New York Comic Con 2011

No words this time; all video. Save your reading glasses the wear and tear.

Once again, courtesy of Joseph Ammendolea.

Review of 2010 Comic Con

[Note from Dave: The following review of the 2010 Comic Con was written by comic book affectionado and professional bullfight-watcher Joseph Ammendolea. I didn't really read it, but he told me it was quite lovely.] 

It’s October 2011 in New York City everyone is hitting up the local costume shop not for Halloween but for NY Comic Con held at the Javits Center. Some say this lovely little gathering brings together all the nerds of the metropolis who cannot afford a plane ticket to San Diego.  That was perhaps true during its inaugural run in 2006 but in fact NY Comic Con has now become one of the largest conventions in New York City. This for-profit convention is so popular it almost justifies my pale complexion and lack of planned activities on Friday nights.

Let's Not Talk About Video Games

I am a misunderstood individual.  In the universal rankings of everything and everyone that's popular for being highly misunderstood, I'd fall somewhere between "crop circles" and "female emotions".

Why exactly am I calling myself misunderstood?  Well it begins with a little confession.  I enjoy video games.  Not as much as your average "hardcore gamer" but a little more than those who are nagging me to help them plant digital plants in Farmville.

The Dumpster Never Lets Me Have Any Fun

Sometime in the early part of the 20th century, an exciting new fad was sweeping the nation.  Garbage dumpsters, inexplicably, became THE place to hang out.  College kids would gather around these smelly trash receptacle, climb upon it without regard for their safety or zoot suits, and dance the Charleston until the wee hours of the morning.  Some of the more crazy thrill-seekers would even hang out inside the dumpster to discuss politics, study for exams or make sweet, sweet love to spoiled refuge.

Rocking and Bowling Don't Mix

I know I'm about to pour steak sauce on someone's sacred cow, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to officially declare the practice of  "Rock-N-Bowl" an abomination.   I go bowling to have a few drinks with the guys while hurling large, heavy balls at a target 62 feet away.  I am not looking to get all glittered-up while dropping ecstasy in some glow-in-the-dark environment.