I've always had an aversion to amusement parks - a mecca for assorted trash in every sense of the word. Amusement parks with "Fun Houses" and other sadistic attractions designed by


I have a clown phobia and PTSD stemming from them popping balloons in my baby face. Or was that the child molester who blew up a condom for kicks? Either way, places like Coney Island, Playland, Seaside Heights and Knoebels leave a bad taste in my mouth,too.
No one was more surprised than I to find myself lured to Coney Island's new Luna Park - like a luna moth to a flame, so to speak. And I was thrilled by what I witnessed. An colorful ride called
THE AIR RACE
After making sure all the riders were securely locked in, the attendants ran away from the amusement as fast as they could and I couldn't imagine why - It started off innocently enough. And then it transformed into a ride guaranteed to cause a lifetime of chiropractic visits.
After making sure all the riders were securely locked in, the attendants ran away from the amusement as fast as they could and I couldn't imagine why - It started off innocently enough. And then it transformed into a ride guaranteed to cause a lifetime of chiropractic visits.
By the time The Air Race finished, black people had turned white, white people were green, and half of them had lost thier shoes & wallets. If I were still bulimic, I'd organize a field trip to Luna Park where we'd first partake of NATHANS and WILLIAM'S CANDY before taking a whirl
ON THE
ELECTRO SPIN
ON THE
ELECTRO SPIN










Their Muslim sisters appear in everything from full out burquas to niqabs to simple schmattes loosely tied around their heads.
I've seen these swaddled women sweltering on the beach, their huddled masses
yearning to breathe free. But I also take notice of other women in their bikinis and perfectly
hairless bodies, thanks to waxing and the waning of pubic hair. The only mammalian vestiges
are the cups runneth over with silicone and saline solutions.
Now I ask you, who's more oppressed - the buqua clad mothers frolicking with their kids in the
water or the overexposed bathing belle with her ex-boyfriend's name tramp stamped above her
derriere?
So, once again, I am raising hornworms. Very interesting, these larval Sphinx Moths.
They bury themselves to pupate - remember in the movie, "Silence of the Lambs" when the entomologist extracts a foreign object from a cadaver's trachea - that was the chrysalis of a hornworm. A Baby Sphinx Moth. Of course, in the movie it was the "Death's Head Sphinx."
! WHAT A BEAUTY!