We're taking a brat break before landing our fluffy butts in Duck Creek—the kids at the campground will. crack. you. up.
[this is the sort of thing you're most likely to see on the new blog]
While I was admiring chocolate covered bacon in Burlington, Nanci was up to her Cub loving eyeballs in Johnsonville brats at Bratfest here at home.
Bratfest started on a 22 inch Weber grill and used to be in a parking lot on University and Midvale. Parking was fast, free, and easy. You got .25 sodas and change back from your dollar.
It's 27 nutritionally challenged (one grilled 85g link = 270 Calories, 22g Fat, 60mg Cholesterol, and 810—seriously—mg Sodium) years later, and The World's Largest Bratfest (the World wants its .50 hot dogs back) is gridlocked in the nightmare tangle of John Nolan Dr. event traffic.
They sold 208,752 brats this year.
I have to be in the mood to enjoy a crowd, as in being the most obnoxious one in the. Although I might have reconsidered had I known there were necklaces made of bratwurst and cheese wedges.
Must have brat and mini cheese wedge necklace.
They're giving away Rachel Ray?
Where is this hopless habitat, a kiddie splash park (what will stoned teenagers drink), church services, the back of a squad car?
Somewhere a redneck weeps...
...while horses laugh. Ironically they were pulling a Budweiser cart.
And the Grill Commander carried on.
Must visit Mount Horeb Mustard Museum.
Photos by Nanci