Here’s my photo essay for Comic-Con Day 2. Yes, this post goes on forever and there are lots of pictures. Deal with it (*sunglasses*).
This day included more fun on the exhibition floor, and even though I waited in line for two hours and still missed a panel moderated by my hero, Patton Oswalt, it was mostly a good time, and I even made it into both the Children’s Hospital and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World panels (more on those later). And all I had to do was shed my inhibitions toward blatantly cutting in line. Suck on that, wheelchair kid! I got a wish you can make! (*grabs crotch*) Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself (ooh, “cutting in line,” “getting ahead of myself”; wordplay!). Oh, and for the record, I’m making a goofy face in that banner pic. But rest assured, I’m still pretty godd*mn goofy looking.
To the bat photos!
Almost more impressive than the costumes at Comic Con is the facial hair. As if I didn’t already have my inadequacies thrown in my face enough.
“I come all the way from monastery in Tibet to see my favorite hentai porn.”
But what was that I was saying about costumes? Right. This next guy was dressed as Darth Vader in a chef’s costume with Jar-Jar Binks’ head on a platter. (That’s right, a costume within a costume. *BRRAAAAAAHM*). As much as the “who here likes Star Wars!” pandering has gotten completely out of hand, this was pretty damn creative. I tried to get a picture of it, but I ended up snapping it just as he was taking off the mask to catch a breather:
So much pathos. Yet completely accidental. That was while I was upstairs waiting 20 minutes in line for a coffee cart that said “Starbucks.” I asked if they had regular coffee. “We have Americano, it’s better.” Uh, no. I need caffeine, lady, not a watered down espresso shot. Anyway, I got a lukewarm latte and headed out to the line at Hall H about two and a half hours before the Tron panel was supposed to start. Here’s just a small taste of what the line was like:
No exaggeration, I walked 20 minutes beyond this point before I got to the end of the line. No picture could accurately capture the scale of the line for the Tron panel. It was easily the longest line I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been outside your mom’s trailer. While I was there, a girl handed me this:
It’s a business card. With a movie title on it. That’s it. I don’t want to sound like hippie cat here, but if that’s not a complete waste of paper, I don’t know what is.
This is the back of the card. They leave it blank so you can use it to write down all the chicks’ phone numbers you’re going to get. “Hey, have you heard of Clash of the Titans? Close, personal friend of mine.”
Of course, standing in line isn’t a total waste, because you do get to walk by lots of people in costume. Here’s Kick-Ass:
I think it goes without saying that I could not stop staring at his package. Holy jeez, I wanted to poke it with a stick! On an unrelated note, that’s Videogum walking by behind him, which I didn’t notice when I was taking the picture (probably because I was staring at the guy’s wiener). Later, after neither of us got into the panel, we had a LAN party at Starbucks and compared inhalers.
What this next costume is escapes me but it looks familiar:
So if you know what it is, feel free to tell me what an idiot I am for not knowing. There’s a lot of that going on at Comic Con. I overheard a guy point to the giant He-Man display at the Mattel booth and ask his girlfriend if she knew who that was. “Uh… don’t tell me… is it… Thor?” HAHAHA, NO! IT’S HE-MAN, YOU STUPID B*TCH! Talk about a noob. Right, guys?
So on the way to Starbucks, I passed by the Black Beauty from Green Hornet. It sure had a black beauty in front of it (ZANGO!). And a white beauty, and an Asian beauty… hey, what is this, a stock photo catalog? And why do stock photos always hate Latinos?
A black, a white, and an Asian do not make a Latino, you know, just ask Tiger Woods.
Oh hey look, a Kenny Powers ad:
“Freakin’”? K F*cking P does not use the word “freakin,” so kiss my ass and suck my di– please turn over to side 2. Don’t try to trick people into thinking this isn’t an R-rated show, that’s the best thing about it.
Anyway, then I had lunch with ScreenJunkies and BreakHorror, and as we were leaving, the Hoff showed up on his party bus to Hassel us with his crappy music. OOGA CHAKA, OOGA CHAKA, OOGA OOGA OOGA… (still the best video of all time). I guess he’s promoting some show on A & E. A reality show? Sure. I don’t know. Look, I’m in, as long as I get to see this puffy dork try to eat more floorburgers.
