Huzzah

I have no details on the aforementioned Turkey Drop, except for the radio station doing a live broadcast from the Honda dealership and apparently, this was the second time such an event had been carried out. From that little fact, I deduce no one was killed the first time, and since our local television news "OH MY GOD MOVIE THEATERS ARE DIRTY" stations didn't report on any deaths by falling turkeys, I'm forced to conclude that somehow they pulled this thing off. Still. Stupid.

In lieu of falling turkeys though, The Fainter and I went to the Renaissance Fest on Sunday, where turkey legs were consumed with great gusto by people who weren't us, and where somehow goth Vikings with an S&M bent frolicked with fairies pixies and where gypsies seemed to walk hand in hand with the Knights of the Round Table. AND OH THE CLEAVAGE WE SAW. We heard rumors about people who come dressed up as Storm Troopers or in Star Trek uniforms, but we didn't actually see one. I did, however, see a Roman centaurion. 'The Renaissance' is apparently a lot more loosely defined in time than I've ever given it credit for.

Anyway, a good time was had, the highlight being the "Joust to the Death". Really, there was jousting, all with horses, trumpets, swords, Henry VIII, favors, and a whole bunch of princesses named Bridget waving bras and panties around. I AM NOT MAKING ANY OF THIS UP. The Fainter felt she had reached a whole new level of ridiculousness. Me, I promptly launched into the story of how Henry VIII fell off his horse during a joust, Anne Boleyn got freaked, had a miscarriage, and that was effectively the end of their marriage. Obviously, one of us has less of a grip on reality than the other, but at least neither of us came dressed as a Storm Trooper.