Busy day on the convention floor of Comic-Con International 2008 snapping pictures of costumes and other goodies I’ll post to my Flickr photostream and subsequent posts.
Me: “Hey, could I get your picture?” Girl #1: “Sure, should we, like, hang ourselves on you or something?” Me: “No, standing over there will be just fine.”
Her: “Do you want the front or the back.” Me: “I’m trying to remember the last time someone asked me that.” Her, after a few seconds of reflection: “Oh… ha!”
Bondage fairy. No shit.
Creepy contest: Geriatric Superman vs. Evil Vampire Elf(?).
The second guy I’ve ever met who enjoyed Orgazmo.
Bizarro Star Wars: Vader with a beer belly and Annakin Skywalker with a vagina.
This girl knows that guns and boobs sell tickets. I just don’t what show I’m seeing.
Go ahead and die if you’d like, Pikachu. I won’t mind. Adorable, yellow bastard.
I actually asked this guy dressed as Green Arrow how long it took to grow his beard out for the costume. Not realizing it was fake. Because I’m an idiot.
Tell me that doesn’t look like Avery Brooks. And, no, not all black people look alike to me. But all Canadians do sound alike, and I’m standing by that.
Man, this guy handing out fliers for Starship Troopers 3 is acting the shit out of this role. Watch your back, Casper Van Dien!
i’m sorry, what video game are you promoting, again? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your hypnotic boob domes.
Two options when you have red hair and boobs at Comic-Con: Jean Grey or Starfire.
She stared straight into my soul. And then tickled it with an electric cattle prod.
The only seven-foot-tall endomorphic Ghost Rider you’ll ever see. Guaranteed.
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