This was the best Comic-Con ever. Seriously! And I'm not just saying so because everyone else is. Here, see for yourself:
Shit like this happened every day I was there, folks. That wasn't even the weirdest thing that happened that night. You should have seen the other guy perform.
One morning I awoke and went onto the balcony of my luxurious hotel room only to find an eagle sitting atop the railing. The eagle took a steaming dump on the balcony and then flew away, soaring majestically between San Diego's skyscrapers.
Rich says that if you smear eagle poop on your face in a specific pattern you cannot be arrested for anything for one full day. I don't know if that is true but it might be worth looking into if you are planning to commit some crimes.
Thanks to everyone who was there for the most bizarre Saturday night on record, friends old and slightly newer, and especially to Alfred, who, as always, took a bunch of cartoonist nerds, got them drunk, and flung them into the Twilight Zone. There is a true Pub Stub, it is the nexus of all possible universes, and it is located in downtown San Diego.
Alfred in the flesh! Great picture.
I hope you didn't charge him for the glass.
Alfred received a largish care package with some original art soon to be en route to him.
There is nothing that I read of this night that does not end in me muttering goddammit.
The magic all happens, every Saturday night, at the Westgate Hotel Plaza Bar in downtown San Diego, CA. Karen Giorgio entertains along with surprise celebrities (even Albert comes in now and then). See Karen's website at www.KarenGiorgio.com.
