At the ren faire

Hit the ren faire today as an anniversary activity. There are a handful of folks you see every year whether they should be there or not.

Pirates. They are the new Scotsmen, now that Braveheart is over. I saw two Jack Sparrows posing for photos together. En garde! Douché!

Goths. Any excuse to wear a corset in public. Enjoy the heat. And daylight, for that matter.

Biker sluts. Any excuse to wear a too-small, ill-fitting leather corset in public — and whatever you do, don’t cover the batwing tattoos. Hint: Fishnets are not period.

Barbarians. Accent on the “bear.” Take natural body hair, augment with more fur, add a (very) few straps of leather, and show off your awesome bod. Even if it’s not awesome. At all.

Cleavage queens. I should enjoy this vulgar display but I don’t. You managed to make your boobs look huge; could you try to make them look attractive, too?

Kids who don’t want to be here. And they don’t want to be dressed up either, but hey, that’s child abuse for you.

That said, we had a wonderful time. Mead, archery, glassblowing…good times.

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