The Worst New York Comic Con 2011 Coverage Possible
Day Dos Equis

Written By: Joe




I started out the day at the early hour of twelve-something by doing YOGA!!!! After all, I wanted to be limbered up so as to be able to circumnavigate FATTIES. They are NOT to be touched!

I woke up a few hours later than I intended, as is my usual intent. I had intended to get a bus into the city with my friend Keran (aka The Artist Formerly Known as the Diet Queen) to meet up with Adam, who was already at the con, having traveled there in the morning like some kind of insane freak. It was raining pretty serious-like outside and the con-people had been sending motherly weather warnings by e-mail requesting that we all remember to bring rainwear especially if planning to line up in advance to wait outside for hours until the Door to Comics opened. I was not planning to wait at the Door and by the time I was full of yoga and ready to actually leave my damn house, the rain was mere baby spits, so I ignored Mother Comic Con 2011's advice and made for Bus City, where the bus come from.

Btw, if you were wondering what I had for breakfast that day, I quite honestly forget.

While waiting for the bus, Keran and I gave somebody bad advice about the bus.

On the bus, the rain started to get stupid and loud. I was worried about this.

"I'm worried about this," I told Keran. I was referencing the rain at the time.

"Maybe it will be better when we get into the city," he said.

We arrived at the Port Authority. If you've never been to the Port Authority, it is a bit of a drab, depressing shithole. They pipe classical music through its hallways, which somehow makes it only more depressing, and busses come out and go into it. Sometimes I call it the "Prot Authority." That's all you need to know about the Port Authority.

I bought a coffee because I need it as well as a bottle of water that I forced Keran to carry for me in his trenchcoat (of course he wears a trenchcoat), then we exited the Prot Authority and found that Keran was right for the first time in his whole stinking life as it wasn't raining. We had to walk a couple blocks to the Javits Center (which is a pretty funny name for a place, if nobody noticed). On our way there, we spied many geeks infestating the streets; if they didn't have the Comic Con badges hung on lanyards advertising Showtime's Dexter round their necks and weren't lugging heaving bags o' swag, they'd still have been recognizable by their Korn and Invader Zim shirts, trenchcoats, and inadvisably long hair (on the dudes; the girls is just fat).

We were walking the blocks when the rain started suggesting it might be thinking about starting up again. After a little while longer, the rain began to get more sincere in its threats.

"You know," said Keran, "maybe we should buy umbrellas. I mean, we can easily get umbrellas at any of the stores around here."

"Nah!" I said. I had no reason to deny his recommendation other than that I don't like holding things in my hands for any longer than the time it takes to drink a coffee. Also, I'm a dummy.

By the time we'd reached the general area around the convention center, the rain had returned with a ridiculous vengeance. It wasn't long before we were soaking wet and the drink I was imbibing was (re-re-re-)remixed into an espresso-acid-rain combo.

"This is why I said we should've gotten umbrellas before!" said Keran. The area around the convention center was an industrial wasteland and there was nothing in the way of anything storesque around so any umbrella potential was now pretty much voided. However, if you'll recall, Keran had earlier claimed it might not be raining by the time we made it to NYC and while he was technically right for five seconds, he was mostly WRONG AND WILL NEVER BE RIGHT ABOUT ANYTHING AND I HOPE HE READS THIS AND CRIES AND CHOKES ON HIS CRIES.

So, we trolloped our way a few more blocks briskly to the Javits (me stepping in a sizable puddle and getting my right sock to match the rest of my clothing saturation-wise), stormed disgustedly through a swarm of moist geeks, and busted through an automatic door into the Javits' maw.

It was just TERRIBLE in there, guys. So many costumes and fatties and places to buy soda. What was a feller to do, eh? Keran and I had official letters telling us we needed to go to some official blue area of the lobby to get officially officialized into officially entering the joint, so we strode off in an unknown direction, hope guiding us more than anything reasonable.

Fire Hose Monument is worshipped by all geeks.

