Tea 'n crumpits Gov'na'?

Any of you hobos ever been to the Renaissance Faire? If you have never gone, go now.
back so soon?
Anyway, bob went again on Sunday. This is only the third time I've gone and already my year revolves around it. I went first in 2004, and being totaly obsessed with fantasy and medeival history, I was enthralled. men in puffy pants and women in puffy dresses went around everywhere and called everyone their cousin ("good day good cousin!" etc.). so soon after that i had some extra money and a ren fair catologue so i got a kilt and shirt. If I just went like that I would be like one of those baffoons who were told that people dressed up, so they put on a bathrobe cape and sneakers and called themsleves "down right Elizabethen." So I got a nice belt and expensive renaissance shoes. this looked okay, not, "oh what a lovely costume if only I could afford one" okay, but passable. so this year i went all out and got knee socks, stockingflags, a sporran and claymore (enormous Scottish sword, perfect for whacking off English heads). all together my costume cost about $250 and I look pretty good.
but enough tartan babblings, on to the faire! I got up bright nad early (9:00) and my brother and I went to pick up my brother's friend. she is evil personified. her favorite hobby is hugging me because she knows I despise human contact. she fears stakes, crucifixes, silver bullets and all other forms of monster slaying. We got to the faire and after buggering around for a while we four (my brother, the Undead thing, a friend of mine and I) found the ye olde demonic armore shoppe. this, i believe was the beginning. The "it" took a picture with the salesman who was wearing black leather studded with red spikes. it was to be the first of overall 52 pictures taken that day. for some reason I was dared into going on the bungey jumps there, which was fun if slightly childish. it was especialy fun in a kilt. then we came upon the pixies. women in skin tight suits, spraypainted the color of their "element" (blue:water, green:forrest, etc). They did a kind of modern dance with people, acting kind of like people realy high on something, so every time we went by one, someone would whisper loudly "My psyciatrist said this was bad, but I'm seeing the pixies again." this gained the occasional laugh, but a lot of nasty looks. there is far too say to decribe the faire, so I'll start to put the slobber back in my mouth and fetch my dribble rag for the end. The next morning I slept until 1:00, four hours more than usual. and I delt with my faire hangover well*. So goodbye and beware the ides of march.

*Faire Hangover: a state of mind following a trip to the ren faire in which everything in your life seems so boring in comparison to all the fun you had yesterday that you want ot do one of two things; either sleep all day, or go back to the faire. the faire's far away so I always go with my second instinct.


The bravest fell and the requium bell tolled mournfully and clear for those who died that Easter tide in the springing of the year.
While the world did gaze with deep amaze at those fearless men but few, who bore the fight that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew.
~~The Foggy Dew - old Irish battle song
Bob