I’m interrupting my current fictionalized-versions-of-terrible-people-meeting-terribly-fictional-endings series to indulge in some of that old Basket of Deplorable Writing Prompts style.

President Trump doesn’t know who Frederick Douglass is. More importantly, he’s unclear as to why Black History Month doesn’t focus more on the plight of the autocratic rich white guy who’s in way over his head.

Don’t worry, as always anytime President Trump’s inability to give two damns about anything outside of himself, there are hoards of people like Anon willing to stand up and say, “The black guy was bad too” ABOUT BLACK HISTORY MONTH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.

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Well, being inside the tent was no picnic. No, siree Bob. It  smelled of hay and horses and cotton candy and sweat and perfume. And all of it, including the excessive number of deep-fried fueled bodies packed in to it so tight you couldn’t breath in if the person directly in front of you wasn’t breathing out, were baking under the fat July sun. Near about everyone in town was under that tent. No one wanted to miss the 11th annual Parsham County Fair Narcissism Contest, I reckon.

It was all in good fun. A chance for the town elders and movers and shakers to have a little fun at themselves and let the rest of the town join in. Life isn’t always easy going and kind to the people of Parsham County and it does the farmers and laborers and hardscrabblers good to listen to Banker Francis talk about how the lobby at Parsham Savings & Loan was renovated just so his new boots wouldn’t have to get dirtied on decades old carpet. And it does everyone good to share a laugh while Mayor Capputo gamely admits to having issued official proclamations of gratitude the 4-H, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, ROTC, JROTC, Rotary Club, The Parsham Beautification Committee, and the Parsham County Small Businessman’s Club just so she could get her picture in the Parsham Republican-Gazette more often.

Yep, everyone, every year, enjoyed the Parsham County Fair Narcissism Contest. But no one more than me. Sure, it’s a pain to organize and put on each time, but it’s always worth it for the thrill of being able to make winners and losers out of the most powerful people in town. That they don’t realize how seriously I take that authority makes it even sweeter than tea after a long afternoon of bailing hay.

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