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The Wailing of Hobbits & Children follows.

I've spent most of the weekend with Rose and among various friends. Friday-night involved Cat's Corner, Saturday saw us to the annual Summer pool-party at Jenn & Alain's (thanks to Doug & Angela for the lift!), and we spent Sunday at the Tam-Tam's festival in Mont-Royal Park. Our trip to the Tam-Tam's occasioned us a glimpse into the life of the reclusive LARPer, as we witnessed a few hundred of all sexes, sizes, and hit-dice womping on each-other in some sort of warped game of capture-the-flag -- one that involved pointed ears, full, iron body armour, and the beating of children with Styrofoam swords.

After escaping the scene of broken bodies, strewn amidst the miasma of sweat, fear, and BAWLS, we pierced the thickets of cantering hippies and swaying belly-dancers. From thence, we transported ourselves to Place-des-Artes for a meal and to pick-up a copy of the schedule for the International Film Festival. We mixed up the stages and missed the 18h30 show.

While we there, we decided to peruse a tent selling books on the street, and it was there that I was surprised to be found by M.O. and her boyfriend, who were working at the tent.

Odd, odd world.

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February 2018
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