Seriously??

First off, apologies on not blogging in such a long while. We've been busy doing important, summer-related things. Like swimming and eating snowcones and--okay, never mind what we've been doing. The important thing is that we're back. :)

So. We were discussing what to blog about and Stacey came up with the idea to do Weird Summer Festivals/Beauty Pageants. And I was like "Yeah! Let's do that!" Because I thought it would be really fun and probably fairly easy.

Yeah--not. So not.

(SJ: Sorry, man. I have ideas and then I make you do the work. Next time I promise to do the hunting and googling. But you did great work here. I think you deserve a promotion of some kind.)

Because as it turns out, there is a LOT of freaky stuff going on out in the world, people. It was practically impossible to narrow it down to just one post.

For instance, in Prairie du Sac, Wisconsin they have . . .

The Wisconsin State Cow Chip Throw!!!

And they aren't throwing Doritos. They're chucking wedges of 100% authentic cow poop. Last year the top scoring contestant tossed his cow poop over 172 feet.

Did I mention that you can't wear gloves?

Throwing poop competitively is an, er, unusual summer activity (unless you're a monkey), but compared to this next festival it looks positively mundane--

The Fiesta of Near Death Experiences

Every year people who have almost died make a pligrimage to Las Nieves, Spain where they GO TO CHURCH IN A COFFIN. THAT'S HELD ALOFT BY MEMBERS OF THEIR FAMILY. I'm not even making this up. At some point, they each get up and tell their almost-death story and then they all go outside and have fireworks, carnival food, and general merriment.

This festival raises all sorts of questions. Like, where do these people get the coffins? Did they just happen to have a coffin lying around the house, or did they have one specially made, or what? And how do they decide what to wear? Fashion mags rarely discuss the appropriate attire for attending church in a coffin when you used to be dead except now you aren't. And the most burning question--how the hell do they get their families to agree to carry their not-dead asses around in a coffin for an entire day?? My sisters won't even let me borrow their shoes. No way are they hauling me around in a coffin, even if I WAS dead. I'd have to put my coffin on wheels and hitch it up to a donkey.

Except I don't have a donkey. Or a coffin. See? All kinds of questions . . .

Anyway, brace yourselves because this next pic is hands down one of the Top 5 Most Disturbing Things I've Ever Seen in My Life. (Also see pic at very top of this post)

In Castillo de Murcia, Spain, they have A BABY JUMPING FESTIVAL.

Let me say that one more time. A. Baby. Jumping. Festival. As in, they literally JUMP OVER BABIES.

But wait. It gets better. Not only do they jump over the babies, they do it while wearing scary, Circus clown/Elvis type costumes and wielding whips and truncheons. This is for the babies own good, as it cleanses them of evil. I don't know about you, but I think the evilness of babies is a plague that has been overlooked for too long. The way they just sit in those cute little carriers, swaddled in soft blankets, blinking big, innocent eyes at the world. You know they have to be up to something.

(SJ: Total aside, but that made me spit coffee. You are funny, Linker.)

I have some questions about this festival too. First, do they steal these babies or do parents actually consent to this? And if they consent, what kind of crack are they smoking? Who puts their helpless baby on a mattress so a scary dude in a Halloween costume can jump over it? I mean, seriously--that's the kind of childhood trauma that keeps therapists in business.

But I don't know. It's been a while since I had a baby. Stacey, what do you think? Would you let a freak dude jump over Logan to cleanse him of evil?

SJ: No way in hell. My baby is made of sunshine, not evil. Now if the dude could jump over him and his teeth would magically come in (instead of painfully breaking through the surface causing days of weeping and wailing)....well...that might be something I'd consider.

The true test of a good sense of humor is your ability to make fun of yourself, so as Arkansans we're going to go ahead and own up to a little piece of freakiness that takes place right in our own backyard.

The Miss Drumsticks Pageant!!

Yellville, Arkansas, located in the Ozark mountains, is home to the annual Turkey Trot Festival.

Which technically happens in October, not the summer, but since it's in our home state we're going to exercise our executive blogging powers and include it anyway.

Contestants in Miss Drumsticks are judged on their legs ONLY. Their faces and bodies are hidden behind a picture of a giant turkey. There's no talent portion, evening gown division, or onstage question. Just the gams. This is not to be confused with the Ms. Mosquito Legs contest, which takes place in Texas. Drumsticks legs and mosquito legs are two completely different things.

And I'm going to go ahead and say it: An Arkansas Drumstick Queen can kick a Texas Mosquito Leg Queen's butt any day of the week. In fact, maybe that should be a new festival. Turkey's vs. Mosquitoes. It needs a catchier name, though. Any ideas?

SJ: Not really, but Drumstick Queen sounds much cooler. Mosquito legs are so skinny and shapeless. And they've got six of them. Maybe this festival in Texas is near some sort of nuclear facility?

Until next time!

xo

Stacey and Julie