The one thing I came back from Otakon with is that the Bubblegum Crisis 2040 boxed set art is sexy. I mean, it's sexy enough that I'd consider buying it and I already own the whole damn series. We're talking "menstrate and leave a party with a jacket around your waist" sexy. This is the kind of sexy that can only come from a series chocked to the brim with two very key things : Punk girls and lesbians. Which reminds me of how I need to rewatch Bubblegum Crisis and rewrite the reviews for it so I don't sound like a total retard. But we'll save that for a later day. Anyone who reads this, please don't read those reviews until they're reupdated because they're fucking atrocious. My only excuse is that I used to write reviews at 8:00 am after three hours of sleep. And of course I never bothered to even spell check them.

But what about Otakon? Well, I have to say I was a bit hesitant...and while Skabs holds to the fact that he never lied to me, I distinctly remember him telling me that Jerry was going, and then Jerry telling me that Skabs told him -I- was going and something seems a bit weird about that. So goodbye 100+ dollars and hello Baltimore! And why exactly did I agree to this trip in the first place? I wanted to eat some crab. Fuck that, I wanted to GORGE myself on anything that was even remotely connected to the sea (crusty old fisherman excluded). Want to know how much I ate during the weekend? That's right, none. Not a single damn shrimp. I didn't even get a fish sandwich at BURGER KING. But it's all good. Sure, Subway's great and all but I $60 in my pocket and I wasn't planning on spending it on anime.

And I didn't spend it on anime, mostly because I didn't get a chance to bribe the girl at the Suncoast booth to let me steal their giant Bubblegum Crisis 2040 standup. The dealer's room was full of memories, but none quite as special to me as seeing the group of six Lulu cosplayers. One of which was a woman, none of whom were attractive. To me, a lot of Otakon was like hanging out with a bunch of pre-op transexuals, they were just trying to get the clothes down before they got their bits and pieces rearranged.

Now that's not to say there weren't some hot cosplayers there, but they were few and far between. And I'm pretty sure a lot of them were sixteen years or younger. A cool and casual "Wooord." goes out to the Utena cosplayer we saw on the first day and the Chocolate Misu one I busted a nut over but didn't get a picture of because fucking Skabs takes like an hour and a half to be convinced to give me his camera. Also, I gotta give props to the girl in the bowser costume who was nice enough to put her helmet thing back on so I could take a picture of her...feet. I'm not exactly sure how digital cameras work yet, I just push the button okay?

Otakon was filled with piping hot good times both in the covention center and out. Who could forget the fansubber party we went to, for example? I can't think of a dorkier group of people getting drunk...it just doesn't make any sense. We actually were approached and told "if we weren't going to talk about anime or fansubbing then we'd have to leave." Those guys were a group of...man, I don't even know. But Jerry and Sean were sure to hide in the bathroom and down a whole bunch of liquor before coming back to the room. At which point everyone but me promptly went to sleep. I stayed up watching some HBO movie about James Garner and a fucking hot ass deaf chick it ends and everything's all happy, at which point I try to settle into my comfortable spot on the FLOOR for some sleep. Only problem is about ten minutes into it I hear this sound that's kinda like "Uuuuuaaah. Uuuuuuaaah." And I'm like "What the -fuck- is that?!" It sounded like someone throwing up, but only very vaguely. So I kinda put it off to me being asleep or something. But then I hear the sound of someone spitting and I call out "Jerry? Sean?". By now I'm really fucking freaking out so I go over to the other side of the room to check. Sometime during the night Sean has thrown himself out of the chair he was sleeping in and now lies facedown on the floor and Jerry's sleeping nearby. I don't see anything that looks like throw up so I figure I just imagined the whole thing and try to get to sleep. Then every few minutes of hear the -wham- of what could only be the contact between the metal of the air conditioner and Jerry's SKULL. So I'm just like "What the -fuck- is going on over there?" But I'm not gonna wake anyone up or roll them over, despite the fact that I'm scared someone's gonna die and I'm gonna take the rap for it, I don't want to be called gay or something. I weighed my options and made my decision. All I know is that it wasn't ME that woke up in a pile of throw up. Take it Jerry!

And what about all the time I spent in the artist room? Though I worked my ass off making a sign of out 22 Post-It notes nobody commisioned a drawing from me. I think my price of "Boobies or 80's robot anime" was quite acceptable, and I was willing to negotiate! So I did the only thing I could be expected to do. Sunday I kicked it up into high gear by making ANOTHER sign in addition to remaking my original one and I took Jon Skabla's hat. If that battered white cap doesn't scream artist I don't know what does. But still, no luck for me and I was banished to going to company panels all day -again-, missing out on some fine antics in the process.

So Jerry threw up, Skabs made me take pictures of weird girls, Joel played a bunch of video games, I went to a bunch of boring panels, and I don't know what the hell Sean did. Though I did manage to screw up his order at Burger King. Somehow a supersized #1 with sprite turned into a like a chicken sandwich meal with a coke. I don't know, he shouldn't have given me the money.