Comic-Con Parties Are Where Nerds Go to Feel Sexy
When I first heard about this thing called “Comic-Con” many years ago, I was told that it wasn’t just a great place to get back issues of The Amazing Spider-Man. It was also a nexus for the entire sci-fi/fantasy nerd culture. San Diego was one of the few places where a nerd could comfortably walk around town dressed like Mr. Spock without someone asking you where your spaceship was parked. Fuck those people, because you don’t park spaceships. Everyone knows that! Duh.
You can still dress up, but Comic-Con isn’t as much about that misfit community as much as it’s a five-day costumed orgy, sort of like Eyes Wide Shut, but with everyone dressed like Harry Potter, Luke Skywalker, or the legendary character, Mexican Goth Batman.

People are constantly feeding me drinks, trying to get me to take mystery pills, and pitching me their screenplay ideas. It’s like Los Angeles got in the car with me and came to San Diego. Unfortunately, Los Angeles never pays for gas and is always making me pull over for snacks like I’m made of money or something.

Comic-Con parties have hot go-go dancers, open bars, and the faint, pungent scent of sexual despertation; an odor I know too well. Actually, the name of the cologne I was wearing last night is “Sexual Desperation.” It’s a combination of fish oil and vanilla extract, which is just the kind of signature scent I’m looking for.
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Comic-Con Parties Are Where Nerds Go to Feel Sexy

When I first heard about this thing called “Comic-Con” many years ago, I was told that it wasn’t just a great place to get back issues of The Amazing Spider-Man. It was also a nexus for the entire sci-fi/fantasy nerd culture. San Diego was one of the few places where a nerd could comfortably walk around town dressed like Mr. Spock without someone asking you where your spaceship was parked. Fuck those people, because you don’t park spaceships. Everyone knows that! Duh.

You can still dress up, but Comic-Con isn’t as much about that misfit community as much as it’s a five-day costumed orgy, sort of like Eyes Wide Shut, but with everyone dressed like Harry Potter, Luke Skywalker, or the legendary character, Mexican Goth Batman.

People are constantly feeding me drinks, trying to get me to take mystery pills, and pitching me their screenplay ideas. It’s like Los Angeles got in the car with me and came to San Diego. Unfortunately, Los Angeles never pays for gas and is always making me pull over for snacks like I’m made of money or something.

Comic-Con parties have hot go-go dancers, open bars, and the faint, pungent scent of sexual despertation; an odor I know too well. Actually, the name of the cologne I was wearing last night is “Sexual Desperation.” It’s a combination of fish oil and vanilla extract, which is just the kind of signature scent I’m looking for.

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Notes:

  1. ky-lanakogee reblogged this from vicemag
  2. fairandheightfiveeight reblogged this from daveschilling and added:
    Dave Schilling is both a marvelous work and a wonder… ;)
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  9. englishcolony said: fyi; blue alien with red drinks is Samara from Mass Effect
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