Summer is upon us, which means a lot of sticky things are, too. Melted Popsicles. Coagulating ice cream. Blood from a mosquito bite scratched too hard. And probably something else:

A blob of state fair food.

That's redundant, of course, because state fair fare usually comes in blob form — blobs of sugar rolled in grease or vice versa. You've heard of the deep-fried Oreos and butter on a stick. (I kid you not! It's battered first.) And last year, there was Wisconsin's contribution to the oeuvre: chocolate-covered bacon.

Given the fact that we seemed to be running out of things to batter and fry, I asked the readers of my contest in the magazine The Week to come up with a new state fair food. When I was done reading the answers, I felt as if I'd been dipped in Velveeta.

Very American, darn it. We may not have given the world Mozart or Michelangelo, but where else would a reader, Jim Banman of Colorado, come up with the genius idea of corn dog gelato?

I mean, that not only is gross but also sounds embarrassingly good, which is the mark of any great state fair food. That search for the gross/good nexus explains some of the more surreal suggestions: chocolate-covered deep-fried egg yolks, batter-dipped nicotine patches, caramel corn on the cob (which I would put my shoes on and run out for now if they sold it down my street).

Some folks sent in ideas just because they SOUNDED right, for example, malted meatballs. Others sent in ideas just because they sounded WRONG, for example, lobster and fudge brownie shish kebabs. When you are stuck for an idea, America, remember this: Put two things on a plate that totally do not belong there together: caviar and Kraft, sprinkles on Spam, marshmallows and whatever you'd eat in the morning. Really — how do you think Lucky Charms was born? I'm sure some exec was sitting there going, "What could we possibly put in this cereal that would make it so revolting kids would eat it?"

His first choice was probably chocolate syrup. Second choice was prune whip. Marshmallows were probably third, but they won because who would ever think of eating a BOWL of marshmallows? And now I do it all the time!

Er ... children do it all the time. Back to the state fair!

Other ideas that found their way to The Week included beer-battered baklava, caramel-covered tripe, bacon-infused light beer (really, bacon-infused anything) and one of my very favorites: The Hindenbird, a deboned rotisserie chicken filled with marshmallows (natch) and stuffed into a chocolate-covered watermelon, which is then doused in brandy and set on fire.

That one was sent in by one Hank Ingham of Eureka, Calif., which is a perfect place for such a wunderkind to live.

Unfortunately, it just wasn't wild enough to win. No, a little higher up was the "Blooming Chestnut," sent in by Brian Rhoads of West Chester, Ohio, who explained the treat consists of 68 Nathan's Famous hot dogs covered with 3 pounds of cheddar, and they are eaten like french fries.

To be washed down with a Cheez Whiz julep, no doubt.

Sure, these are all just fantasy foods right now. But come July, when you're rounding the corner from the prize-winning pickles, don't be surprised if you find any of these, possibly on a stick. And possibly with me there, scarfing it down.

I must be a real American, because writing this column has actually made me hungry.

Honey-roasted fries, anyone?