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Greek Festival, the Sequel
The food was indeed, Greek. My first Greek Frappe! A most divine, heavenly treat. Gods must have created this. So far beyond good! In gigantic glasses,with ice chips. It was as good as an Ouzo on the rocks! The Festival on Saturday was terribly overcrowded, I wanted to leave,before it started. Fashion in the USA,no kidding has truly grown retarded! I like seeing men as men, not dressed as obese 13 year old boys, sporting baseball caps. And the beauty of women? Tossed away like toys, now women only dress as boys? My years are catching up with me, I must hearedtdly admit. I wanted to run from an American culture that is so far from fashion phenomenally adrift! Like buffalo we were overcome with the most fashionably unfit. I sat with my daughter drinking a Frappe. And my only thought was how soon and how fast we could get away! I lost my appetite to eat with American bisons! With god-ugly toes jutting out of cheap, plastic flip-flops. Fat leaping out of obnoxious holes on jeans of 300 pound women? Ah, kill me now and let me go to heaven! I lost my appetite to eat midst this hellish plethora of dirty feet. And hair from hell to top off this ungodly, human feat. Then came beautiful girls, their arms skewed with tattoos so ugly. My desire to escape hit me much more than suddenly. I did have a Pastitsio, that was yummy! Just had to keep my eyes off the volcanic, bulging tummies. Thank goodness there were not many children there! Their mothers, the size of German tanks would have squashed them into instant mummies! I did buy an icon of Christos and Panayiota holding her child Both in a carved wooden case. Now this brought a smile to my face! And a turquoise evil-eye bracelet with crystals, to ward off any future toe and bison disgrace! Greek bread we brought to take home. I swore up and down to never leave my home, to roam. Greek cookies, Kourabiedes, and Greek bread, seemed to calm my confused head. Perhaps, going on a Saturday was the worst possible choice. Maybe I can go blindfolded next year and hush my voice? Or not go at all? Still have PTSD, after what I always previously I experienced as a yearly treat. It once was like going to a ball! September 10, 2029 The attendees were not Greeks.
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Book: Shattered Sighs