Whoa! Transvestite.
COMIC CON!
Home again home again
This week was...well it was pretty much awesome.
Wednesday was the Muse concert, I've already spazzed over that.
Thursday around noon teh Seansington and Dr. Alex came and picked me up and we made our way to San Diego, the last half of the trip spent listening to Dr. Who books on tape offa my ipid. We got our badges, wandered around a bit and then went back to the hotel (La Pensione) wherein we all piled into Sean and Alex's room until I got tired and trudged back to my room where, try as I might, I couldn't fall asleep.
I ended up staying up til 5AM....the next thing I know, it's morning and Sean is calling at 7am. I think I might have sworn at him and hung up, but then I got another call at 8:30, gave up and got up to get ready for the day. Sean and I wandered around Littly Italy, where our hotel was located and speculated on us becoming crochety old people while we were sitting on a bench by a fountain. We figure Sean is going to be one of those old men with the crazy overgrown houses who gives kids candy. I made up a new game, wherein every time you see a Cosplayer who, by rights, shouldn't be wearing whatever costume they're concoted, or hell, even the ones that look really good, you scream (out loud or in your head, as you wish) "Whoa! Transvestite!" It makes everything just that. much. funnier. Much con was had, free shit, drawings, penny arcade and all. All this crap, all those people, all the things I saw, did and got and the higlights of the con was this stupid little button I found at the Dumbrella booth. I saw it and squealed and grabbed it and demanded to know where it had come from. Because it was a mother fucking REBOOT button! If you don't know what Reboot is you're so missing out. It's my favorite souvenir from the Con. Anyway, turns out the dude didn't know where it was from, or who it belonged to, so he said I could have it if I wanted. We did the World's worst cartoons, which was hilarious and Spike and Mike's Sick & Twisted, which was ...actually sort of mentally scarring, thinking back on it.
Saturday and Adam joins the party and we wander him around for his first con experience. It was funny, he bought alot of pro-communism stuff and Carrie screamed "capitalist!" at him every so often. Stuff happened. Saw the Nerf Herder...sort of. Much useless shit was bought. Then plans were made to go drinking.
Oh, and the drinking that was had.
Saturday night we went drinking with the Dumbrella kids, Tycho from Penny Arcade, the Dumbrella Monkey known as Dave and a buttload of other people I couldn't possibly name. We were given dumb directions to the bar at the Westgate Hotel, a place you would only be able to find if you knew it was there. Therein we met the bartender. A tiny swiss man known only as Alfred. God's own bartender. This man was tiny and amazing and could make you a drink even if you didn't know what the hell you wanted. Give him an ingrediant, flavour, hell, probably even a TEXTURE and he had a drink for you. I asked for a drink that tasted like an alcoholic shirley temple and he made me a drink that tasted like someone had spiked the hawaiian punch at a 5-year olds birthday party. After drinking we staggered back to the hotel like the drunks we are and collapsed into bed.
Sunday was pretty much a wash, I wandered around the con by myself for once, got hit on (which, when working on your fourth day of what we fondly refer to as "Con-face" (ie, you look like shit from running four days straight) I consider it a win), and went to a panel full of published fan-fiction writers (or something). The trip back with Carrie was fun as always, much Muse was listened to.
and now I come home to Christopher Eccleston on the TV...winner.
Home again home again
This week was...well it was pretty much awesome.
Wednesday was the Muse concert, I've already spazzed over that.
Thursday around noon teh Seansington and Dr. Alex came and picked me up and we made our way to San Diego, the last half of the trip spent listening to Dr. Who books on tape offa my ipid. We got our badges, wandered around a bit and then went back to the hotel (La Pensione) wherein we all piled into Sean and Alex's room until I got tired and trudged back to my room where, try as I might, I couldn't fall asleep.
I ended up staying up til 5AM....the next thing I know, it's morning and Sean is calling at 7am. I think I might have sworn at him and hung up, but then I got another call at 8:30, gave up and got up to get ready for the day. Sean and I wandered around Littly Italy, where our hotel was located and speculated on us becoming crochety old people while we were sitting on a bench by a fountain. We figure Sean is going to be one of those old men with the crazy overgrown houses who gives kids candy. I made up a new game, wherein every time you see a Cosplayer who, by rights, shouldn't be wearing whatever costume they're concoted, or hell, even the ones that look really good, you scream (out loud or in your head, as you wish) "Whoa! Transvestite!" It makes everything just that. much. funnier. Much con was had, free shit, drawings, penny arcade and all. All this crap, all those people, all the things I saw, did and got and the higlights of the con was this stupid little button I found at the Dumbrella booth. I saw it and squealed and grabbed it and demanded to know where it had come from. Because it was a mother fucking REBOOT button! If you don't know what Reboot is you're so missing out. It's my favorite souvenir from the Con. Anyway, turns out the dude didn't know where it was from, or who it belonged to, so he said I could have it if I wanted. We did the World's worst cartoons, which was hilarious and Spike and Mike's Sick & Twisted, which was ...actually sort of mentally scarring, thinking back on it.
Saturday and Adam joins the party and we wander him around for his first con experience. It was funny, he bought alot of pro-communism stuff and Carrie screamed "capitalist!" at him every so often. Stuff happened. Saw the Nerf Herder...sort of. Much useless shit was bought. Then plans were made to go drinking.
Oh, and the drinking that was had.
Saturday night we went drinking with the Dumbrella kids, Tycho from Penny Arcade, the Dumbrella Monkey known as Dave and a buttload of other people I couldn't possibly name. We were given dumb directions to the bar at the Westgate Hotel, a place you would only be able to find if you knew it was there. Therein we met the bartender. A tiny swiss man known only as Alfred. God's own bartender. This man was tiny and amazing and could make you a drink even if you didn't know what the hell you wanted. Give him an ingrediant, flavour, hell, probably even a TEXTURE and he had a drink for you. I asked for a drink that tasted like an alcoholic shirley temple and he made me a drink that tasted like someone had spiked the hawaiian punch at a 5-year olds birthday party. After drinking we staggered back to the hotel like the drunks we are and collapsed into bed.
Sunday was pretty much a wash, I wandered around the con by myself for once, got hit on (which, when working on your fourth day of what we fondly refer to as "Con-face" (ie, you look like shit from running four days straight) I consider it a win), and went to a panel full of published fan-fiction writers (or something). The trip back with Carrie was fun as always, much Muse was listened to.
and now I come home to Christopher Eccleston on the TV...winner.