Real-life hentai just doesn't work.

Things I learned at the Calgary Comic Convention & Exposition:

1. So basically Comic Conventions are where comic nerds can get together in one big room and buy more comics and then meet some of the people who write the comics and then buy more comics so that the writers can sign the comics, and sometimes people dress up like their favourite comic book character but more importantly it's a chance for them to buy more comics that they already own.

2. Far too many people take Star Wars seriously.

3. There is nothing fun for 5-6 year-olds at the convention, and they will certainly let you know about it, unless you consider getting trampled by sweaty teenagers or sweaty thirty-year-olds looking for that one issue of Wolverine where Logan fights a stormtrooper, or the one where Spiderman shows up at the Calgary Stampede. Also: kids get sticky when you give them lollipops.

4. Obese people REALLY like diet soda, but it doesn't seem to be working.

5. You don't actually need to purchase tickets, as everyone's too busy paying attention to Tricia Helfer and wondering if she'd have hot Cylon robotic sex with them instead of verifying that you're supposed to be there.; honestly, we just walked right in, although the Ladyfriend is certain that this is due to everyone's fear of human interaction.

6. Mark Waid is really nice, Greg Rucka looks like he could kick your ass, and Bruce Timm's tan looks creepy (plus, charging $50 for a sketch seems a little steep)(I tried to find a picture online of Bruce Timm, but all I found was stuff like this, which is kinda funny considering I WASN'T looking for porn this time...).

7. Of course I'm going back next year.

In other news: Lars & The Real Girl made me all weepy, and my girlfriend laughed at me.

Justa letcha know: I used a bad word.

Right now the Ladyfriend and the Grumpy Bear are watching Paris Hilton getting stabbed to death in House of Wax, which is why I have the headphones on blasting Built To Spill as LOUD AS POSSIBLE, because, as Patton Oswalt says, "Paris Hilton is a cunt who should die of aids".

But what I really wanted to point your attention in the direction of like a giant gun that shoots alligators is this new poster for the new Batman movie which is TOTALLY gonna kick yer ass.

Yes, I am a nerd.

Now I must go make popcorn!

Four More Years!

So, the Ladyfriend and I are sitting somewhat entangled on the couch watching the Sci-Fi Channel's version of Dune (because she hasn't seen either version, and that's just plain wrong) when she turns to me to say, "I really hope Obama wins the election; it's just that I haven't felt this hopeful about a political figure in a long time, and I'm kinda interested in what he does."

Of course, I didn't have the heart to explain to her that it doesn't matter who wins, because the world is secretly run by a clandestine group of five Very Evil People (Dick Cheney, Rupert Murdoch, Martha Stewart, Oprah, and George Lucas) who meet under every full moon to stage dark rituals and plan the eventual subjugation of humankind, but even that doesn't matter because in four years the Mayans will miraculously step through their Time Portals to help us wage war against Cthulhu and his army of Deep Ones, but even that won't really matter because it's all simply voices arguing in the head of the emerging consciousness developing within the supercontext/universe that surrounds and pervades us as a species and which will ultimately wake up and wonder what the hell it was drinking last night to come up with a hallucination as weird as us.

This is what I get for reading Grant Morrison. I'm gonna go look at internet porn now, because my brain hurts from trying to decide things.

(In which Chris gets a tad carried away because it's obviously Metal Week...)

The Sword's new album, Gods Of The Earth, is great to listen to when you're fifteen minutes away from closing and you've spent the last three hours listening to the Falmes lose in a very spectacular way (yes, I know I misspelled 'Flames'; it's what they deserve, after tonight's performance...); it's also great to crank out when you've also had to put up with Yuppy McDouchebag and his six friends as they attempt to invent as many annoying laughs as they can in the hour-and-a-half that they spend at your place of work while taking up counter-space and generally acting like retards on lithium. It's great to listen to because it screams, "THE HOUR IS NIGH FOR YOU AND YOUR SOUL-PATCHES AND SOY SUGAR-FREE NON-COFFEE BEVERAGES TO FLEE, ELSE WE DESCEND UPON THEE WITH ALL MANNER OF SHARP THINGEES TO STAB THEE WITH!!! (please bring your dishes to the front counter) NOW, GET THEE HENCE FROM MY SIGHT, MAGGOT!!!! THE DARK LORD COMMANDS THEE!!!"

It's also great for, and I quote, "rocking out to", as long as one wears a helmet and protective goggles, as the song titles alone can cause much cranial damage due to Ultimate Awesomeness.

"But, Chris," you scoff, "I am a seasoned metal master! I have an Amulet of Protection forged by the banshee voice of Geddy Lee, and a +10 saving roll against Dire Finger-Tapping! I even own a Sunn O))) album! Surely I have nothing to fear!"

All I have to say is this:

(ahem)

"Fire Lances Of The Ancient Hyperzephyrians".

That? That was the sound of your brain melting from Sheer Metal Bliss. You're welcome.

Excuse me, could you please point me in the direction of your 'Gun Rape' section?

Shoot 'Em Up is quite possibly the Most Ridiculous Movie Ever Made, which means that it might also be one of the Most Awesome Movies Ever Made. I haven't had a chance to make my mind up yet, as this movie has left my mind drooling in the corner due to it's SHEER LUNACY.

I mean, Clive Owen kills people with carrots, and then shoots bullets from his fingers! HIS FINGERS!