I'd taken no more than a few steps when I saw the first major (and arguably best) THING I saw at Comic Con. A man marched past me briskly. He had some sort of costume on (I think it was green...maybe Link?), his head was thrown back, and to his nose he held a bouquet of tissues blossoming freshly with noseblood. I was so tickled by how this was basically my initial introductory image (or III (or, in Spanish, AY, AY, AY!)) of Comic Con and it was so perfectly sad and dorky and just such an encapsulation of everything I imagined and hoped I would witness at this event that I stopped in my tracks and noted it down so I would be sure not to forget. We are all very lucky this happened, or I wouldn't be here right now making fun of some stranger in an article I'm not sure anyone will ever read on the internet!!!


We wandered all coldly and wetly over to an information booth and picked up some fatass programs so that we would know when all the comics were happening that day. Keran shoved his into his trenchcoat, thus immediately ensuring its disintegration. We told Information Man we needed to be officiated in some capacity and Information Man directed us to a little box with a girl standing next to it. We went over to her and the box, which was bubbling over with lanyards.

"We need lanyards," I explained.

"Go ahead," she said.


10 XP GAINED!!!!


I called Adam and we yelled at each other over the collective geekgasming. He suggested we meet up next to this stupid-big balloon of the dog from Adventure Time. We found the dog easily (almost...too easily?) and stood nearish it, gradually acclimating to being soggy and cold, as we would remain for the rest of the day. There was a constant line just below the Adventure Time dog for geeks to shuffle through and get some free whocares - a line that, far as I could tell, remained at the same basic density over the course of all three days I was there. This, coupled with the various posters and banners with characters from the show emblazoned on them plastered all over the joint informed me that evidently Adventure Time is the new geek show to get a geek boner over. I've seen like an episode and a third, maybe? It seems pretty all right and, I guess, considering it's a kid's show (I guess?), it's charmingly fucked up. But none of this translated to me caring enough to wait in line for a free whocares and seeing so many people liking one thing so much of course made me less inclined to watch the show and more hateful of the people who liked it so much. I feel this to be the only reasonable response.

Adam arrived, NOT wet, because he's a bastard who thinks he is so cool. For some reason I don't remember, Adam handed me one of his bidnezz cards that had on it the website he makes anime on, I think. It's over here: you can click on it. I looked at the back of the card and noticed it said on the bottom "(Not official until autographed!)" so I insisted Adam autograph it. He took the card from me and drew a dick on it, an act which, before the release of Duke Nukem Forever, was considered very clever. Adam spent most of his time at Comic Con taking photos of girls flabbing out of near-nekkid costumes (for his animes website) and then handing them biznass cards. I don't know if he drew dicks on any of them. The girls or the cards.

"WOW," I said to Adam, "SHOW US THE BEST THING TO SEE AT COMIC CORN!!!" (by this time, I had begun smartly referring to the event as "Comic Corn").

Adam proceeded to take us to the area where the video game companies had set up shop, thus inciting within my brain Vietnam flashbacks of E3 2006. Oorgh, it hurt so bad, you guys! All my buddies. Lost to that day. The Day of 'Nam.

Anyway, the first thing we saw was some goddam new Final Fantasy, which sure surprised me pretty hard by looking just like every other Final Fantasy. I had seen one of these back at E3 2006 as well and I'm sure, if you showed me a cutscene from either, I wouldn't be able to guess from whence game it came. Anyway, since I couldn't tell the difference between the new game and any of the others, it made my head go back to Vietnam E3 2006 again. Here is a picture of me struggling with the remembrance of the pain of that day:


I then saw some shinola setup for some new Sonic the Hedgehog game, which made my Vietnam hurt even more because there was some crappy new Sonic back at E3, too. Oooorgh! All my buddies. I guess there's basically a new Sonic every two weeks because Sonic fans are so big into mediocrity. Anyway, I promptly pronounced the spectacle before me as "Sonic the Garbage," which I took a good long while to come up with and I'm pretty proud of so I really hope you guys will join me in celebrating this.

We found this place where Capcom was showing off their new game, Asura's Wrath, which I guess is going to be about the bad girl from Avatar: The Last Airbender, specifically the episode where she turns into a giant man who gets swords stuck in her and then everything becomes an over the top God of War clone. They had this glass screaming booth that you could get inside and scream in and a screameter would show how loud you did at screaming. You won a wig that made you look like the fella from the game, which would be a good thing to own because think of all the uses. We watched some boy in a Luigi costume scream. The girl emceeing the event kept noting he was Luigi like it was some fun, unique treat. "Wow, thanks, Luigi! Oh, so close, but you weren't loud enough, Luigi, sorry! Thanks for trying, Luigi!" If she got this excited about seeing one Luigi, her vagina must've fallen out of her shoes once she turned around and looked at the rest of the show floor.

