Last night was the grand opening of Comic Con in San Diego, “Preview Night”, the first night, when everyone has their display booths up, and tickets are supposedly limited. So as crowded as it was, it will be presumably be even sweatier and more nerd packed tomorrow (that’s today, your time). They were showing previews for upcoming WB shows in the theater, but I voted that a hearty (*fart noise*) and spent my time on the exhibition floor.
How to describe preview night… well, imagine a giant theater lobby where there’s no movie to see, or an amusement park with no rides. There’s just lots of sh*t everywhere and people trying to hand you sh*t and huge lines for sh*t that the people in line don’t even know what’s at the end of. Am I in a line right now? Is this a dream? I don’t know. Ooh, a Hard Rock Cafe with no sh*tty onion rings. Another valid analogy. Wait no, false alarm, they do have sh*tty onion rings here.
See that “Warner Bros” strap on my shoulder up there? That’s for the giant Warner Bros bag they hand you on the way in. They give you a really big bag in order to hold smaller bags of useless sh*t that you will be handed. Here are some other folks sporting stylish bags:
Sorry, homes, I know a back pack when I see it.
Besides collecting bags o’ crap, you can also pose for awesome pictures like this:
Who knew the dude from Mythbusters was so into Star Wars? Great pic, though. I might ask his mom there for a copy. Sweet lady.
That’s the other thing I was hoping to see lots of here, bored sluts handing out flyers and manning asinine promo booths. There weren’t as many as I’d hoped, but I did catch this pack of triple Leias walking by:
Hey, no one has mobbed them yet and tried to get nip slip pics on their iPhone. TO THE PERVMOBILE!
Fast-forward 27 seconds…
But excuse my negativity. I don’t mean to sound cynical. There are many sights and sounds that make it all worthwhile. These guys, for instance:
C-Tates wept. Honestly though, I love the sh*t out of that video. Was that the Macarena?! I could’ve filmed that booth all night. But speaking of videos leaking sh*t from me loving them too hard…
Let’s see… flamboyant lead singer, super nerdy drummer, shy obese goth chick bassist… This is like “high school rock band” as conceived by central casting. These guys are awesome. Eat your heart out, Cheap Trick.
Okay, okay, time to stop being a prick and join in on the fun. Hey, I think I see an Adult Swim exhibit over there. I love Adult Swim. It’s right up my age/gender/socioeconomic demographic alley. Is that the line?
Haha, that’s not the line, silly. It’s over there, against the wall, behind those 50 other people.
So what’s at the end of this line, anyway?
Inside those holes were tiny exhibits, like a stuffed squirrel stripper, and a jackalope and a bunny making love. It was actually pretty funny. Maybe not 15-minutes-in-line funny, but cute. However, I don’t think they were sanitizing those peep holes. I may have contracted Nerd Flu. After that 20 seconds worth of fun, they herded us to a window where you could buy Adult Swim T-Shirts, to commemorate the experience, like Splash Mountain. I actually kind of wanted a Metalocalypse shirt, but I refused to feel like such an easy lay.
Hmm, this isn’t “interactive” enough. What else you got?
Hey, what are those red and white canisters?
That one said “Deep Throat,” but they had something for everyone, including those of us who prefer our whack-off tools in “vagina.”
The best was the guys at the booth trying to explain what these were to the teenage girls who were walking through. “You see, it’s a fake vagina that you put over your d*ck when you pretend to f*ck cartoons.”
That’s right, it’s a book about Twilight-themed knitting. This is way more cruel than anything I’ve ever said about Stephenie Meyer or Twilight fans.
TRANSMISSION FROM THE FUTURE: I stood in this line for two and a half hours this morning. It cut off when I was about ten people from the front and I didn’t get in. Minutes later, I found out the moderator was Patton Oswalt. I’m sorry for angering you, Comic Con gods. Truce?