thenationalcon.jpg

People I didn’t like: The dealer who got in your way and barked, “Excuse me, but I’ve got a trivia question for you!”. The art dealer I overheard loudly and insultingly taking a guy to task over the original art he was trying to sell:  “Take another look at your pages,  then come back and ask  me again how much you want for them.”  He actually laughed in the guy’s face. The guy at the booth with the plush toys strewn about the place like a kid’s bedroom who had no listed prices so he could jack them up if interest was shown in anything. Emily was interested in a small Wonder Woman beanbag toy but because it was “from the WB Store” he had to start a sales pitch spiel on it, with, of course, a boosted price for the piece of junk (Sarah knew it was worthless, because we threw a bunch of them out a while back because no one wanted them and they were worth jack turd on e-bay. The folks who didn’t realize they were scaring our daughter by trying too hard to talk to her. The people asking creators for sketches while said creators were standing in the aisle talking to their friends. Those two yelling  jagoffs in the bathroom.  The creepy guy with his sketchbook full of his characters, talking about nude versus clothed con sketches he was getting people to do (“Just make it sexy, you know, innovate!”. Ugh.) Myself for being there and forcing my child to endure some stuff Dante cut out of his book for being too “uncomfy”. All the bastards who seemed unaware that other people exist in the world, cannot hear the words “excuse me” or “watch your back, please”, and think backpacks are force fields that keep them safe from annoying people who dare to try to walk through an aisle. The Stormtroopers, who more and more have grown a sense of some sort of entitlement at these things to be in the way, walk in front of people, block not only aisles but the goddamned street outside the hotel, what do they think they are, security? They’re idiots in hard-plastic adult Underoos, fer chrissakes. Oh, and, finally  —

THAT FUCKING BIGMOUTH PARASITE IN THE GRAY T-SHIRT AND BASEBALL CAP WHO DIDN’T SHUT UP ONCE ALL DAY SATURDAY.

Evan Dorkin on how much he liked The National Convention.

via Live Journal

The Author

Stephen Schleicher

Stephen Schleicher

Stephen Schleicher began his career writing for the Digital Media Online community of sites, including Digital Producer and Creative Mac covering all aspects of the digital content creation industry. He then moved on to consumer technology, and began the Coolness Roundup podcast. A writing fool, Stephen has freelanced for Sci-Fi Channel's Technology Blog, and Gizmodo. Still longing for the good ol' days, Stephen launched Major Spoilers in July 2006, because he is a glutton for punishment.

You can follow him on Twitter @MajorSpoilers and tell him your darkest secrets...

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