Heylo. We just got back from the Poconos, along with three garbage bags full of flea market crap and stolen jelly condiments from the many dilapidated diners and convenience stops we found along the way. The jellies sparked a great debate over how "Concord grapes" got their name, segueing sheerly by virtue of rhyme to a discussion about Cheers recurring character, Robin Colcord. The moral? Not much to do in that town -- you drink a lot in the Poconos.

Anyway, there's probably an article waiting to be written around the pictures I took, particularly those from a "Snake and Animal Farm" so unabashedly filthy that it's amazing everything in there wasn't dead. This'll have to wait till later, though -- gotta wrap up this week's "real" articles before I can torment you with the regular stuff. My next Top 11? Alien Invasion Movies. It'll be up tomorrow afternoon. Before I get back to Gort and Metaluna Mutants, there's one small thing I had to show y'all first...

At the Poconos' weekly flea market, an ice cream truck offered the goods: Super Mario Bros. Popsicles. Actually, I thought I was being misled -- the truck was advertising ice pops that haven't been sold in years, so when I asked for a Mario bar, the creature working inside kinda glanced at me with that whole "you're kidding, right?" look. She said she wasn't sure if they "had anymore," which certainly would've been for the best since they're a few years old. After digging through some boxes in the back of the truck, the creature lady emerged with what she swore was "the last Mario pop!" No really, she actually hopped up screaming "look, it's the last Mario pop!" As if I wasn't embarrassed enough just ordering the thing in my mid-20s, now I had creature lady shouting it at the top of her lungs for all of the flea marketing world to hear. I quickly threw a bunch of quarters at her and scurried off, like a skunk thrown into the middle of a busy flea market. I say this with firsthand knowledge -- there really was a skunk in the middle of the flea market.

See? The skunk's crazy owner waltzed through the event with her head held high and a goddamned SKUNK on a purdy red leash. Honestly, this alone made the entire weekend and all of its many wallet-crashing moments worth it. Still, kinda sucks that I saw the skunk before the flea market's other trump card -- The Polaroid Monkey...

Yup, some old guy rented out a booth so people could pay six bucks for a Polaroid shot with his pet monkey. The monkey, by the way, had let go of so much urine in that small booth that the guy had to keep his feet up on a chair to avoid getting all pissified. Really, really depressing sight. He wouldn't let me take a picture of the monkey, insisting that I shell out the six bucks for a "professional" shot. This was as close as I could get without him noticing. I'm not sure if there's any laws that'd make leaving monkeys out in the hot sun to piss all over themselves illegal, but it certainly seemed a bit off. Oh well, monkeys and skunks are prime candidates to brighten up any flea market. Back to Mario...

There it is. The bubble gum nose was so incredibly stale that my entire jaw collapsed upon trying to chew it, but at least the ice itself remained lemony and delicious. I've gotta get back to the articles now, but I didn't want anyone to go through Monday without the chance to see leashed skunks and Mario pops. That's my contribution to society for today, eat your heart out Mudda Teresa.

Here's s'more Flea pics...