(Also: Shoot 'Em Up holds the dubious honour of being one of two movies on IMDB that's tagged with the category 'Raped By Gun', which leaves me a little disturbed that someone's searching out movies based on that criteria.)

Anyway, I just wanted to say that Monica Bellucci should just go away. Please and thank you.

In other news: Sony shows the porn industry how to film a money shot.

'Black Viper Barbarian Clan' is the nicest song I've ever heard.

I'm starting to think that I'm having an observational adverse affect on the Flames, and I'm not even sure if that sentence made any sense.

See, I love watching hockey games (although watching Boston score that 5th goal on Montreal tonight was just sad. I mean, Price didn't even try to stop that shot...), and I love listening to the game on the radio even more (as Barsky says, it forces you to visualize the game in your head, and in my head, they have battle-axes instead of hockey sticks and when the announcer says 'shoots the puck' what I really hear is 'lops off his opponent's head with a heaving mighty blow', but that's just me...), but I always get this nagging feeling that just by paying attention to the game, I'm jinxing it, because almost every time I tune in, they lose.

Of course, it could be because the Flames, while they'll always be my team, have just never been that good.

Certainly, they've got pluck, or heart, or grit, or whatever you wanna call it. They do, they got that shit in spades. It's just that they've never been a consistently solid team. No one's ever thought of the Flames the way you think about, say, the Islanders or the Oilers during the 80's, or Messier's Rangers during the 90's. They've always been lucky to get where they are, obviously working hard (or 'grinding', as everyone's so fond of saying these days, despite the fact that no one had ever used the term before Sutter took over a few years ago...), but always holding on just by the skin of their teeth.

After a while, rooting for such a team becomes an exercise in heartbreak. Don't get me wrong: I'll always cheer for the Flames - I just don't expect much from them anymore.

Anyway: stuff:

1. The Browns got us wonderful babystuff, my favourite thing being a CD entitled 'Rockabye Baby: Lullaby Renditions of Queens Of The Stone Age', and yes, you may scoff, but it's surprisingly lovely.

2. Speaking of QOTSA: the Queens just re-released Era Vulgaris with a second disc full of live stuff, as well as some extra cover songs, one of which being Billy Idol's 'White Wedding', and again, you may scoff, but it works.

3. I don't know why I like this song, but I do.

4. Speaking of battle-axes: Lair of The Minotaur's latest is called War Metal Battle Master, and that's all you need to know, because that title is AWESOME, but if you need more, they have a song called 'When The Ice Giants Slayed All'. (This might explain why my mind works the way it does during hockey games...)

5. Oh, hey, that guy who directed The Cell has a new movie, and Jennifer Lopez has nothing to do with it.

...and now my roommates are comparing drug stories, which is really weirding me out for some reason, so I'm gonna go play video games, because that's my preferred addiction these days.

I Got My Go-Go-Gadget Flow.

Yay, Spring is here! Guess who's got a head full of snot? Mucous is fun!

So, um, stuff: 1. Tetris: The Movie. I am equal parts horrified and intrigued...

...actually, no, make that 80/20 in favour of horrified.

2. A video game where edible mushroom people make war against poisonous mushroom people? With a soundtrack by Les 'I'm So Effing High That I Think My Bass Is Talking To Me' Claypool? Yes, please.

3. Warren Spector, the genius behind such awesomicity as Thief and Deus Ex, has a blog about gaming and I only found out about it just now. Go read about how video games are not only cool but good for you.

4. Shit really IS Bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S.

That's all I gots for now, as my nose has turned into a gooey faucet and my head feels like there are rabid wolverines having prison sex with my brain. I go now.

Go and buy the new Breeders, Lupe Fiasco, and Black Keys, because they are awesome and I said so.

Hey, look, it's me again.

So, the move is done. Thanks to everyone who helped, but extra special thanks go out to Rich, who is apparently Superman, as he pretty much picked up my entire apartment, flew it over to the Ladyfriend's house and managed to stuff it all inside. I don't know how he did it but he did, so, thanks.

Other things that I should mention:

1. The Soon-To-Be Grandparents came out to visit a few weeks back, and they bought us a crib, because we hadn't, y'know, thought about that...also, it gave the Ladyfriend a chance to actually speak to her new extended family, and vice versa, and I think my parents like her more than they like me. Why do say this? Because they decided to let her see my baby pictures, which none of you will see, as I was apparently raised on the set of The Hills Have Eyes.

(This is my way of saying that my parents rock. I'm weird that way.)

2. The Ladyfriend's grumpy old Honda Civic finally gave up the ghost (thank god), and while the rest of us were trying to pony up more than twenty-five dollars to help her find a new vehicle, Barsky's parents decided to show us all up by selling her a new car for a dollar. Seriously, folks; this car is sweet. As opposed to driving a senile old man with arthritis, my Baby Mama now rides around in a classy lady. Pictures soon.

3. For some reason, the powers that be decided to throw caution to the wind: I am a supervisor at work. Expect hilarity and lots of shouting to ensue. (Josh: clean out that goddamned fridge for once in your life.)

Anyway. The kid is coming. The kid is coming. Oh my FUCK. A matter of weeks, folks; maybe even days. WHO SAID WE WERE ALLOWED TO DO THIS? I STILL MAKE FART NOISES WHEN I WANT PEOPLE TO STOP TALKING! WE ARE SO NOT READY!

Whatever: we are totally gonna rock this whole 'baby' thing. My kid's gonna kick yer ass.

More news as it happens. Be good, or I'll throw things at the lot of you. Heavy things.