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Should have asked if he would like his armor bulletproofed. (armorers used to shoot their chest plates with a musket-the dent instead of a hole was "proof" that it could stop a bullet.)
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Google "Ren Faire Babes" and go to a site called "Babes with Blades". I'd post the link but might be against COC.
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No pics....fail.
ETA: Google "Ren Faire Babes" and go to a site called "Babes with Blades". I'd post the link but might be against COC.
Them some ugly wenches. WTF....epic Fail!!! |
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You know you've had a bad day when you get wet shit on your leggings.
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and a tag. Ronman, is it you? Definitely had Ronmann potential. Only thing missing was some wench punching him in the butthole. |
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I was a ren Faire cast member for about eight years...met my wife there, as a matter fo fact.
One evening we were finishing up rehearsing a stunt show the night before the opening of faire...a full dress rehearsal. Armor, swords, the works. Were just finishing up when there was some sort of mechanical difficulty on one of the stage shows. It was dark, there was no lighting, and some of the guys had pulled a car to within a hundred feet or so of the stage and turned on the headlights, but the lights couldn't illuminate the area where they needed light. No one had a flashlight, the dumbasses, when I remembered, 'Hey, I've got my H&K USP under the seat of my truck and it ahs the factory light clipped to the rail !' So I go get the light and bring it over. The facotry light is bright as fuck, it lit the stage up like no one's business. A dozen or so armor-clad faire geeks marvelled at the output, and I told someone, 'yeah, it's the light I keep mounted on my truck gun.' A few minutes later as we are finishing the construction work on the stage, a coupel of filthy, armor-clad douchebags wearing radio headsets come trotting up, smelling of B.O. and pot smoke. They are 'site security' who work for the owner. One of the dipshits asks if he heard correctly, that I have a firearm in my truck. I respond, 'Yeah, my day job is with the county sheriffs.' He puffs up..."You can't have a weapon here." Now, between the twenty or so costumed performers there, there had to be at least fifteen swords, two dozen knives and an axe or two. and a good two-thirds of them weren't schlager (blunt) blades but the real deal in various states of sharpness. I've seen a few swords that could shave hair. And most of the smaller knives and daggers were sharpened for eating and utility use. No weapons. Um, yeah...right. |
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I attended a local renaissance festival yesterday. I figured that with all the mead fueled ruffians running about with swords, maces and daggers, it would be a good idea to protect myself. I had my Desert Eagle holstered in plain sight on my right hip. Unfortunately, the weight of it it kept pulling my tights down, so I decided to ditch the holster and just stick the barrel down into my cod piece. Later on, I'm just standing around the food tents minding my own business and enjoying a turkey leg and a tankard of Dr. Pepper, when this fat guy in a Charlotte Hornets jacket and a chain mail helmet comes up to me and and identifies himself as the "king's constable". He then asks me "what manner of arms I have about my person" and "what is my business in the king's realm?". I told him I was just waiting for the 2:15 joust to start and could he please point me in the right direction. He then starts going on about dangerous weapons being prohibited "on ye olde faire grounds". The last thing I wanted was to have this turd try to confiscate my weapon, so I just turned my back and started walking toward the crowd that formed around two juggling midgets riding a goat. The "constable" follows me yelling his head off, until I finally lost him by ducking into a Porta-Potty. After about five minutes I figured the coast was clear and I emerged from the stinking can only to find that I had somebody else's wet shit smeared across the back of my leggings. After quickly making my way to the parking lot, I kicked the bottom half my costume under a Mini Cooper parked next to me and drove home in my underwear. As if all this weren't bad enough, I woke up this morning with a fever and reddish yellow pustules all over my body. I think I might have contracted the black plague. _MaH |
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Did you listen to any renaissance bands while there? Did they sing about Freecreditreport.com?
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ETA: Google "Ren Faire Babes" and go to a site called "Babes with Blades". I'd post the link but might be against COC.
Them some ugly wenches. WTF....epic Fail!!! So I says to myself, "Self, let's go check out all these hot babes all these RenFair people constantly talk about." Went to the link, and yeah, NOT hot. |
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YOU WILL NOT TOUCH MY CODPIECE!!!11!!! Not a problem, truly, not a problem. OP, you blew it. Everyone knows you can only open carry a matchlock at the Ren Fair. Dumbass |
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Quoted: Quoted: and a tag. Ronman, is it you? Definitely had Ronmann potential. Only thing missing was some wench punching him in the butthole. I'm waiting for the sequel. |
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so I just turned my back and started walking toward the crowd that formed around two juggling midgets riding a goat
It's lines like this that make a good thread. |
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So, do the two sword fighting commedians still play? "A mortal woooooooooound" |
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This thread would confuse me less if it had been posted by kitwulfen.
