As the weather warms up, my thoughts naturally turn to sunscreen, outdoor cinema, beach vacations… Unfortunately, I also think of Renaissance faires. From meadow to wood, these traveling minstrel shows set up shoppe for a few days of costumed frivolity. Celebrating the age of the Bard, RenFaires provide a balm to the spirit, a respite from the modern storm, a step back in time, a rare opportunity to rub starched linen elbows with the occasional jongleur…In other words, these most rare and precious of gatherings are a time to inflict some serious old-school torture.
Ye Olde Newsflashe: If you’re carrying a lute, you clay-witted codpiece, you’re gonna get your ass kicked. The Dark Ages may be over but I’m still going to make your world go black. To aid me in my quest, I call upon my noble and true hand puppet. With mini club in hand, Punch can swing away in the direction of your jingly jester hat. With a heavy tankard, he can swipe at wenches and whelps in kind.
Prithee, bend over so that my good friend can more easily kick you in the breeches with his wee leather boots or vigorously jab you with his jousting lance (sadly, not a metaphor). My dude’s got mad skills. After all, he’s a Renaissance man.
Verily.
(photo: flickr.com/photos/lulusfishtank/230118658/)
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13 comments:
Please please no more photos....;-)
I love this one more than words can say.
Ye are killing me. Methinks this has just been waiting for a punch. Love that pic-- God.
Ok, true true with the jesters, but who doesn't love having their tits shoved skyward in a corset? I mean, ability to store trinkets in my breasts, yes please! :)
Two years ago, a guy took me to a Renaissance Fair on our second date; we haven't spoken since. The creepiest part about this post, though, is that I saw the guy in that picture perform at the fair. :shivers from the memory:
While I heartily agree that they seem a little creepy, three things I can appreciate... 1) Ren Faire attendees enjoy the corseted, full figured woman who can put down her fair share of mead, 2) at least they keep to themselves - you actually have to go out of your way to get to a faire, and 3) chainmaille rawks!
verily.
True, chainmail doth rawk verily... until thee must make use of the privy. Thence, the chainmail doth make matters sucketh in a measure disproportionate to it's rawkitudinousness...
That photo will visit in my nightmares.
the jester hat has its moments.
"Hark now, methinks I do hear the sounds of the minstrels upon the green!" Or could it be the sounds of them getting punchith in thy faceith?
Why are Renaissance Festivals an excuse for people to squeeze in tights and pretend they're performance artists? I didn’t think performance art existed in the 15th century… or spandex for that matter… Some of the festivals aren't so bad, but there are a few people at each festival that can ruin the whole day. I’d just like to eat my big turkey leg and mini-doughnuts in peace. I don’t need someone covered in mud trying to hug me, and I need to see women in chainmail bikinis.
Lo! My skin crawleth.
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