We wandered around the place some more and I began to notice that I kept thinking I was tripping over stuff. Looking down, it became clear that some makeshift carpeting had been slapped down specifically for this event. It was red and apparently made out of material never meant to be walked upon - I think it was construction paper and yo mama's TRASH. The stuff tore off from the ground at nothing and bunched and balled up all over the place. It didn't seem to be particularly dangerous because it was too soft to obstruct walking to a problematic degree, but it was still annoying and made me feel like I was tripping over stuff with every other step and, as a result, I am afraid I have to give the New York Comic Con 3 frowny faces out of 8 frowny faces.

:( :( :(

We stumbled over some red shit and into the area where the comics that live on the internet were at. Keran went to go to talk to the guy from HIS COMICS ARE HARDLY EVER FUNNY WHO CARES and I noticed that the Cyanide & Happiness fellows from were in the general vicinity. I sort of interknow one of them, Kris, through Lauren who wrote this thing that some people printed out and tried to rob a Dollar Tree with. Kris also wrote two funny things for the site back before the internet had established its identity (goth skinhead) and then I think he went to found Cyanide and Happiness right after. IMMEDIATELY after, actually. He is pretty much the creator of it, right? Because I know him, okay?

Anyway I didn't know what he looks like though, so I approached these two people lurking around in the back of the booth and asked:

"Are any of you Kris Wilson?"

One of them told me to "hold on" and then the two of them scrambled around a little bit and asked somebody else and then returned to me and said "Yeah, he is. Wearing the hat" and pointed to a guy in a top hat sitting at the table. The area behind the booth wasn't hugely spacious or anything, so I figured everyone in there had to be related to the comic's creation somehow, yet these people didn't know who Kris was without asking so I think I have to assume they were booth grunts? Like grunts you get for your booth? Explosm must be raking it in to be able to afford booth grunts.

I went over to wait behind somebody who was having Kris sign a thing and draw little comics on it, which, frankly, is just no way to make a living. Honestly. This America is not founded on little drawings. Egypt kind of is though. And slave labor. Like America.

Truth photo of reality.

Once he was finished, I approached him.

"Kris," said I.

"Yeah," said he.

"Do you remember Joe from Listen to Me?"


"That's me," I said, pointing at myself like in that famous photo of mine:

"Oh, hey!" he said. He seemed to actually be pleased to meet me, which I find kind of weird because I'm neither pleasant nor pleasing. "I didn't even know you knew what I did."

We shook hands, thereby completing the circle of internet life, I'm pretty sure.

Kris asked if I still spoke to Lauren and I told him I did so especially infrequently and asked if he kept in touch with him and he said "of course" because I forgot but him and Lauren are like ACTUAL friends, so I guess his story checks out.

I told him I was planning to do bad coverage of Comic Con, in the style of E3 coverage I once did (which I described as being like a drunken person wandering around, bumping into things, and spouting nonsense at people) and asked if he might draw something for it in me wee notepad.

Keran was all "You don't have anything better?"


While Kris drew, another of the Explosm guys started talking to me about how they'd had people steal from their booths in the past.

"Someone stole my shirt," he said. "Like, the shirt I was wearing for all of the con that was all sweaty."

"Wow," I said. "Did you ever think about what they did with that shirt?"

"I try not to."

"Well, I think you should."

" I am."

So Kris drew the bad coverage drawing that I am using as the representative image for this entire article opus, which is big shit, let me tell ya, so I hope he's grateful. I called it "bad coverage" at the time, which led him to creating that clever little image of his, but then realized later I wanted to call it the "worst possible coverage." Oops. Whatever. I wonder what he would've drawn instead. I wonder... I wonder........

He also drew this charming picture of a man being scared by a spooky ghost!

Do you get how he did it? That is some Advanced Art 301!

For reference, my scanner has been on the ASSHOLE FRITZ so I ended up having Keran take photos of the notebook, which he then e-mailed to me. This is why you can see bits of tablecloth behind the drawings. Technology is at the toppest of notches at!!!

