Well, I have been pretty lazy with this here so called blog but not because i have nothing to say, I just don't know what to say that most, ok, the three people who have ever read my blog, don't already feel anyway, but I'll try. I recently went to Frankenmuth, MI or some might say "Little Bavaria," whatever the hell that means to people who have never been to Bavaria anyway, and it was my first time ever to this strange and seemingly very brown and tan town. Endless signs made of wood hung from storefront windows trying to sell you sausage, cheese or pounds of fudge for as much as the sucker, who thinks he is in Bavaria, will pay. My wife and I were sucked in to a candy store with an urge to get high on the exotic "Bavarian" chocolate they had to offer. Upon entering the squeaky wooden floored facility we were greeted by a haunting looking old man made of some unknown material holding a tray filled with real "Bavarian" peanut brittle. I took some and so did my wife and immediately were driven mad with the desire to purchase their products of homemade goods "Bavarian" style. Gorging ourselves on chocolate covered marshmallows and pretzel sticks that would have driven Willy Wonka insane, I was immediately hooked on getting as much fudge as 20 bucks would by me (I don't even like fudge!). Like two crack addict whores who felt we didnt get enough for our money, we left with 3 types of "product" and a peculiar desire to come back at a later date( because we forgot the camera) and repeat the terrible process all over again.
Ive never had a desire to go to Frankenmuth before and after seeing this bizarre brown and tan town that looked like a cheap version of a cheap version of a medieval village( Excalibur hotel anyone?) I cant say I would want to go back on my own.....like EVER! I did however imagine it as an abandoned tourist attraction sometime in the far distant future that maybe the Road Warrior would have to fight his way out of against some mad 10th generation Lutheran German savages wearing wooden clogs, carrying machine guns, and blazing away! Ill have to pitch that at my next meeting with a Hollywood producer.
2 comments:
I'm a milk chocolate kind of guy myself. It is my brown heroin.
I used to go there every year for a chicken dinner and a walk thru the Christmas house. I always looked forward to going and then at the end of the day wonder why I drove that far for a over-priced chicken dinner and to look at Christmas decorations when I don't even put up a tree. Ahhh, that's right, TRADITION. I forgot.
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