scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

30.10.06

Other nice things about the ren faire

Besides the centurion i've been pointing out to anyone who will look for five years, i mean - though i wouldn't recognize him in anything other than that little leather kilt, so if i ever do run into him in the real world (which, for all i know, has happened, and i just haven't noticed) i'm in no danger of going all giggly. But the little leather kilt and then his legs come out from under it and really, i should know what his face looks like, at least, but i only ever notice him when he's walking away so does it really matter? i make fun of men for this - all men - all the time. All the time. Fucking hypocrite. But i should still know what his face looks like. and also one sort of doesn't want to hear him say anything because he would probably turn out to be a complete moron and let's just keep the illusion, here. like if David suddenly woke up from being all marble he'd probably go around trying to slingshot postmodern art or something and clearly would have to be put away (notwithstanding the fact that we ALL secretly want to slingshot postmodern art, or anyway i do, but still) and then everyone would be sad because he wasn't quite so nice any more.

But. also. that when someone sits at your table - which there are approximately a dozen of you so you're fairly well taking up the whole thing and, well, whatever, but someone comes and sits at your table and then starts throwing cookies at you for no immediately obvious reason - hey, kiddo, you started it, and i honestly was just trying to be nice since maybe you're not here with anyone in all your finery, with that vaguely ostentatious silver goblet, at that, and i've drunk milk out of silver goblets and to be perfectly honest i know it tastes funny - well, when tiny people in ridiculous outfits with even more ridiculous on-again-off-again accents start throwing perfectly good chocolate chip cookies at you, it makes a good story. Kinda.

and, thanks, i do know my tits are fantastic. There's never been anything i can do about it; i didn't get to choose them out of a catalog. one might think to compliment people on, say, their fantastic taste in bodices. But no.

Also another reason i can't wait for vienna: living out in the country i think i have poison ivy again. Damn you.

scrawled @ 17:48