Forsooth! My comely new tunic.

Thanks, Taco!

In other news, I attended my first Renaissance Festival yesterday. Jon and I were laughing our asses off--not at the hordes of Ye Olde Nerdes in attendance, but at the rampant anachronisms. For instance, ATM machines labeled "Coin of the Realm" and exhibits sponsored by Time Warner Cable. Would ye like a glass of honeyed mead or a 20 oz. Pepsi, m'lady? The whole thing ruled. Plus, I bought a pair of ceramic "Pan Horns." (Hippies refer to the devil as "Pan," so he sounds like a nonthreatening self-rising pizza crust instead of a dark overlord and eater of worlds. They even named a particularly gay-sounding flute after the motherfucker.) I got red Pan Horns, which give me a class-A license to be ribald.

Notice I'm a brunette again. That means I'm smart and clA$$y. The price of pussy just went up forty-nine cents, y'all. Blonde says "whore" but brunette says "business escort." Plus now I can go on Jeopardy.