LiveBlogging A Comic Book Convention

Last Saturday, I worked for my friend G at a comic-book convention.  For some reason as yet unknown to me, possibly sleep-deprivation, I decided it would be interesting to live-blog the con.  Unfortunately, I had no internet access from there, so I did the next best thing:  I took notes.  Come join the fun!

8:30 – 10:00 AM – Setting up for the show.  Somehow G mishears my suggestion to bring Febreeze in case of stinky fanboys as a suggestion that we bring it for the crotch of a Buffy the Vampire Slayer statue.  The series of jokes resulting from said misunderstanding eventually lead to the concept of Schroedinger’s Crotch, i.e., all crotches are simultaneously stank and not stank, and there’s no way to know for sure which until it’s too late to back out gracefully.  (I suppose the female equivalent would be Schroedinger’s Penis, which is simultaneously perfect and woefully inadequate, with, again, no way of knowing for sure which it is until it’s too late to back out gracefully.)  Also, venue smells like a school cafeteria.  Further investigation reveals that the venue is, in fact, a school cafeteria.  Will be interesting to see if cafeteria smell overrides fanboy funk.

10 AM – Convention doors open to the public.  Remind myself to get something for daughter.  Remind myself to fight urge to get bunch of stuff for myself.

10:20 AM – Greatest non-“Schroedinger’s Crotch” line of the day thus far: “Let’s put the Iron Fist in the box.”  (It was a day for juvenile humour, okay?)

11:30 AM – Got a bunch of stuff for myself.

11:58 AM – Valuable lesson learned: do not eat Spicy Thai chips on an empty stomach.

12:15 PM – Noticed there has actually been a fair number of attractive women here.  Did they get lost on their way to someplace that attractive women go on Saturdays?

12:27 PM – Best out-of-context line: “It’s old and furry.”

1:15 PM – Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepy.

1:45 PM – Asked 7- or 8-year-old if they liked the Powerpuff Girls.  “I’m a boy!” the soft-voiced, long-haired child replied.  Then get a bloody haircut, hippie child, I thought.  Trust me, that kid looked like a girl.

1:58 PM – Second-best out-of-context quote:  “You gotta go with the big package.”

2:06 PM – Four hours in and no sign of an adult of ambiguous gender.  Starting to wonder if I was on my way to a comic-con and got lost in someplace cool.  (I maintain that that kid really looked like a girl.)

2:30 PM – Bought stuff for daughter and for ladylove.  Bought more stuff for self.

3:00 PM – Bored.  One hour left in convention; crowds dwindling and some vendors have already left.  Decided to start making shit up to finish blog.

3:10 PM – A large group of fanboys in long coats have thrown off their coats to reveal a number of cybernetic implants and chests that lack hair and resemble raw chicken breasts.  They declare that they are the D&D Bandits (Deadly & Dangerous) and they’ve come to loot the convention and sell everything on Ebay.  Due to their large number of apparently homemade implants, they are the first fanboys I’ve ever seen with a valid excuse for not showering.

3:12 PM – The D&D Bandits’ attempts to rip off the convention are interrupted by a group of very very attractive women in stiletto hells, fishnets, and PVC outfits that barely hold back large bosoms.  Wielding whips, nunchuks, paddles, and floggers, and calling themselves Hot-Ass Women Tired of Male Assholes and Makking Acceptable Slaves (HAWT MAMAS), they declare their intention to take every male in the building away to be sex slaves in their lair.  While nearly every other man in the room attempts to surrender to the, the remaining members of The D&D Bandits whose crotches did not explode in a shower of sparks at the sudden proximity of hot women attempt to fight the HAWT MAMAS away from their loot.

3:15 PM – As the two groups battle it out for the fate of the convention-goers, the GOP shows up and joins the fray, calling the Bandits “depraved barely-closeted homosexual freaks” and the MAMAS “uppity women who need to get back in the kitchen.”  In an amusing bit of irony, House Minority Whip Eric Cantor of Kentucky was whipped by a HAWT MAMA.  Later, Cantor would say to reporters that the experience “was not unlike talking with Dick Cheney.”

3:20 PM – SWAT team shows up.  Their first order of business is to destroy what little remains of the school, yelling words to the effect that if anyone is going to destroy Seattle, it’ll be Mayor Greg Nickels.

3:25 PM – The immense battle, now coverin several city blocks, is brought to a brief pause by the sudden appearance of Sarah Palin in a Supergirl costume.  Super-Palin, claiming she could “see the battle from her house in Alaska,” inadvertantly cripples the GOP combatants, whose crotches explode in a shower of sparks at the sudden proximity of her.

3:28 PM – John McCain arrives in a stealth bomber and immediately crashes into the last undamaged building in the neighbourhood.  Though he attempts to blame the crash on “liberal engine-making policies,” witnesses recount that the engine stalled when he tried to fly the plane at 20 miles an hour and had the left blinker on all the way up from Arizona.

3:30 PM – Superman, aided by fellow Krypton survivor Barack Obama, finally puts an end to the melee and repairs the neighbourhood at super-speed.  Most of the criminals/malefactors are taken to jail, though 3 of the HAWT MAMAS are missing and G insists on loading his SUV alone.

4:00 PM – The convention ends, and so does this blog.

VS – 01.27.09

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