Kris gave me back my sexy, sleek notebook and we shook appendages again.

"I'll let Lauren know we met, it'll make him happy," I said.

"Me too!" said Kris. It's unclear if he meant he would also tell Lauren or that it also made him happy or that he would also tell Lauren that it also made him happy or D - All of the above. It was a poorly thought-out sentence, quite honestly, but I guess he gets paid for drawin', not word-thinkin', so I guess it's fine. This time.

At this point, Adam informed us he needed to charge his important phone so he could continue to dick around on it in an important fashion. So we forced our way through the geek-throng to the back of the room where the outlets hide on the walls. Keran and I were still soaking wet, but I suppose I'd gotten used to being thoroughly physically uncomfortable at all times, as it meshed well with the social discomfort I was already jiving on. On our way toward chargeland, Keran pulled out his NYCC program, displaying that it was this close to being a ball of papier mache.

"Whatever I brush against becomes wet," he commented as he squeezed past some people. I am not sure why he said this. I already knew this about him.

Adam found his charge point and plugged in his phone. As a result, I started calling him Mr. Chargey Plargey. We all agreed it was basically the best nickname in nickname history. As we waited for him, water dripped on my head from an unknown above because I didn't already have enough wet on me. Adam was already done chargeying when Keran remembered we obviously needed a photo of him that exemplified his title of Mr. Chargey Plargey, so he had him plug the phone in again and caught him in the act:

Ha ha ha!!! He is both chargey AND plargey!

See, most "real" news sites would be too afraid to tell you the truth behind their photos, but I have given you the whole story behind Mr. Chargey Plargey and this staged photo scandal!!! Incidentally, some days later, ALL THE TREES in my town fell down and I lost power in my house for many days. I was forced to charge my phone and laptop at Keran's house, at which point, Adam, also present, declared:

"Now who's Mr. Chargey Plargey?"

It was a revenge served hardcore, which I have not, as of yet, recovered from.

We made our way over to some other video game bollocks. It was some game involving the Xbox 360's Kinect, which is Microsoft throwing their hat into the "games are better when you flail around like you dumb" ring. We stood and watched somebody flail at the game for awhile (I totally and completely forget what game it was) and Adam asked me if I was waiting to play it.

"What? I don't wanna play it!" I said more loudly than I probably should've, causing some guy passing by at that moment to guffaw.

We'd seen the majority of the main show floor by this time and I was coming dangerously close to being really quite bored! Supposedly, the real thing you're supposed to do at these conventions is go to panels, which are rooms where you're crammed in amongst an assemblage of other terror geeks and then people who have been deemed in some way more important than you sit on a stage behind a long table and tell you how they have a new thing coming out soon and it is going to be the shit. There were literally only two and half panels I cared about at all and none of them were happening that day. There was, however, a South Park panel about to start. South Park was like my favorite thing ever when it first happened and I was a teenager, but at this point I'm only mildly amused that it remains allowed to exist and, the longer it airs, the more it feels like it's kind of just on offensive auto-pilot.

BUT WHATEVER! We had nothing better to do so let's go to the South Park panel.

On our way there, I must've seen a real-life attractive female geek, which gave me the idea to start tallying up in my notebook the amount of "Accidentally Attractive Women" I saw. I decided to class these as girls who were geeks who managed to be genuinely pretty without having to cake themselves in various make-ups. I spotted both girl-geeks just wandering around being geeks (usually with a guy-geek) and ones in cosplay who actually looked good in the cosplay and not like some bad fan art of the character consisting mostly of carelessly drawn, wide arcs.

I ended up abandoning this idea quickly into my second day at the con. Basically, you get enough people of any sort into one place, you're going to have a significant number of attractive women, just based on the law of averages. Furthermore, it occurred to me that, unless I either took photos of all of them (and the ones who weren't cosplaying might not have cottoned to that) or stopped to write down detailed descriptions, this whole endeavor would boil down to me just going "ALL SAID AND DONE I SAW 48 ACCIDENTALLY ATTRACTIVE WOMEN! WHAT A COUNTRY." So. Yep. That's that part done.

Well, clearly this was no accident.

