new world of revulsion, we must find something else to do. Not only do we need to find somewhere that is generally low key and devoid of excitement that might lead to bodily harm, but also somewhere where we can buy incredibly useless crap for large sums of money. The only real answer that meets these criteria, is of course one of the millions of festivals that are being held during the fall. That’s right. Today we’re going to show you just how to navigate your way through a fall festival.
I’m gonna be right up front about this:
I can’t dance.
There is no certain reason for this I suppose, maybe it’s because my body has about as much rhythm as a sun dried catfish, or maybe it’s the fact that the last time I even attempted to dance I was nearly dragged from the dance floor by my nostrils. But I’m going to guess the number one reason is that I am a 38 year old white guy who spends the majority of his time as far away from the club and dance scene as possible. It all comes down to wanting to fit in and feel comfortable where ever you go, and when I’m in a club with a bunch of sweating “young people” gyrating to enough bass to level a small third-world country, I do not fit in.
Jesus fuck it’s summer already. Well it feels like it has been summer since March, and I’m not entirely sure that there should be a single date declaring that it is indeed Summer. I simply go by the tried and true method of knowing when it gets too hot to function normally, then it’s summer. I don’t care if it’s the middle of December, if the temperature gets high enough to make me lie on the ground and give up on life, then it’s fucking summer. This is where we’re at now, and I damn well barely made it from my car to my front door yesterday before I accepted my fate and just let the sun finish destroying my will to live, which basically means it’s time to never go outside again until Winter blows in around next February.
As you can tell, I’m not a big fan of summer, though I must admit that I do despise winter a tad bit more, just for the fact that I can walk around outside in my boxers in summertime without a hint of officers threatening to take me down. I suppose that works both ways though, as the rest of the city has no problem doing so as well, along with the random assault of naked babies in grocery stores. It’s just not very appetizing to be getting my three month supply of Ramen noodles, only to see naked baby wang come flying around the corner. You also have the thousands of people who have no air conditioning, thus spending every waking moment of the Summer sitting outside, listening to country music, and hollering.
Before actually working at a party supply store, I was unaware that there are party supplies for EVERYTHING. I had previously been under the notion that people weren’t so stupid that they would need to run out and buy a giant bull skull to complete the look of their “Tex-Mex party,” which would just end up looking like a regular party except with a giant shitty foam bull skull hanging on the wall.
While perusing the mind-numbing amount of overpriced shit for parties, I wandered upon a section, nay, an entire AISLE, just for celebrating old people’s birthdays and such. Well, let me rephrase that since it’s not entirely the truth: An entire aisle just for mocking old people’s further decline into a miserable old age and eventually to a depressing death that will most likely be filled with memories of the time their children bought them a fake jar of Viagra for their 60th birthday.
Some would call them “gag” gifts, and I suppose they are. Only I have never seen so many, and some so completely brutal, in one area before — all for simply being old. It’s as if to say “Congratulations on living for 3/4 of a century and accomplishing more than most of us ever will, now put this chicken suit on and DANCE YOU OLD SHIT.”
Brutal fact of life: Gaming will never, ever be as cool as it was in the late 80s/early 90s. Why? Several factors contribute to it: 80s/90s hairstyles, general inability to see how much we would laugh at ourselves in the future, etc. But the biggest thing that made the time so awesome was that it was all so new. Sure, games had been around for over a decade at that point. But after the video game crash in ’84, the future of gaming was mostly relegated to being bulletpoint features on shitty home computers from Radioshack. Then came the NES, and everything exploded. Gaming, as it turned out, was the real deal. And it wasn’t going anywhere. Suddenly the entire subculture of video games went mainstream, and few people were ready for it — especially the people that quickly saw they could make a boatload of money from them.
Magazines based solely on games literally sprung up over night. The two most prominent being Electronic Gaming Monthly, and Gamepro. Immediately out of the gate, Gamepro seemed to be the far more “color by the numbers” magazine created by people who had no clue what to do with a game magazine, and were just throwing stuff together in a way they thought would look cool to kids. Featuring blindingly bright layouts (I still can only see in shades of neon pink thanks to Gamepro), giant cartoony art, and a general mishmash of coverage more suited for an ADHD-addled chimp.
Gamepro quickly garnered a reputation as being that one kid who would always scream for attention on the playground, but no one would ever come close to him for fear that he would never leave you alone again. That didn’t stop Gamepro from making money though, since this was a time when you could put out anything game-related and kids would choke it down as fast as possible. Gamepro quickly saw that their aberration of a magazine was making gobs of money, so decided to take the next logical step and made a TV show.
