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I was patiently standing in the ticket line at the Fringe Festival. Then the middle aged man right in front of me abruptly took off his pants. When he began to twist and turn and fidget with his belt, I nervously stepped back. Personally, I didn't think that when I signed up to cover the Fringe Fest it meant I would be within tickling distance of another man's ball sack. The throng of theatre goers at the Bryant Lake Bowl hardly even noticed the disrobing right in front of them. I guess this was just normal Fringey behavior. I took a long hearty gulp off my beer.
Green is the new watchword for consumer products and goods. We can track our carbon footprints, find out how many miles our food traveled to our plates, and make a point only to have toe-curling carnal gymnastics with Prius drivers — so why do we insist on persecuting those entrepreneurial souls trying to provide a local option to area