Strove to find a way to punch people in the face by using the Internet.


My original plan was to go with a girl and get a bunch of pics of me and her doing terrible medieval stuff so the comedy would doth ensue. No dice, though. Seems as if the combined prospects of spending the day with me and mingling with faire nerds didn't turn out to be much of a draw. Imagine my surprise.

If the first goddamn thing you see when you walk in isn't some robey Friar Tuck-ass motherfucker gnawing away on a turkey leg, run and get your money back, 'cause you at the wrong place.

So did the Medieval Faire invent big fat bellowy ponytail dudes, or do big fat bellowy ponytail dudes just naturally gravitate there, like spawning salmon?

I stood in front of this for like nine minutes, reading the sign over and over again to make sure it wasn't just a beautiful dream.

"You see, Billy? Keep yourself parked in front of the Xbox instead of going outside once in a while for a football game and you’ll eventually end up on the other side of this rope with Baron von Clownypants and his band of half-assed D'artagnans, instead of out here where the pussy is."

His stylish Oakley Blades hath caused Aerobics Gypsy to yearn for the touch of his robust build, but, alas, his stripey wand longs to caress only ToriAmosKitty771326 at hotmail dot com.

"Sorry, kingly decree sayeth thou must don puffy sleeves before thou canst breach the rope and challenge yon band of scrappy beekeepers."

Ha ha, ye olde rabbit ears. No doubt Crabass Da Vinci’s enormous right shoulder quivered with rage when he saw the tricketh his impish gay brother hath wrought.

Prithee, good shopkeep, but mightst thou stock ye modern wizards and dragons or... Ah, nevermind.

If that thing comes up Maid Marian your dad’s going to leave you here.

Hmmm, methinks the fence sprite hath caused mine loins to sprouteth a boner.

Yeah, there's nothing that'll whirl your imagination back through time like a bored soccer mom dishing you up a greasy slice of pepperoni.

Doth grass stains mar thy breeches? Try a little lemon juice.

The Blueberry Witch emerges from haunted Ersatz Castle to cast a spell on the audience. Now they all like anime.

Sir Rudy Hat realizing he locked his keys in his Acura.

If thou don't getteth thy stupid velour robe out of the way of my camera, I'm telling the Cartoon Network to cancel Naruto.

I'd joust it.

When did all these little plays and shit they do get so creepy and misogynistic? Everything that happened involved some knightly dude choking or swording or spanking a hapless maiden. I saw as many dastardly rogues swat indignant maidens on the ass as I did robey dudes eating giant turkey legs, and you know I saw a lot of those motherfuckers. Anyway, the nerds need to learn a damn social skill or two or get some better clothes or something, because the lack of poontang is twisting their minds and as a result their skits bum me out.

Although to be fair all that working-out-our-fear-of-women stuff doesn't stop the nerd girls from going along with it. Hell, these ones had their own little cheering section, complete with all kinds of preplanned rhymes to heckle their favorite squire or whatever. Listening to them made me feel very cold inside.

Squire Julio spins to engage his nemesis, an actual female, while in the background the Tardy Cossack scrambles to keep his bowl of gruel from getting kicked over.

If you look to the left, you can see how the excitement of furious intergender melee causes Sir Rudy Hat to levitate, slightly.

Squire Blooming Onion’s generous rump doth present a most inviting target indeed!

Something about the desperation in their eyes suggests they think that if they just juggle fast enough they can maybe outrun their fate, maybe trade in their split ends and billowy garb for good grooming and man-pants, and maybe — just maybe — as a result someday feel the naked titty of a normal, fully conscious woman in their hand.

But they can’t.

You know what else I noticed about the fuckin’ Faire? You can’t just joust or swordfight or have a human chess match in a normal, direct way. All the nerds have to fancy everything up in these elaborate storylines where Robin Hood is rivaling King Arthur for Snow White’s hand in marriage and the Princess Bride is secretly in love with Jethro Tull and how am I supposed to keep track of all this shit? You think you’re going to see a couple of knights have a good old-timey duel and the next thing you know two pirates, three clerics, a squire, a dungeon master and the queen disguised as a handmaiden have all run in to labor over some point of exposition and drastically reduce the amount of time the dudes in the armor spend whacking each other with fake swords. Hey, nerds — I’m sorry your community theater production of Our Town isn’t as fulfilling as you want it to be, but I’m totally calling bullshit.

Dude totally jumped off that horse onto that other dude.

Elf boy, what is it that scores you the fair maidens? Is it thy pimp suede vest? Thy magical cloak? Thy very recent trip to Super Cuts?

Yeah, that's what you want to do with a crowd of teenage Insane Clown Posse fans — sell 'em swords. Is anybody regulating this? Can't the government swoop in and round up these little Trenchcoat Mafia proteges before they go ballistic and start carving up the normal kids?

Wait, a black man? At the Medieval Faire? Poor guy must have lost a bet or something.

Oh dear, looks like chinstrap here has been converted from regularity to medieval ways, and will have to trade in his chinos for... Hey, what the fuck is Mae West doing hanging around with a fucking conquistador? Just what time period is this supposed to be, anyway?

Katie loves the Medieval Faire because it's the one weekend of the year anybody talks to her. Anybody at all.

It could be worse. At least he's wearing something.

Holy shit, I'm totally freaking out.

Hey! Grampa! The Dr. Livingston I Presume Faire is next week.

At what hour doth thy minstrels Slipknot commence?

That asshole district supervisor for Geico will rue the day he halved the per diem allowance of Count Spectacles.

Jesus Christ, it's a nice day to be doing something, anything, and... Ah... Ahhh.... I, ahhhh... I think i'm having a panic attack.



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