A Word of Warning

I am a product of the lowest common denominator, the result of a percolating experiment to override all things that science and humanity has gifted to the world. I am not disfigured, at least not on the outside. But i am certainly different on the inside. You have seen me, i have probably served you beer at a bar, or pumped your gas. You know me, and those like me, but you don't know my story. I am a countryfest baby.

I believe if Darwin or Kinsey had ever been to Countryfest, their thoeries or sex and species might have greatly changed. Countryfest is a place where basic math breaks down, like a black hole for numbers and other sensible thoughts. It was in this mess that i was concieved.

And now i am secretly shunned by soceity. Oh, society doesn't know that it is hating on me, but it talks about me behind my back to my face. But this isn't the worst of it, because i must deal with an even greater foe. This enemy is the Han Solo to my Chewie (you know a Wookie is never going to get the girl), the Lancelot to my, i dunno, like some squire or something...The Folkfest baby. The Folkfest baby can walk proudly down the street, where i must mask myself.

But one day, we will meet, on a great hill ro field maybe, and we will all confront each other messed outside our heads on our chosen 'weapons', and dance naked until the following dawn. Then we'll see what's what.
n.