I just realized I never updated with Scarby Round Two: Son of Scarby photos.
Because I love you all so very much, here they be. As always, click for the slightly larger versions.
I went dressed as someone who couldn't be arsed to buy a "real" costume:
Al went as a Time Traveler (of course):
"We're bringin' sexy back. Waaaaaay back."
The traditional four-armed mating dance of the nerds:
She's looking at me this way in most of the photos. I wonder why . . .
Really, if you don't understand this next picture, you're just not cool enough to be on my blog. Or, perhaps, you're just not a nerd fighter (either way, how sad for you):
Three of the people refused to call me "the Merchant of Death" all day.
Craftsman at work, carving limestone:
First act of the day, a pyro-juggler. Whose first trick involved neither pyro nor juggling:
And then, he added juggling:
This is possibly one of my favorite visual gags:
And, finally, fire:
He eventually set his own nipple on fire. Yes, on purpose:
We made a stop at Zilch, of course, to hear all about Jomeo and Ruliet's pamily falace. And man, you haven't enjoyed Zilch until you've been called out for laughing too much. Good times:
All together, now: "awwwwwww."
Towards the end of the day, my brother and I signed an historic accord:
I believe I traded him the hat for Carly: