—I made some money.
—I’m relishing the end of three days of being perky and agreeable. And the end of pretending that I understand how there can be a market for the crap I was selling. (Full Moon Pictures: shlock horror and soft porn.)
—I didn’t get to see much of the rest of the con. I saw a few booths, but there was no time to do serious searches through racks of posters and boxes of comics.
—I did, however, get a dagger for my rituals, some new Acme Novelty Comics, and Kyle and Stan to complete my South Park quartet.
—There were also very few guests that I was interested in. But I did meet Peter Bagge for the second time. (Hate comics:Fantagraphics.) He is utterly cool, and really gives the lie to the stereotype of comic artists being unkempt, socially awkward fanatics.
—We also saw two people we’d lost touch with; a guy who had moved away, and another guy whom we were too ashamed to call after he found out that we’d been part of a group at the Phantom Menace premiere and hadn’t included him.
—Now I have plantarfacatis (sp?) Anyway, my right arch is apparently torn. My elf boots–specially constructed high heeled boots–fell apart a few months ago, and I have been unable to find a replacement pair. (All I see in stores are those thick-soled boots that I call “rape-victim shoes”, because you can’t run in them, or even walk gracefully.) I had to stand on a concrete floor in flat shoes for nine hours a day, give or take, and my arches finally had enough.
—Mr. Rilch is the worst backseat driver there is. I’m not joking about this. When he’s driving, if he needs me to be quiet so he can concentrate on the road, he only has to tell me once. He starts yapping at me, then yaps some more about how erratic my driving is because of his yapping, then tells me he’ll shut up as soon as my driving smooths out. This has got to cease.
—I got a free pin from Bongo Comics (Simpsons) of the comic store guy saying, “I’ve wasted my life.”
—Saw a LOT of cool t-shirts and costumes. There was a guy dressed as Austin Powers, and an unusual number of Klingons for a non-Trek con. Also a lot of Phantom Menace costume; all well made, including two female Jedi.
—Spooky moment: Skinhead with a beard asks me about a poster with the movie title “The Dead Hate the Living”. I explain that it’s an upcoming production that Full Moon hopes will become a series. He says, “It’s true, you know. The dead do hate the living.”
Remember, I’m pulling for you; we’re all in this together.