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04/12/2005: "Everything's Not Lost"

So for once I actually have post-its to go from in writing. That's good news for those of you who don't thing the news or crappy photoshop pictures are funny. Which they're not.

A week ago Lizz and I went to PlanetComiCon. In order for you to fully understand the nerdiness of that statement, you should know first that there are these things called conventions. Secondly you should know that conventions are massive dork fests. Thirdly, they are dork fests because they're started by big dorks who want to make money off of / have terribly nerdy conversations with other dorks.

To help you understand how lame this was, consider the following:
Lizz and I were trying to find the center where they were holding this thing. We'd been driving around for about half an hour looking, and I was almost out of gas, so we took one last stab and drove into the big parkinglot for this large unlabled building. We're pulling past the main entrance when a man walks out of the doors. He's about 5' 8", long hair on the sides, balding on top, kinda fat, Millenium Falcon under his right arm, a Transformer in his right. It was then that we knew we had arrived.

A secondary indicator was much more entertaining. We walked in and paid our money and got a little stamp on our hands and turned to enter the giant showroom. Just to the left of the door Lizz spotted some familiar faces. Seth Yockey and Thomas Thorpe. One of them had a Darth Vader voice-simulator helmet, the other stack of comicbooks. Somehow I wasn't suprised at all. They told us where the best stuff was and that Chewie was in there.

The main draw of this year's comicon was that the guy who played Chewbacca in Star Wars was going to be there signing autographs. I didn't have anything for him to sign, and neither did Lizz, and if I were him I'd be sick of signing things, so I didn't actually go up to meet him, but I did see him. He was really big, and kinda scary-looking, but with a nice demeanor. Apparently some guy asked if the C-3PO on his back in Empire was actually Anthony Daniels or a pupet, and he got suprisingly peeved. Thomas told us not to ask him again, lest we get killed.

So we go in and start to just browse the stuff. And believe me, there was good stuff. I was very, very happy I hadn't brought hardly any cash with me, because I wouldn't have come out with it. Why? One word: Transformers. Not just any regular ones though, the original series from the 1980's. Allow me to reiterate: Toys... from the 80's. Two of my favorite things EVER, for the low low price of like... 40 dollars. Lizz would have been powerless to stop me, so again it's good that I had very little money. Also, there was lots of Star Wars stuff. Vintage and new. Best thing I saw: A real-live Scout Trooper uniform that could actually be worn. Worst thing: Bootleg copies of the Ewok films. (I was going to provide a wikipedia link to page about the Ewok movies... but all I could find was the lamest thing ever)

I eventually ended up buying Gambit comicbooks. He was my favorite X-Man, what with his laser cards and all. Turns out he was Lizz's favorite too. Small world, huh?

So that was our adventure to PlanetComiCon.
Part of me wants to go again;
another, slightly smaller part wants to curl up and die.

A few weeks ago Ethan and I went to get dinner at chubby's. He had pie, I had a burger. It was kinda fun. As we were sitting there a whole bunch of emergency vehicles flew by. It was midtown, so we didn't think much of it. The best part of the entire experiance was when Ethan put quarters into the jukebox thing. Last time we did this was during the summer, when we put on "Mandy" by Barry Manillow and ran out of the diner. This time we put on Elton John's "Pinball Wizard". That machine must have been broken, because the song came on SO crapping loud. We got weird looks, and frantically hit the "LO" button on the volume dial. It didn't work, and we couldn't stop laughing.

Later on we were walking out to the parking lot. En route, we went past a bunch of middle aged men, all in black jackets and turtlenecks. Previously, we'd been discussing the League of Extrordinary Hipsters, and decided that these men had founded the League of Extrordinary Homos. Brief chuckle. Audible gasp from Ethan. I turn to see what happens. From the car, we see the men exchanging prolonged hugs... and kisses. More laughing. Then crying. And crying for the rest of the car ride home. And then crying to sleep. And sniffles the next morning. It was terrible.

I'll bet you they didn't vote to protect marriage.
They probably voted to destroy it, and over throw the scared bond between and man and a woman all in the name of one person sharing love for another person regardless of how their genetalia developed. I bet that's it.

I was browsing the net the other day, and I came across deviantart.com. Note the lack of hyperlink. I don't really want you to go there. If you must, do so, but I'd advise against it. DeviantArt is like... this hip indie artsite where you post you pictures and poetry and stories and crap. Neat concept. Horrible execution. Think of it as one collective emo-kid-masturbation session. They all try and act tallented and gifted, and then they all tell eachother they are tallented and gifted. I for one and perfectly happy that I'm neither tallented nor gifted. It's mediocre pesons like myself that make actual tallented people (See: Bill Clinton, The Beatles, and Drew Barrymore) appear that much more awesome.

DeviantArt is a breedingground for poorly founded self-satisfaction and Sean Svadlenak is a card-carrying memeber of it. I'm all about the full disclosure, you know?