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Quoted:
I attended a local renaissance festival yesterday. I figured that with all the mead fueled ruffians running about with swords, maces and daggers, it would be a good idea to protect myself. I had my Desert Eagle holstered in plain sight on my right hip. Unfortunately, the weight of it it kept pulling my tights down, so I decided to ditch the holster and just stick the barrel down into my cod piece. Later on, I'm just standing around the food tents minding my own business and enjoying a turkey leg and a tankard of Dr. Pepper, when this fat guy in a Charlotte Hornets jacket and a chain mail helmet comes up to me and and identifies himself as the "king's constable". He then asks me "what manner of arms I have about my person" and "what is my business in the king's realm?". I told him I was just waiting for the 2:15 joust to start and could he please point me in the right direction. He then starts going on about dangerous weapons being prohibited "on ye olde faire grounds". The last thing I wanted was to have this turd try to confiscate my weapon, so I just turned my back and started walking toward the crowd that formed around two juggling midgets riding a goat. The "constable" follows me yelling his head off, until I finally lost him by ducking into a Porta-Potty. After about five minutes I figured the coast was clear and I emerged from the stinking can only to find that I had somebody else's wet shit smeared across the back of my leggings. After quickly making my way to the parking lot, I kicked the bottom half my costume under a Mini Cooper parked next to me and drove home in my underwear. As if all this weren't bad enough, I woke up this morning with a fever and reddish yellow pustules all over my body. I think I might have contracted the black plague. -1 for using ye incorrectly |
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If you were really at a Ren Faire that weapon would have been peace bound! |
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Sounds like ya got a case of the YE OLD BLACK DEATH... you should have bladed at 45
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YOU WILL NOT TOUCH MY CODPIECE!!!11!!! thou shall touchest not mine copiece. |
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Thine painting maketh me laugh heartily! It's 'Thy painting". Thine is used before a word starting in a vowel or h. |
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Quoted:
I attended a local renaissance festival yesterday. I figured that with all the mead fueled ruffians running about with swords, maces and daggers, it would be a good idea to protect myself. I had my Desert Eagle holstered in plain sight on my right hip. Unfortunately, the weight of it it kept pulling my tights down, so I decided to ditch the holster and just stick the barrel down into my cod piece. Later on, I'm just standing around the food tents minding my own business and enjoying a turkey leg and a tankard of Dr. Pepper, when this fat guy in a Charlotte Hornets jacket and a chain mail helmet comes up to me and and identifies himself as the "king's constable". He then asks me "what manner of arms I have about my person" and "what is my business in the king's realm?". I told him I was just waiting for the 2:15 joust to start and could he please point me in the right direction. He then starts going on about dangerous weapons being prohibited "on ye olde faire grounds". The last thing I wanted was to have this turd try to confiscate my weapon, so I just turned my back and started walking toward the crowd that formed around two juggling midgets riding a goat. The "constable" follows me yelling his head off, until I finally lost him by ducking into a Porta-Potty. After about five minutes I figured the coast was clear and I emerged from the stinking can only to find that I had somebody else's wet shit smeared across the back of my leggings. After quickly making my way to the parking lot, I kicked the bottom half my costume under a Mini Cooper parked next to me and drove home in my underwear. As if all this weren't bad enough, I woke up this morning with a fever and reddish yellow pustules all over my body. I think I might have contracted the black plague. To quote my Grammy - "Lie Down with Dogs, Get up with Fleas." |
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and a tag. Ronman, is it you? I was scrolling down thinking this. |
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psh, should have been authentic and carried a broadsword. Maybe I should have. As it was, I've not felt so unwelcome at a Renaissance Festival since I showed up at one last year dressed in in a Star Trek uniform and carrying a phaser. P.S. Thank you all for your e-mails and heartfelt expressions of concern about my health. The black plague is no fun, but I'm feeling a little better since my sores have begun to drain. However, there is much more pus since yesterday. If I make it through today, I'm going back to my barber so he can bleed me again. He said I will feel better once he drains me of another quart. |
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psh, should have been authentic and carried a broadsword. Maybe I should have. As it was, I've not felt so unwelcome at a Renaissance Festival since I showed up at one last year dressed in in a Star Trek uniform and carrying a phaser. P.S. Thank you all for your e-mails and heartfelt expressions of concern about my health. The black plague is no fun, but I'm feeling a little better since my sores have begun to drain. However, there is much more pus since yesterday. If I make it through today, I'm going back to my barber so he can bleed me again. He said I will feel better once he drains me of another quart. If that fails can we launch your corpse over the wall of the faire? |
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is there a site with all those medieval paintings redone like that? I have seen some others out there. |
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DISENGAGE....DISENGAGE....DISENGAGE !!!!! YE OLDE MASSIVE ADRENALINE DUMPE!! |
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YE SHALL NOT TOUCH MY CODPIECE!
YE SHALL NOT TOUCH MY CODPIECE! ETA: Way late on this it appears. |
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That's no codpiece, that's part of his flight gear (chute?) cinched around his nuts. You think that's bad, you should see how people look after making a swiss seat for rappeling! Dare I ask what movie the Connery pic is from? Well, it certianly looks like a presidential codpiece. The Sean Connery pic is from the classic 1974 film "Zardoz". (Not a favorite of the critics, but I think it is better than all the Bond films combined.) |
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He then starts going on about dangerous weapons being prohibited "on ye olde faire grounds". BWAHAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAAH this is my fav line... I would have told him: This be my magic wand that only wenches can touch! |
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