Bibarians and boobs
I like to go LARPing (Live Action Role Play). Last year before our society's annual Summerfest, one of the ladies suggested that she would like to see some of the men dressed up in eighties Conan The Barbarian style fantasy kit, for a giggle.
This sounded like fun to me and I wanted a go, so I tried my best to persude as many people as I could. Sadly not that many men were keen on the idea. Then during one late night facebook chat the idea came that an incentive should be offered, namely that for each man that dressed as a barbarian, one woman would come out for the night dressed in skimpy furs.
The idea caught on, and twenty six people said that it would be fun and they would make kit and wear it, just for a change from the usual medieval fantasy clothes we would usually wear for Summerfest. Also, the society books a scout camp, so there wouldn't be anyone else around to tell us we looked daft.
Summerfest approached, and the society message boards were full of jokes about skinning three dormice or the one lad who was always keen to get his kit off and some people worrying about wobbly bellies exposed, the keen was seemingly there.
Come Saturday night, the bar tent was set up and doing fine trade, I had finished making the fake fur kilt for my other half, some major battles had happened during the day, most characters survived and were celebrating and everyone was in good spirits.
Then the drizzle set in and our Barbarian host was reduced to myself, the lad who always gets his kit off at parties, and another fella who just wanted to wear the fake fur kilt.
We hit the bar and started to behave badly; playfighting, trying to intimidate the barstaff out of charging us for drink, burping, spitting ale at people, shaking hands very vigorously, and not understanding what anyone said. My character was named Boobina by the other barbarians, so I hit them both with a club and ran off giggling like a loon, only to be caught, pretend knocked out and force fed more booze. As the night wore on people stopped asking me if I was cold in my fake fur bikini top and miniskirt, barefoot, muddy and drunk. The chap in the fake fur loincloth and butchers mail started a tag-team fight with the local millitia (which we won) and I tried to find gainful employment as a guard on the gate of the compound.
I was busy guarding the gate, challenging all comers when the mudwrestling started, and costume malfunctions were by all accounts the norm. These were the Bibarians. I'm a little sad that I missed that, it would have been fun to watch.
(herefromthere, Mon 10 May 2010, 13:50, 2 replies)

"We hit the bar and started to behave badly; playfighting, trying to intimidate the barstaff out of charging us for drink, burping, spitting ale at people"
Wow. Sounds like a girly version of the game the teenagers in Mordor play "Give us your money or we'll shank ya."

FFS.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 10 May 2010, 13:53, closed)

I tried reading this....
but it all went wavy after the first mention of Conan the Barbarian. Not your fault, more the fact that I have a strange attraction to Sandahl Bergman in that film. Strange because I only think she is red-hot fuckalicious when she is gatecrashing the orgy, and has got a great black stripe over one eye as camoflage. I have no idea why, really, but one of these days I'm going to get my hands on a lithe blonde and make her put the body paint on........CROMMMMM!!!
(Rsoles, Mon 10 May 2010, 18:38, closed)