When we got downstairs to where the panel rooms were, I saw Judah Friedlander of 30 Rock fame walking around. This was quite the colossal event, I'm sure you can't imagine because you weren't there to bask in awe and glory??? I then left Keran and Adam to wait in the line to get into the panel, as I went to make a pee. I had to wait in another, smaller line for my pee and, apparently, once I got in and was peein', Judah Friedlander was somewhere around there too, a-poopin' or a-peein' I'm gonna hafta assume. Some geeks saw him leave and commented on this and the joy it gave them. One of them said something about how he was surprised Judah was in there because he thought he'd have some kind of secret elite toilet to do wastes in away from the chaff. It was quite a comment.

After washing my hands (I bet I was the only one in that convention who washed his hands), I returned to Keran and Adam. The line they were waiting in was in great chaos because it was clusterfucking with a line for some convention Mark Hamill was gonna be at so everyone was really there for that. It took us (and several others) quite some time to figure out where we were supposed to be to get into the proper room and, when we finally did, we realized we needed to go to a different door entirely. However, it was at this very time that the Mark Hamill panel attendees began to be let in and we had to travel in a manner that went right through the shifting mass of pimply bodies.


By a security man who told us we had to wait for the whole damn dorkstream to pass by before we could continue onward. Some guy who tried to go after us was stopped by the security man with the phrase:

"Excuse me miss--sir."

The missir in question had (unsurprisingly) long hair, but was still fairly clearly male. If the security guard was that flummoxed by this one guy, he must've made a lot of sex-based slip-ups throughout the four days of the convention. Read into this however you see fit.

By the time we got into the panel, it was nearly plum full up. Plums! Keran decided to fuck off back to New Jersey because he needed to get home soon anyway and figured there was no point in taking up a seat for a little while when the panel was packed with winners with more losers waiting to get in. Adam and I both got in, but were forced to separate (BUT WE WOULD NEVER ALLOW IT TO HAPPEN AGAIN AFTER THAT) and placed on near opposite sides of the room! :(!!!!! Adam got a seat with a fucking pillar in his face. He took some deliberately bad photos for me, in keeping with my themes. I will show you them. In time.


I got seated next to a chubby Asian fella who struck up a conversation with the guy on the other side of him. The Chubbasian turned out to be an English professor, much like myself, so I made sure not to open my mouth and let him know we had something in common. The Chubbasian began discussing how the kids he teaches put text speak into their essays and how this was an epidemic and stuff. I honestly have never come across any students ever doing this and believe it is a myth invented by the Chubbasian media and Andy Rooney so I decided I hated him for this and also because he was a Comic-Con geek and I was cooler than everybody there, obviously. Also, Chubbasian spent basically the whole panel with ear buds in, playing games on his phone. I was left wondering why he'd even attended the friggin' thing.

At one point, it occurred to me that Keran had fucked off back to Jersey with my water bottle still in his coat, so I sent him a text message reading: "You took my water bottle and i fucking hate you[.]" He sent back text laughter like "HAHAHAHA" which was pretty goddamned uncool.

The panel ended up being pretty damn grim. They showed a trailer for this extremely average-looking, boring downloadable South Park video game for XBox Live. It looked exactly like what you'd expect a company to produce when given a license, a so-so budget, and the instructions to make a downloadable game. It was thoroughly underwhelming shit.

The developers came out and sat there and spoke with great zeal of their irrelevant little game and revealed amazing details about getting to play as the South Park kids' superhero alter-egos and that there were other secrets THEY WEREN'T GOING TO REVEAL YET BUT, WOW, HOLY SECRETS, SOUNDS LIKE A MUST-BUY!!! Then they opened the floor to questions, which, shockingly, some people had.

The Q&As at Comic-Con panels were easily the most entertaining aspects of the entire convention. I'm still truly a bit stunned at the very notion of them. I mean, in this case, the people being questioned were game developer nobodies developing a nothing-nobody game, but often these panels feature moderately famous people and it's so hilarious and amazing to me that they allow some of the most unwashed and socially disabled of riffraff to approach microphones and say things into them for the real-lifers to have to respond to. I mean, realistically speaking, people who have achieved enough to be up on a stage explaining something they've done should never be called upon to listen to and take into sincere consideration whatever crazy noise might come out of the things that make up the audience before them. And yet, this is exactly what Comic-Con allows for.

