johnbowman.net

Larping is a strange drug.

There were many times this weekend when I felt miserable, cold and generally useless. I wondered to myself exactly what the hell I was doing out at that scout camp on the coldest Victoria Day weekend ever. Wearing a feggin’ kilt, of all things.

Afterwards, though, all we could talk about was how much fun the event was and what we have planned for the next one.

Selective memory? Obviously.

Collective delusion? Possibly.

Group masochism? I have little doubt.