Halloween parties are mostly awful. It’s unfortunate, but it is basically how things work. The main cause for just about every shitty Halloween party is the fact that you have to invite your friends. Face it: your friends fuck everything up, even Halloween when given the opportunity. What should be a fun gathering of semi-drunk friends will almost always end up with someone vomiting on your cat, sexual harassment charges for the guy that tried to eat candy corn out of some girl’s bra, and unusually large amounts of property damage that no one wants to pay for. This isn’t even counting the amount of time it takes you to prepare the entire thing, which is more like carefully building the Jenga tower up just to watch it all fall down within three minutes. In the end, it’s just not worth it. Especially for a group of people that probably won’t remember it come morning anyway. So if this is what we can expect, why not at least be able to enjoy ourselves at the expense of these assholes anyway?
This is where we come in. Today we’ll give you all the advice you could ever want about how to host a Halloween party that will be just as much sadistic fun for you, as it is un-fun for everyone attending. After all, it’s your house. Why not be able to torture all that dare enter? Below you’ll find more than enough tips and tricks to make your Halloween party the most fun YOU’VE ever had at one. Just don’t expect anyone to talk to you for a while after. Hey, that’s another plus! So get to reading!
Like many people at one or more points in their lives, I too worked in the retail space. I managed to do it for what seemed like decades, but was actually probably closer to just a few years in my twenties (retail has a weird way of making some days feel like years I suppose). Most of those retail jobs were about what you could imagine such as working for low wages while doing menial tasks, like stocking aisles or helping customers. It was never really too bad, I guess. I mean I obviously hated it with a passion while I was doing it, but looking back… eeeehhhh, it wasn’t so terrible. I at least ended up making some decent friends over the years, and have some fairly fond memories from some of those jobs. Obviously there are exceptions though, and today you good people get the honor of reading about the worst retail job experience in my entire life: Working at a big box electronics store.
I originally got the job in a time when my previous job had shit the bed with the Government over back taxes, as I found out when I showed up for work and was locked out of the building. Unemployment is never fun, so I threw out a ton of applications to see if anyone would bite, and the first that called was none other than everyone’s favorite [unnamed] electronics store. I went in for the interview, basically got hired on the spot, and so began my new life as that guy that hangs around the store floor and asks if you need help with whatever. Hey, it’s a job so I didn’t really care, and it seemed easy enough for what I was getting paid. Or at least it was in the beginning.
In the United States, as soon as winter gives way to spring, the birds start singing, the flowers begin to bloom, and every town, village, and city finds itself littered with price-tagged used belongings of its citizens who are in the throes of “Spring Cleaning Madness.” After the spring rush, the yard sales continue for various reasons: moving, destitution, punishment, masochism, and so on. Families are torn apart as they decide what items no longer hold any value, sentimental or otherwise, and then they come back together as they brave the onslaught of bargain hunting strangers who like to snoop and swindle. The yard sale is sometimes a garage sale, and sometimes it is a rummage sale. Some towns organize one big event for everyone to participate in because they prefer the chaos to be concentrated and overwhelming.
I should probably be less enthusiastic about this, but I really enjoy a good yard sale. A lot. I’m not exactly sure why, though. Perhaps it stems from the lurid fascination of rummaging through strange people’s twenty year-old collection of dust-encrusted junk that no one on Earth would ever want to purchase outside of such an event. And while virtually everything in yard sales is total and absolute shit, I simply cannot get enough of it. Besides, I honestly don’t know where you could ever have the chance to purchase used dentures for 10 cents anywhere else but a yard sale.
Because of this rabid fascination of mine, I have decided to help any of you out there who may be interested in festooning your lawn with all of your worthless junk. So let us enjoy a brief excursion into the world of American yard selling tactics in an effort to make our future yard selling efforts − no matter how few they may be − all that much better.
Sometimes I watch old dumb videos on YouTube because I have no life. Literally. My life consists of getting up, going to work, coming home, and going to bed. Be it old commercials from the eighties, or terrible training videos from fast food restaurants, it continuously fascinates me to no end. There’s something about watching these old videos that genuinely brings me back to a time that, obviously, isn’t coming back. It relaxes and soothes in a way that few things can. And while I’m aware that living life with rose-tinted glasses can be dangerous, it’s usually always fun to put them on occasionally to see just how modern-day life has evolved and changed over the years. Also I’m pretty sure I once heard my history teacher tell me that learning from the past is just as important as living in the present, so there’s that whole thing to pull out of my ass when someone wants to question why I’m obviously insane.
Below you’ll find just a few of the YouTube channels and videos that I use to escape into at times. Sometimes to just relax, other times to actually learn from the past, or at least laugh at just how dumb everyone was back in the day.