1. My cousin wanted me to buy him one of the STAR WARS statues they were selling only at the Gentle Giant booth. In fact, he wanted me to buy him two. But I hadn't counted on how in demand (or how limited) these darn statues would be, and day after day, I stood in line only to have them sell out, or wasn't allowed in the line at all.
On the last day, after calling my cousin to tell him I hadn't been able to get his two statues (I had to leave a message, as he was at church. I know because he sent me a text message from there an hour later), I decided to really try my hardest, trying to get a statue voucher as soon as I arrived (I failed), then lining up as soon as they said people could. The queue was long and slow-moving, so I spent the next two hours listening to people tell me about the panels they'd gone to and the adventures they'd had. After a while and without a word, the man directly in front of me suddenly stepped out of the line and walked away. I thought that was odd, since he'd just wasted half his morning with us . . . and then I smelled it.
The man had farted, and very badly. Rather than stew in it, or draw our ire, he just took off, never to return.
2. In the same line, but on a different day, I encountered a very angry guy. He had gone to the Jessica Alba panel (I don't even recall what she was promoting; maybe GOOD LUCK CHUCK) and a very lucky few got tickets for a brief signing. He wasn't one of them. He had gone to one of the organisers and demanded he be allowed to go to the signing because he had been a New York City firefighter on September 11th. For some reason, the unAmerican bastages didn't feel that he deserved special treatment because of that. So, for ten minutes, I got to hear him complain about it, and tell us what it was like to pull bodies out of the remains of the World Trade Center. When I couldn't stand to hear anymore, I leaned in and muttered, "Dude, that should've entitled you to SLEEP with Jessica Alba, let alone get her autograph." Not missing a beat, the fireman told me that in the days following the 2001 terrorist attacks, his experience had indeed gotten him laid a multitude of times.
Poor guy.
3. I usually check Kevin Smith out at a panel or Q&A once a year and go to see him at his Secret Stash store almost that often. But not anymore. But it is still grand to see him work a crowd and make two or three hours fly by. He showed the pilot of "Reaper" which he directed, and brought out some of the cast and crew. I was surprised to see him really tear into a heckler at his Q&A, because although it was funny, he mercilessly pounded this guy into the ground until he left the building to lay down in traffic.*
4. On Sunday, they were giving away INDIANA JONES IV posters, and I took two. They were also giving away t-shirts to Paramount projects, like BEOWULF, STAR TREK XI, and INDY 4, but you had to go elsewhere to get a voucher for one, and when you went elsewhere there was a--guess what?--line to get one. And that line was capped the three times I went over, so I ended up hitting the Paramount booth several times that day. I felt a little guilty taking an INDY 4 poster everytime I went, until I saw a big fat bald guy grab them all. I shit you not, boys and girls, he grabbed a stack of sixty or seventy posters, so thick he had to double it over his forearm to carry it, and walked out. This guy, my friend, is what's wrong with people. And it's precisely the reason a hundred late-arriving Indy Jones fans didn't get a poster (and will be picking theirs up on eBay, preferably from me instead of him).
5. I had a fifth story all figured out, but now I don't remember what it was. Never get old, kids.
Rish Out-something
*Basically, the guy got up and said, "When are you going to make a movie that isn't either just a retread of the same stupid characters or doesn't totally suck?" The audience booed, and Kevin smirked and said, "No, no, that's a good question. And I really am going to get to that . . . just as soon as I pull my dick out of your mom's ass." But then he just wailed on the guy, going on and on, until he walked down the aisles, flipping Kev the bird, and left Hall H.
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