Speaking of Sean... funny story: We're tyring to get math homework done, and not doing very well at that. Sean puts this puzzle game thing on my calculator and tries to get a good highscore on it. I take a nap. When he finishes, he proclaimes: "I got such and such score on puzzle frenzy!" I roll over onto my backpack and grogilly reply: "Oh yeah? Well that's better than you did last night."

*crickets* *awkward silence*

I have no idea why I said that.
My thought process was virtually nil. I just... said it.

Prom was the other night. It was better than expected. Although the food sucked, and Hank almost passed out, and the music was terrible... it was still OK. Most of the usual suspects I typically hang out with were gone, so I got to spend time with a different mix of people. It was refreshing. Lizz and I played with the chairs at the prom place too. You could link them together into big rows.

At the end of prom we got presents. They were highball glasses. You drink hard liquior out of these things. I was nearly drunk on irony by the time Lizz and I got to the car. I guess they figured if we were going to get drunk, we might as well use a clean glass and avoid a rousing bout of hepatitus. Word from the wise: It doesn't work.

So Lizz and I went back to her house, and got through about 45 minutes of Spider-Man before a whild orgy of sex and pregnancy didn't happen and we both fell asleep. I woke up on a freight train outside Mexico City with plate sitting next to me. On it was a highball glass full of urine and a cyanide pill. Underneath it was a note from Lizz that said she'd run off with some man from a cookie factory and that it never would have worked out between us. I went to the conducter of the train and asked him where we were headed. He said to find the magic tad-pole. *poof*

That was actually a lie/dream. I woke up to Lizz poking me in the stomach. It was 10:30 AM, and I'd slept in my clothes. (It sure beats the freight train though... I'll tell you that much). After a shower and donut, we went to church. (That was the deal; I got to stay the night if I went to church the next morning) After church we decided we were hungry, and went to the grocery store. There they were grilling out, so we bought hot dogs and soda.

The only logical place to eat these things was So-Ko park. After eating our food there, Lizz and I walked around for a bit. We came to this bridge, and looked over the edge. In the shallow were tons of tad-poles. We watched the little buggers for a while before this group of children came along and started eyeing the tadpoles too. We soon learned of their intentions to capture one in a water bottle. Typically, this would have irked me, but I knew they didn't have a chance of hell of actually getting one, so I just sat back and watched.

The children were amazingly incompetant, but funny. Lizz and I helped them best we could, pointing to large schools of tadpoles, but the kids were to timid to just get in the water and grab them. Parker was the small boy, and Paige the older girl. Betty (not real name) was the other girl Parker's age. She was the one who figured out that a tadpoles head wouldn't fit into the water bottle, so she went to go get a gatorade bottle. Smart kid, right? Well it was one of the wimpy gatorage bottles the size of the little shampoos you get at hotels... so she wasn't that bright after all.

We eventually decided to leave, but I thought: Wouldn't it be amazing if Parker and Paige (and Betty, the little bitch who always ruins my alliterative fun) went on to catch a magical tadpole that wisked them away to a magical land where they didn't age and drank koolaid out of highball glasses? I think so. Later on they would join the train conducter from my dream/lie to go in search of the Saddest Puppy.

Upon finding Ethan Struby, the realize he is a fraud. He is neither sad, nor a puppy, but a mere shell of a human being after playing so many RPGs that he measures his success in HP and only dates women with 50+ experiance points. (If you're interested call XXX-XXXX and ask for RuneMstr816.) They then journeyed to a bad, bad land. DeviantArt was a world of great evil, full of sadness and too much self-appreciation. There, the discovered Sean Svadlenak. Though he was sad, he was not a puppy, so the search continued. Parker and Paige were last sighted at the edge of DeviantArt, near a banner ad for Goth Topic. Perhaps we'll pick their adventures back up later.

Today Lizz and I saw Fever Pitch and watched Soap Operas. It was kinda sad, but also the perfect ending to the perfect weekend to end probaby one of the worst weeks I've ever had. So I can't really complain. Maybe the next one will be better. Even if it's not by much, it'd still be some improvement. Lizz said my hair was growing back too, which is already a good start.

The cowboys know Everything's Not Lost
I suppose they're right. After all...

they're cowboys

P.S.: I'm hoping to get some new banners up. I'll work on witicisms for the next week or so. I know I've neglected the blog, but I feel like things are starting to pick back up, so I'll put in a little extra effort. Maybe.

Replies: 3 Buddies Neglected Their Oral Hygine

see you space cowboy.

Said [Stephan] on Tuesday, April 12th

so that whole convention thing, even though i hate to admit it, actually sounds pretty neat.

also: two years ago, they gave out tall shot glasses at prom. they tried to pull it off by saying they were "vases."

Said [emily] on Wednesday, April 13th

Tom, do you actually read comments? I keep expecting you do, but I think I asked that before and you didn't answer... however you planned on doing that..

I just went to a St. Louis convention called Kunicon. David Carradine (kill bill) was there, and apparently he got drunk and tried to punch a low level showbiz guy who dresses up as Squall from FF8 and plays the piano.

Said [josh] on Sunday, April 24th