I’ll say this for his party bus, though, the dancing girls had on some of the thinnest bathing suits I’ve ever seen. They looked painted on. I could see her nips from 30 feet away, even without my binoculars.
On the way back, I figured I should take more pictures of the Green Hornet girls.
I couldn’t get them all in the same shot, so I just chose the one with the biggest boobs. Seemed fair.
Back on the exhibition floor, we went straight for the Glee karaoke revolution. Because who wouldn”t want to sing karaoke to their personal TV in a room full of strangers?
Oh hey look, it’s an Asian lady. Singing karaoke. I never would’ve seen that coming.
After this, she did some karate, finished my math homework, and crashed her car, just to complete the stereotype. I kid, I kid. But seriously, if you can think of a joke that isn’t horribly racist, just put it here and pretend you never read that thing I said.
OMG! It’s Seth Rogen!
He was doing an interview for G4. I could’ve taken more pictures, but I figured it’d probably be easier for you to just watch G4.
Next we passed by the Star Trek autograph booth. I believe it was $20 or $30 for an autograph or picture. That black dude the back of whose head you see on the left of the frame is actually Levar Burton, aka Jordy, aka Reading Rainbow. The blur of grey hair to his right is Brent Spiner, aka Data, who’s actually a really good actor, and I don’t know why he doesn’t work more. Do I earn nerd points for having watched a sh*t ton of Star Trek The Next Generation? Or is it actually minus points that I like it more than the original?
Anyway, the reason this picture is so bad is that since they’re charging people for pictures, they can’t just give them away for free. How to accomplish that in the age of digital cameras? Why, a team of middle-aged women locking arms to form a human barricade, of course. That wouldn’t seem pathetic at all:
Here they are, yelling and pleading for people not to take pictures.
“This is an A-list autograph signing! [yes, she really said that] Please do not take pictures! Please!”
Or else what? The middle-aged lady brigade is gonna clothesline my sh*t? Anyway, it was sort of fun to defy their shrill pleas, but we eventually moved on. I didn’t want my mom’s friends to start badmouthing me on Facebook.
Oh hey look, another Leia:
She looks, uh… healthy. Luckily, that’s just how Professor Messenger Bag over there likes ‘em. Look at him puttin’ out the vibe. That’s a pro.
Oh my God, is that Bob the Angry Flower!? Hey, how come you don’t have a team of ladies shielding you from public view? It doesn’t seem right.
Next, we walked over to the Marvel area to see the giant Thor throne. Stan Lee happened to be sitting on the throne, which seemed fitting.
I don’t care how old he is, this guy could pull insane poontang here if he wanted to, I guarantee it. If I were him, I’d have a special booth just for gettin’ my old balls wet with groupie vag. I like to imagine them tearing off his toupé just at the moment of climax. Really I just wanted to plant that image in your head. (*BRAAAAAAAAAAHM*)
Hey, Pikachu, your friend’s hat’s about to fall off. Someone should warn her. Meanwhile, I think the guy’s costume on the far right of the frame craps on all of these.
Elsewhere, some costumes are legitimately scary:
Well, scary without the badge and swag bag. And smile. Sort of. …I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.
I’m not sure what this next guy is supposed to be either. Again, feel free to point it out and tell me what an idiot I am:
It added to the effect that he was like 6’6″. I also appreciate a doughy, pale dude who isn’t afraid to go shirtless. Reminds me of my mom.
Wait, nooooo!! Don’t do it, man!!
Sadly, immediately upon contact with his fragile skin, the sunlight incinerated him like a super vampire in Blade 2. This is his last known photograph. He will be missed. This photo essay is dedicated to his memory. Monday after the funeral service, we’ll be eating cold cuts in his mom’s basement. It’ll be like he never left.
[Here's some of ScreenJunkie's coverage. He actually got into the Tron panel.]
I want more like this!
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