He probably would get laid at the Faire. He'd been to a Renaissance Faire once before, near L.A., a few month ago - May, was it? - and he'd gotten lucky, way lucky. Jesus, he'd fantasized about it dozens of times since. There was this game, Drench-a-Wench, that involved sling-shotting a wet sponge at an array of wanton maids sitting on a little bleacher of hay bales. If you hit one, you got a kiss. He'd wondered how long that game could possibly last with a new STD being discovered every day. Just for fun, he'd played. [He hits and kisses some blonde, and that was fine and then notices an exotic brunette checking him out, and she says...] "Truly, I am shocked, sir. Paying for thy kisses when thou couldst surely get them free."
Lovely. Just lovely. Anyone wondering how I came to exist, there's your answer right there.
4 comments:
this is awesome on so many levels
mainly the level on which i freak out.
i want to know who took out the time to listen to the conversation twixt your father and me.
yeah, there was a blonde or two, but there was this redhead, too...
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