Fantasy Fest: Painted Nipples Approved, Toy Weapons Banned
May 5, 2009 by Loose Cannon
Filed under RUFKM Classic, Top Picture

These are truly dark times.
However, there is one thing that Americans have properly budgeted for:
shades of paint. I’m not talking about just being topless with an airbrushed rack, I’m talking about bodies dipped in primer. (Unlike every other photo and graphic on this site that we stole from Google images, all of these pictures are original RUFKM trademarked snapshots of the antics from October 25th, 2008).
this post was the actual headline. I can only imagine the town council meeting that hammered out the regulations of Fantasy Fest:
Town Council Ringmaster:”We have one more issue regarding Fantasy Fest this year. Painted nipples. For or against?”
CitizenClowns: “Against! Arrest them immediately, if not sooner!”
For prices ranging from $150 – $1,500 you can abandon all rational thought and have a specialist paint every pore on your body from your tits to your taint. Then you can walk around the rest of day smelling of Sherwin-Williams and ass sweat .
As I am a big fan of naked women, I thought that the lunatics that chose to spend all day roaming nude in front of thousands of people would look like Rebecca Romain in X-men, could at least spell gymnasium, limited themselves to 9 rounds at the sundae bar, and were not collecting social security.
I was wrong. Dead wrong.
Some of these creatures were stunning but, unfortunately, 99.9% of them would make make every human want to pluck out their pupils with a nickel.
for several hours.
- Where do you put your money/keys?
- How do you explain the tan lines tomorrow?
- Can you ever sit?
- When you fart, does paint splatter?
- Where are your grandchildren?
- What happens if you have to take a dump and how do you wipe?
- Is there a point in the night when you think this was a bad idea?
- Can you only hook up with other painted people?
- Do you enjoy rashes and large dermatology bills?
- Did you know your pictures would be on RUFKM in 2 days?
- And my final question: Are You F—ing Kidding Me???
Alas, I did not have time to have these deep thoughts answered
as my itinerary involved pushing a wheelchair, witnessing the world’s worst KISS tribute band, watching Captain Jack Sparrow fight a banana, ordering my 19th Vodka/Red Bull, displaying to the natives the mystical powers of my mustache, watching several members of the RUFKM army have complete emotional breakdowns, getting a ride home from a Domino’s delivery driver/serial killer, and watching one member think he was a dolphin and a dog– all in one night.
But those are stories for another day.
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I WAS WONDERING WHERE YOU GUYS WERE????
Next time leave a fucking note! I got to HQ and the place was chaos. Mr. Bigglestoot got out of his cage and ate your Tuff CD collection. Then he covered the RUFKM monitors in monkey feces (his own). To make matters worse no one bothered to leave me instructions on what to do about The Dark Lord’s “condition”.
I know he can be very, um, particular about his feedings. I didn’t know if I was supposed to hose him off first, or just let him wear the Tinkerbell costume over his straitjacket. (He smelled like Drakar and peanut butter, by the way. I think he’s been into your Party Box, again.) So finally, I gave him his injections of Garzine and then we watched his Faces of Death tapes and calmed down.
But man, I didn’t know he was going to {censored} all over the {censored} because if I did I wouldn’t have {censored} or {censored} because he [censored censored censored} so now the cat’s dead!
Glad you had fun you fuckers.
After stroking my hair and telling me "Everything's going to be OK, Dark Lord" Tyler slipped away to ingest his nightly dose of Valtrex.
>>>Editor's Note: To anyone out there in Cyberspace who uses Valtrex, has an itchy crotch, or gets around like the village bicycle, I apologize. Please calm down and refrain from violence. It was only a joke.
I was in Key West for Fantasy Fest 2005. First thing, remember which end of Duval Street you want to be on. On one end, there are the normal tourists, albeit in various stages of painted undress. On the other, end, there are more gay people than you can shake a teabag at. All cool with me, but if you are the least bit homophobic, you have to stay on the north end of the Island in order to keep from having a breakdown.
Fantasy Fest was a blast, and I came back telling my girlfriend that we both had to go sometime in the future. Keep the conch alive.