I am not the nerd who stabbed the other nerd at comic-con 2010
Need further explanation? Well, fear not, because Daddy is here to quiet your poor, uniformed, far less dorky mind, my friend. I recently got back from my yearly Dork Bonanza in San Diego: Comic Con 2010, and per my usual, I had more fun than anyone has ever had before – and that includes Corey Feldman's night at the Playboy Mansion Halloween party in 1986 where he and Kiefer Sutherland double-teamed Miss June while under the influence of a cocktail consisting of cocaine, LSD, Bacardi and Tab.
As a brief aside, Brett and I came up with a way to make the two-on-one sexual position known colloquially as the ‘Eiffel Tower’ into a perfectly normal thing to do if you are a Trekie: touch hands in the ‘Live Long and Prosper’ manner. Think about it. It’ll make sense. If you don’t know what the Eiffel Tower is, don’t google it with children around or while at work - unless you actually work at the Eiffel Tower, because that'd be easy to explain.
Adam, Brett and I got down there on Monday, arriving in style on the world’s greatest airline, Virgin America. Kevin graced us with this “backwoods, folksy wisdom” (as Adam has taken to calling it when Kevin speaks) Wednesday night. Shenanigans started on the flight down, as indicated by this Youtube video. Needless to say, I was the primary target for most abuse. Nothing new there. Brett gave me one of the worst wedgies of my life on the second day, which resulted in him actually lifting me off the ground by my underwear. The taint-wound inflicted by this torture made walking, sitting, and just generally existing less than completely comfortable. I shall now summarize some of the abuse doled out in list form so as not to overwhelm my audience:
Adam filled my shoes full of peanuts.
A bartender doused Kevin’s hair with whipped cream.
Kevin took the whipped cream off his head and slapped it on my face.
Kevin took me to the ground with a Muay Thai kick – the CONCRETE ground.
I tried to steal everybody’s beers and run out of a gay bar’s patio. Adam caught me, choked me, caused me to drop the beers, the bottles broke, and I got 86’d.
Adam farted on my pillow.
Adam farted in a bar right when a cute girl was walking by.
Adam farted himself awake.
I put Adam’s new shirt – one of the ones he got at the Con - between my cheeks and took a picture.
I put Kevin’s towel between my cheeks and took a picture.
Brett draped Kevin’s towel over his boner and took a picture.
Let me take a break here to note that Kevin BROUGHT A TOWEL TO A HOTEL. He was like Crocodile Dundee going to Manhattan, or one of the Beverly Hillbillies. “Wow, shucks. Lookit all dem buildins, Pa!” Continuing…
Brett brought me a glass full of his pee at the Toranado bar (I did not fall for that).
I dipped my cock into his beer thereafter (He didn’t fall for that either; clearly he knew it was coming).
I climbed back over the wall of the back patio of the gay bar to get back in.
Adam was supposedly detained by the police (I think a cop just told him to go home and quit bothering him).
Brett got really lost and walked eight miles back to the hotel.
Brett chased Adam around with giant tent pitched in his underpants due to morning wood.
I kept getting into bed with Brett naked because it was funny. He didn’t mind after the first night.
We all ditched Kevin at the Hyatt.
Adam threw a piece of wrapped American cheese like a ninja star and hit Brett right in the eye with it. Brett forgot that Adam did it, and proceeded to blame me. Adam thought this was hysterical.
Brett kicked Adam into a urinal while he was peeing.
I took a naked picture of Adam in the shower with major shrinkage.
Adam ate cereal out of the hotel ice bucket, which he didn’t even bother to rinse, with a spoon made from a Redbull can that he cut in half.
Adam ran into the bathroom to poop while I was in the shower (this was WAY uncalled for).
On the night of Kevin’s arrival, Adam wrapped himself up in a bed-sheet toga and Brett put on his wrestling singlet bathing suit. They then met Kevin down at the lobby bar at about 0100 hours and – shockingly – were not served.
I did karaoke and have no idea what song I sang, but I’m told it was ‘It’s Raining Men.’
While staggering back from a bar, Kevin kept shoving me into cars that he thought had alarms. So I ran away. He tried to chase me and proceeded to trip over a curb and go FLYING through the air like a drunken, white-trash Superman.
I introduced myself to Brian Posehn and Wil Wheaton. Wil Wheaton seemed to be the only amused one.
We went to the Patton Oswalt show and bought posters. The next day, we went to the Dark Horse booth where Patton was signing his recently released Serenity comic. Brett asked Patton if he would take a photo. He agreed. The four of us morons then posed while Brett handed a very confused looking comedian his camera. Interestingly enough, Patton Oswalt took a great damn photo.
I know there’s much more, but my memory of the experience has grown hazy. I think this is in no small part due to the large amount of alcohol consumed during the week we were down there. I did however have the presence of mind to carry a notebook around with me so I could record some quote gems.
A hypothetical is posed: “If a tree slips you a roofie, and falls into your forest repeatedly until it covers you in sap…”
On masturbating with a penis tattoo: “Use a hot dog grip.”
Thank god nobody did this: “How funny would it be to poop in a condom and hit your buddy with it?”
Adam on hurting his own balls with his own hand: “It took me by surprise more than anything else.”
I don’t remember what the context was for this: “I like trannies.”
On doing something generally considered mean to a good friend in the name of comedy: “That’s what good people do!”
Brett after leaving the hotel room in two different Ramones-related items of apparel: “I hope people know I like the Ramones.”
Another late night conversation about relationships: “You only have so many hard-ons left in your body.”
Dan in response to Brett and Adam growing sick of me talking about Kevin’s forthcoming arrival: “He’s my friend, and I need somebody to hold the hot dog!”
Adam in a surprising moment of clarity: “Brett and I are interested in lesbians… because we kind of look like them.”
Kevin gets into bed with Adam late one night (Adam was gassy – shock!): “IT SMELLS LIKE PINKEYE IN HERE!”
Brett on fellow bar patrons: “Douchebags only come in one size – GIANT.”
Adam on the wonderful versatility of ferrets as pets: “They run sideways and, if you fall asleep on the floor, they climb up your pants.”
Kevin on my intelligence being mocked by Adam and Brett: “Ha ha! You’re New Kevin.”
Laura summarizing our Comic Con trip: “It’s basically four days of non-stop cock-blockage.”
As you can see, the annual Con trip was, per it’s usual, the best time ever. I can’t wait for next year. Hopefully Sam will join us and Adam will hit himself in the balls again. But, and I’ll say this now so there’s no question about it in 2011, if anyone poops in a condom they are no longer my friend. Sorry to be gross, but it wasn’t my idea. I won’t point fingers at who came up with that (Kevin).
This is the picture Patton Oswalt took.
Heh. Serves you right for putting peanuts in my shoes.
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