As soon as I found out about this festival and realized it coincided with the day my son Dominic and I planned to drive from Atlanta to Savannah, I knew it was on the agenda.
I’ve been to many festivals and fairs. I have expectations. I can manage those expectations depending on the scope of the venture. Claxton Rattlesnake Roundup? It’s an annual, small-town, lookie-loo event. No expectations. McMinnville UFO Festival? Bigger event with a parade and a weekend of planned speakers. Higher expectations.
The banana pudding festival appears to be an annual state event with enough social media presence to get on the radar of someone in Oregon.
I had expectations.
I did not expect to wait 20 minutes on a two-lane road to be directed into a field to park — one of three, all off this same two-lane road.
I did not expect to wait another 30 minutes in line to pay a $10 entry fee. (Who charges an entry fee at a festival like this?!)
I did not expect to wait another hour in line to pay $10 to sample banana pudding along the “Puddin’ Path.”
This is the line for the Puddin’ Path.Dominic is so happy to finally be able to eat some pudding.
What — and I mean this sincerely — the fuck?!
One hour and $10 to sample eight versions of banana pudding, two of which were inedible? [One was “sourdough” (What? No. Stop.), and one was pecan praline (so sweet that I immediately contracted diabetes).]
And that’s it. Those eight samples equaled the only banana pudding available at the Georgia State Banana Pudding Festival.
You are deeply unserious festival planners. Clearly.
So what did our entry fee get us?
A vendors fair with all manner of offerings, including “sassy sewing.”A variety of wood creations and whatnot for sale.A few people with festival spirit.Hate crimes in merch form.An obstacle course driven by a blindfolded tractor driver.The ability to take this photo.
Not pictured: the 30-minute line for two porta-potties. Yes: TWO.
Also not pictured: The person running for Secretary of State who talked to us about his immigration stance, assuming we had the same political beliefs. Sir, I’m not your target audience, for a variety of reasons.
You know what WAS worth it: Spending this time with Dominic grousing about how lame your festival was. We are two of a kind and ended up having a great time.
Welcome, everyone, to the award ceremony for the first National Championships for the Mental Gymnastics!
(pause for applause)
The competition is complete, and we have our winners. Here are the following champions:
POMMEL HORSE: All the people killed, beaten, sprayed, pushed, detained, abused, etc., by the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement “officers” who have taken over Minneapolis, Minnesota. ICE has pommeled them repeatedly.* Congrats to these folks, mostly U.S. citizens! (So much winning! Are we great yet?)
STILL RINGS: Texas and Florida (tie). It takes immense strength and control to somehow avoid an ICE invasion when there are nearly 2 million and 1.2 million (respectively) undocumented residents, compared to Minnesota’s 130,000. How did they manage to come out on top? Their coach, Pam Bondi.
VAULT: ICE (and the DHS overlord Kristi Noem). They manage to vault right over the First, Second and Fourth amendments to the U.S. Constitution every day!
PARALLEL BARS: Kamala Harris. In a parallel universe — one without Elon Musk — she won the election and none of this is happening. Fun fact: Before the election, the right, with help from FOX News, said the Democrats would strip away the Second Amendment, jail us for what we say, drag us into more foreign wars, and cover up a sex trafficking ring, among other atrocities. Huh. Lookee here.
HORIZONTAL (HIGH) BAR: Joe Biden. He was crucified and had to drop out of the 2024 presidential race because he had a bad performance at a debate. Meanwhile, Trump sends the following letter to the Norwegian prime minister, and it’s just another Monday. Ho hum. Seems fine. Totally sane.
FLOOR EXERCISES: These were canceled as senators and representatives controlling Congress cannot be bothered to do the jobs outlined in the Constitution.
UNEVEN BARS: MAGA.
No foreign wars, unless Trump wants to start something with Venezuela or Denmark or Iran.
“America First,” unless Trump wants to give money to people in Greenland or Argentina.
No one should speak ill of Charlie Kirk because he was a husband and father and cared about his community, but Renee Good — also a mother and wife and someone who cared about her community — is fair game.
(Left) Kyle Rittenhouse meets with Donald Trump at Mar-a-Lago after acquittal. (Right) Alex Pretti documents ICE activity in Minneapolis Jan. 24 moments before he was killed, with the Trump administration claiming he was brandishing a gun.
BALANCE BEAM:No winners. Only losers. There is no balance, only hyperbole. For example, the rhetoric around immigration that led to the ICE buildup.
JD Vance claims there are 30 million undocumented immigrants in America. The number is closer to half. And they have been painted as rapists and murderers. According to extrapolated numbers out of Texas (the only place that really tracks), the number is 1.9 homicides per 100,000. There are more than 22,000 ICE agents. ICE killed 32 people in 2025. That’s about 1 per 688. I’d rather live next door to an illegal immigrant than an ICE agent.
*Side note: I can’t believe I have to say this but law enforcement officials are not allowed to execute “guilty” people either. We have a whole judicial system to determine guilt and punishment. Good and Pretti should be alive. For those of you saying, “FAFO,” I have a question and a comment. The question: Why are you defending these thugs? (Is it because if you admit they are wrong, you also are wrong for voting for this? Because you knew exactly what was going to happen. Or is it because you too were a high-school bully, and you love the violence?) The comment: Fuck all the way off with your inhumane self.
You must not have seen my last missive to you. You certainly didn’t get the message. The words in the purple box above are interesting, especially as I took a fresh trip over to your Facebook wall and found this:
My reaction:
I will pledge my vote, but certainly not for whom you want.
I received this email from you at 1:12 a.m. today. Have we met? Your name does not sound familiar. A quick search of Facebook revealed your account. We are not friends, so I’m not sure why I am on your mailing list.
I don’t want to keep you hanging on the edge of your seat waiting for my reply, so here it is:
No.
And not only no, but hell no.
While I was on your FB page seeing if we had any friends in common, I found this:
And this:
And, DEAR GOD, this:
It’s clear we are not on the same page about how to make “Amarica” great again. (“Again” implies there was a time when we were better than we are now. When exactly was that? Based on the information you posted publicly, I’m guessing you believe it is when slavery was A-OK.)