Sunday, February 25, 2007

Pictures at an Exposition: A Comic Con Pictorial

Each year tens of thousands of socially inept geeks descend on New York as part of the cultural phenomenon known as New York Comic Con.

In my ongoing quest to provide my readers with the latest in hard hitting photo journalism, I trekked to the world renowned Jacob Javits Center. It was here that I descended deep into the shadowy realm of the comic book underworld. My quest on this outing was simple. I must get my picture taken with as many tools -I mean, as many comic enthusiasts as possible. I'm proud to say that I was able to score quite the collection. I have reviewed them all and proudly present my finest works. So please, sit back, relax and enjoy, as I present:

Pictures at an Exposition: A Comic Con Pictorial

As I began my journey to capture unique (read:odd) costumed characters, I encountered this fellow. I asked for a picture and he gladly complied. Following the picture, he says to me, "So what's happening tonight?" "Uh, nothing, just enjoying the show," I replied. "Really? Well, what're we going to do tonight? Bang some chicks? Huh? Huh? Huh?" He then started squeezing his plastic hamburger in my face. It was at this point that I ran away.

As I casually strolled the trade show floor, this little bastard ran up on me, stabbed me in the neck and said, "Who's your daddy?" While nursing my flesh wound, I informed him that I felt it inappropriate to ask people who their fathers were. This made the poor little bugger cry. I felt bad for a little bad for him, so I gave him a piggy back ride for about a half an hour. Ultimately, I think it made him feel better.

As I continued my exploration of the comic scene, I came across this little vixen. Evidently, she was recruiting for a group of Jedi's known as the 501st Legion. Well let me tell you, we really hit it off. A little bit of my suave banter and the next thing I know, she invites me back to her "space cruiser." Her "space cruiser," it turns out, was a janitorial closet, but I'm not picky. Suffice it to say she was the sweetest lover I have ever known. No, really, her head was covered in powdered sugar. But seriously, folks....

One of the incredibly cool parts about Comic Con was the opportunity to see all of your favorite superheros and meet new ones. Superheros like the one pictured here, THE REDECORATOR. His super power is the uncanny ability to match fabric swatches, paint colors, and furniture to create home decor that is OUT OF THIS WORLD!

Haven't you ever wanted to punch a stuffed creature? I know I have. I don't really care for stuffed creatures. I feel like they are close relatives of the clown family -and we all know how I feel about that. Also, I know that the person inside the stuffed suit wouldn't feel it, so really, it is kind of a victimless crime.

As I looked around, everyone seemed to be surrendering to their impulses. Why couldn't I? The temptation of my overactive inner-monologue was simply too great to resist. Without warning, I released a fiery series of reverse punches (yeah, I have those skills, I took karate in 3rd grade) focused right into the taupe target centered on his chest. The impact of these skillful, lightning reverse punches, sent this creature reeling to the floor like a flipped turtle. "I RULE!" I proclaimed. Satisfied, I moved on to play Dance, Dance Revolution: Universe.

The afternoon was progressing quite nicely and really started to feel that I had become one with those in attendance. So when it came time to approach this rather husky Jedi for a picture, I did so with certain abandon. As soon as I raised my arm to give the "thumbs up" sign, this fucker goes and burns me with his light saber. I mean really! As I write this, I'm nursing 2nd & 3rd degree burns. Perhaps most importantly, I'm nursing a serious distrust of Jedi's, and no one should ever have to go through that pain.

While I am really proud of the scope of this work, I must be entirely honest. There was an exceptionally dischevled Captain America, that I had hoped to make my piece de resistance. Despite several unsuccessful attempts to capture him, I regret to say that he eluded me. And for that, I am truly sorry. There's always next year, I suppose. Until then, live long and prosper.

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