To wit, the absurdity was well on display from the outset as people in all manner of costume lined up in the aisles for a turn to ask some deep and prying question that might reveal more sides of a game that had clearly already shown off all its dimensions. There was one guy decked out as something blue (one of those Star Wars alien whores maybe? I don't remember), who was so chock full of queries he got in line twice. Most of the questions were about things I can no longer fathom anybody ever caring about anything ever, like what sort of unlockable costumes and levels there might be, most of which the crafty developers chose not to respond to beyond saying coy things about having "surprises for you guys."

The game in question, so that you understand what kind of boredom we're dealing with here.

The most incredible question by far came from some guy who, in an overly verbose fashion, wanted to know if choices you made earlier in the game might affect how it played later. Had he seen a different trailer than we all had? Had he not seen the one where a bunch of little cartoonish sprites jumped around haphazardly whacking and shooting at each other? Was he on some kind of Deus Ex: Human Revolution come down? His question was so odd and unexpected that the developers had to get him to clarify it a few times - the awkwardness in the room heightening to smellable levels - before they finally explained that, no, unfortunately there would not be any huge choices of morality to be made in the stupid new South Park XBLA multiplayer fighty-platformy game, but that "there would be unlockable characters and a lot of surprises for you guys."

After this, a very young boy made his way up to the mic (I think they propped him up on a box or something) and asked "When does the narwhal bacon?" A few people seemed to understand what he was on about, but the developers and the majority of the audience certainly didn't. One developer said "What?" and the audience went largely quiet. Then some crazy-ass broad who was standing up at the opposite end of the room shouted:

"Oh, that's funny! At midnight."

The confusion continued to reign regardless and the boy quietly walked away from the mic. The developers appeared to feel guilty, however, like they hadn't answered his question properly and urged him to go back. So he did. He hesitated a moment, however.

"Go ahead and ask your question," the mental lady loudly encouraged. "You're the most interesting thing at this panel anyhow." This bold protest generated some bemused murmurs.

"When does the narwhal bacon?" repeated the boy. The developers were sad to find they still did not know.

"At midnight, at midnight. The answer's 'at midnight,'" repeated the nutty lady and the kid walked off again, satisfied(?)

As the awkwardness reached a point at which you could bite into it and it could sustain you for a lil' while, the developers attempted to push the Q&A sputteringly forward. But they were interrupted by the Mad Broad of NYCC 2011 shouting:

"ANSWER THE KID'S MOTHERFUCKIN' QUESTION!" This seemed an irrational request, as they had attempted to do so two times already.

I couldn't really see what happened over at that side of the room, but the lady either crazied her own way out or was gently escorted. The guy moderating the panel (who was actually funnier than one would expect someone moderating such a POS panel would be) referred to her as the "Comic-Con Activist" (what cause she was protesting for or against we may never know) and, following this, she was never spoken of again.

Here's an illuminating photo of what happened over at that side of the room.

I've since looked up the phrase twice uttered by Boy and have discovered it's a reference to something on WHO CARES ABOUT YOUR STUPID MEMES, SHUT UP, THE INTERNET.

When we finally got finished talking about the stupid game that nobody needs to care about, they showed us this documentary that I had a vague interest in, but hadn't seen that had already aired on Comedy Central some time before called Six Days to Air: The Making of South Park about the creation of a South Park episode from start to finish. (If you've ever felt like South Park episodes, both the good and the bad, feel like they got fucked together in about a week, this documentary demonstrates that's because that's exactly what happens with every single one.) I wasn't that jonesed about it, but, whatever, we were already there, so I stayed, soaking in my seat, and watched.

It was fine.

They showed some outtakes at the end. Then some more something happened. None of it mattered. I caught Adam's eye and we both decided to leave before our boredom hit critical levels.

The following notes that I can no longer fully grasp the meaning of are apparently the last musings I jotted down about Day Two of the New York Comic Con 2011:

ridiculously bulky obese woman

geek cripples


This website is © 2001-2012 Listen To Me. All pictures, sounds and other stuff which doesn't belong to us is © its respective owner(s). Everything else is a free-for-all. Steal anything we created (as if you'd ever want to) and we'll...well, we probably won't be motivated to do anything. But you never know. And yes, that is Colonel Sanders throwing a punch at this copyright notice. SMACK