kangaroos

Team Räwk▲Läwßzter here, with apologies for our silence. The funny thing about working so many hours for under minimum wage is that you lose track of the days.

In lieu of the lunatic asylum museum, which was out of our way, we attended the missouri state fair, which was thematically comparable. The mood was superbly captured by this sign:

…and this, a grown man boxing a kangaroo. I shit you not.

We also went to Knob Noster, and thought, hey, Rock Lobster in Knob Noster. Ha! It was pretty.

But this feels like nostlagia at this point, as we surrender our moments to our five day, fraction-of-the-projection sale. We’ve learned two new games- ‘flying your display boards like kites’, and ‘how long can you keep your truck parked in the fire lane?’ (two days, apparently).

I dig for some anecdotal comic relief but have a memory of only long, hot days, uninterrupted by those “college kids say the darndest things” moments. Instead of making me laugh, they assemble, pant, and retreat, leaving the poster books mangled. As if “footprints with the lord” and “jack johnson” so resembled a fresh kill they had to spend a few minutes chewing on them just to be convinced that they are indeed merely posters.

Here at the america’s best value inn, I’ll be looking for employment opportunities. The staff always seems relaxed and, without a doubt, the pay and the hours are better. But wait, what did I hear about a strike?

Fuck yeah.

Get your balls wet.

-Juice of team Räwk▲Läwßzter.