Ok, so my weekend…

I managed to spend most of the time on the Druid’s hill, otherwise known as Cardiac hill (long walk, it’s great and keeps the drunken idiots away). I didn’t miss out on the perverted old “Druid” who asked me if I wanted a shot, sarcastically responded that I already had a shot in my mug, then asked if I wanted a “Special Druid hug”. Yeah, those of you that know me can imagine the look on my face as I respond with, “Hrm, special? Um, no.” With an, “If I don’t feel that I’m missing something, I’m obviously not.” When he claims that I’m missing out on the great things that a Druid hug contains. Good thing I didn’t have my sickle on me. That is a lovely weapon, and would tear throat skin quite nicely.

Oh yeah, other things, I learned some basic stick fighting techniques. That was damn cool, as was almost throwing the instructor off his balance when he asked me to punch the sparring mitt. I don’t think he expected a girl in a skirt to hit that hard, much less know how to hit. Then when we started into the sparring techniques, I surprised him when I defended against his punch then took his head to my knee. Gotta love it.

So anyway, I’m back. I have clean underwear, and I’ve changed out of the clothes I’ve been wearing the last 4 days. And I’m showered (don’t ever shower around people with no boundaries, you might get things in places you didn’t know existed). Yes, I haven’t showered since Thursday, for good reason. Surprisingly, I didn’t stink when I got home, in fact, I was quite amazed. Those little cottonelle things work great for a simple wipe down, but they make you sticky.

And yes, next time, we will be pulling off the Druid Night Ops schtick. And I hope to have my spear by then, because I will be carrying it after circle for those nits that thing a pagan festival is nothing but a giant orgy. Fuckers. We even had someone come up to our fire circle asking if the orgy was on the hill! Good thing I had already headed to my tent, or my sickle would have been in her throat. I’ll have to post a picture of that thing. Several of you guys would get a hard-on for it. Fits nicely around my neck, both sides of the blade are edged but not sharp, the point bites nicely, and there’s a 5 in. tang into the solid oak handle. But enough on that, I’m turning myself on.

I also managed to get rid of my farmer’s tan, to the tune of shoulder burn. Thankfully it’s not that bad and only hurts when I raise my arms above my head. Ritual, as usual, didn’t give me anything, but sure as hell took away a good bit of my energy. My Scotsman was convinced I was drunk Friday night, but it was all the result of the laughter in the women’s circle. We’re as bad as the men, if not worse, especially when the German is drunk, then combine the Kleine Deutsche (me) and we’re all going to hell.

Sometime after I headed to my tent, some nasty chick came and sat at the fire looking for the orgy. Needless to say my mentor and head of our grove told her to go away in more colourful words. The next night was just as fun, the “druid” thing happened after ritual, thankfully he didn’t find his way up the hill.

The End.

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