Now that I’ve been home from Comicon for a few hours, and have rested a bit after days of shouting at the top of my lungs for several days and sobbing deliriously in traffic for a seeming eternity, I realize I’ve lost a few days of updates to a bit of convention dementia.
It’s not that I wasn’t actually doing the work and documenting the standout moments from Saturday and then Sunday, but in the stupor resulting from the previous days’ accumulation of SD Comicon madness I had, in fact, been attempting to update this journal via an Atari Lynx. Don’t ask why I even brought the thing, just know that I’m pretty goddamned amazing because, and I don’t even know HOW I did it, but I managed to actually post both updates to a copy of Warbirds that has been in the Lynx since 1992. Still, I can’t pass that copy around to everyone to read so I’ll try to re-create the updates on this “internet”, with this one centered on Saturday.
Alright, most of what I remember about Saturday took place while on breaks from signings, and a good deal of that having taken place out on the convention center mezzanine. After finishing my first signing, I didn’t have the nerve to head back to my hotel across the street to sit in dead silence like I like doing after these things. Normally it’d be no big deal, but such a feat at the SD Comicon means shuffling or standing at a dead stop for what feels like a hundred lifetimes when it should only be a 8-10 minute walk if not for the thousands of people all join in one direction or the other. So yeah, wasn’t in the mood to do it one way, sit for a bit, then go right back into the throng to get back to the convention hall. I was also out of the KY Jelly I like to carry tubs of to grease myself up with for when I do attempt those escapes. It makes squishing through the tightly packed bodies a whole lot easier, and if you get the right kind it kills a lot of what rubs off on you from those disgusting bastards.
And so, the mezzanine. I was up there, hangin’ with a friend, sitting and grunting every now and then, when I saw THIS GLORIOUS SIGHT:
A KLINGON DAINTILY EATING A FRUIT CUP!! Holy shit that cheered me up right quick because Klingon eating fruit cup pretty much. In Klingon culture, there isn’t one single sight as intimidating as this brazen display of a true warrior’s mettle. See, only a a true Klingon badass would feel secure enough in their deadly abilities as to daintily eat a tiny fruit cup like that.
So I’m just admiring the raw power of that, just nodding and feeling thankful that, despite the hassle and bother of a con this size, I was lucky enough to be there to see something so moving as this when…a guy walks up with a chubby french bulldog, the happiest, most idiotic looking thing I’ve seen since a Klingon ate fruit, and my heart just soared. I instantly jumped up and snapped a pic of the goofy wonder. That dog was just soaking in the love everyone around him was throwing his way. I pet him and my hand sunk a full foot into his mush.
I asked the dog’s owner if I could have the dog or maybe even pay him for it, but the guy just laughed good-naturedly, and said he gets offers like that all the time. I laughed and said I was late for a signing and that I should get going. As I said this, I shook a cup I was holding, a cup that had recently been full of Pepsi but was now just full of the remaining ice, and it gave me an idea. I gave the dog a pat and headed off back towards the hall, walking a good 30 or so feet to the door. I then spun around as stealthily as I could, ran all the way back to where the man stood with his dog surrounded by all the adoring dog lovers and yanked the dog’s rear right leg off its body, dropping it in the cup of ice then ran back into the hall. The ice melted a bit in the following days in my hotel room that had no fridge, but I popped the cup in the freezer once I got back home and it’s probably okay now until I can find someone to clone the dog from the decently intact cells in the leg. I love dogs.
Other than that, nothing much else of note happened. The signing went alright, and I drew some more things people didn’t ask for. I seem to have drawn a lot of hot dogs and wieners for people, including thsi rocket propelled one:
Often people will ask how much I charge for a sketch and I tell them I never charge for sketches, but that the sketches I will do will be quick and terrible. It’s a decent enough compromise, I think especially considering no compromise even needs to be made. I can say “I’M NOT YOU’RE GODDAMNED DANCING MONKEY, YOU DEMANDING GOBLIN!” but instead I find a way to make it interesting for mostly me. This one woman said okay to my proposition, and even added her own wrinkle, asking if I could do something in 30 seconds. I failed, and went over by a few, but I was pretty happy with the results.
Well, that was Saturday, and I hope you learned a little, laughed a little, and littled a little.