The Dragon*Con post, 2017

As some might recall, I skipped Dragon*Con in 2016, citing that I felt like I needed a break from the event as a whole, cold turkey full stop.  Mythical gf and I deliberately scheduled an out-of-country cruise vacation on that very same period of time so that we could eliminate all doubts and remove all temptations to participate in anything, and I have zero regrets for doing what we did then.

However, I would be lying to myself if I didn’t feel a little bit melancholy about the notion of deviating from what was something of a yearly tradition, where large chunks of my friends gather, and it’s a pretty comprehensive experience of catching up with people, taking a ton of pictures and imbibing in a whole lot of alcohol.  As much as I relished in the opportunity to take a break, I kind of knew that I would be back the following year; I accomplished my goal of wanting to feel like I missed out, which renewed my sense of wanting to go back.

Life works in interesting ways sometimes, and we don’t always get to have a say in what happens when.  And as much as I was actually back to looking forward to Dragon*Con again this year, some things I’m not going to get into happened at a fairly conflicting time, and really derailed the experience as a whole.  Needless to say, not only was Dragon*Con something that got pushed into the backseat, I’ll admit that it was something that was practically impossible for me to enjoy throughout the weekend.

I’ll often say that writing is an efficient form of therapy for me, and sometimes it takes seeing thoughts formed into words and slapped onto a word processor for me to gain some clarity, but such is very true as far as my overall feelings of the con itself.  I’m trying my best to remain as objective as possible without letting my personal life overlap with anything else, but the reality is that everything is relative, and life doesn’t take a backseat just because something is planned, and life doesn’t stop when it comes to day-to-day living them out. 

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When kids make grown-up money

When I was in the fifth grade, I was a huge Mighty Morphin Power Rangers fan.  This was one of those things that publicly amongst my school peers, I kept under wraps because that shit was for kid-kids, i.e., the ones in the third grade or younger.  Yet I was still captured by the campy acting, bad voiceovers and the fight footage more sliced and spliced together than a Kardashian.

I even learned how to program my VCR timer because of Power Rangers, because the show always came on at 2:30 when I didn’t get home from school until like 3:45.  That’s how much I grew to love Power Rangers, that I forced myself to learn things in order to enjoy a mindless and stupid kids show.

That particular winter, when Power Rangers really began merchandising, I decided that I really wanted a MegaZord and/or a DragonZord.  I wasn’t necessarily a Transformers or Voltron fan, but I loved the Transformers/Voltron-like manner in which the Zords transformed and connected together, and I really, really, really wanted some Zord toys of my own.

Unfortunately, this winter was the winter when Power Rangers toys were the hot item for the holiday season.  The equivalent of Tickle Me Elmo, Furbies, hoverboards, NES Classics, or whatever that one thing is during each holiday season in which there aren’t ever enough of, and the demand becomes so great, it achieves a modicum of mainstream attention at just how hard it is to get them, perpetuating the cycle of unavailability to the next level. 

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Weekends are for working

No lie, ever since I moved into my house, I’ve worked more during each weekend than I have been at my actual job.  At least in the sense of doing things that physically tire me out versus my cushy office job that I do almost entirely while sitting down in a chair.

But ever since I moved in, just about every single weekend has been marathons of painting, moving things, assembling things, installing things, unpacking boxes, taking trash out, and other time-consuming tasks that have me scratching my head wondering where the days go, and why is it 10 p.m. already?  I am so over painting now, and I hope to not have to do any more painting for several, several years, although I can already think of areas of my house in which builder beige will not be tolerated in the long run.

Weekends fly by with me scarcely getting any substantial computer time, and by the time I do mundane things like checking my email or looking at Facebook, I’ve usually got a lot of new email and my Facebook feed has several days’ worth of peoples’ mundane status updates and inconsequential humblebrags and notifications.  Aside from the shit I can play on my phone, I haven’t touched a video game in weeks, and I haven’t played League since my desk and my desktop were still at the old apartment.

The thing is though, this isn’t me complaining at all about it.  It’s entirely factual that I’ve been busier on weekends than I am during the week, but ultimately, there’s a sense of gratification and reward with every task I finish and progress made towards the ultimate completion of moving in.

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This kind of makes me sad

Short story shorter: Six Flags Over Georgia says goodbye to the Georgia Cyclone rollercoaster, after 27 years of operation

Ultimately, it’s just a rollercoaster, but as many of my non-existent readers know I’m just reluctant to change.

Anyway, I do have fond memories of the Georgia Cyclone, because it was the first roller coaster I rode in my first-ever trip to Six Flags Over Georgia.  This was long before the Batman ride, even longer before Goliath, before amusement parks all across the country weren’t in this perpetual rat race to see who could churn out the tallest, fastest, scariest and/or most grandiose rides, to attract would-be riders to stand in 60 minute-long lines just for 60 seconds of thrill.

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Photos: Momo-con 2017

[2020 note] This is more or less lost content that I never made a post about from 2017.  But it’s basically the photo dump of all the photos I took at Momo-con that year, and because I imagine photo galleries are the one thing that never gets old from the rando-internet traveller, they’ll always have some relevance on the web.

I vaguely remember this was the first time I was getting to use my new L-series lens at a convention, and thinking how heavy it was, but the photo quality that came from it was worth it, as I had some photoshoots of mythical then-gf in her Sweetheart Annie costume, as well as my famiry friends rocking Bioshock cosplay.

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NBA: National Bitches Association

Prior to reading this, I implore my six readers to press play and listen to the theme of when the NBA was truly golden, and basketball was a respectable sport rife with athletes playing against other athletes in the game of basketball, and news was limited to solely basketball-related stories.

This is a topic that’s been on my head for quite some time, but never really chose to run with it, because quite frankly the world is full of way more interesting stories, or things that I’d rather write about, like overturned tractor trailers, or conspiracy theories about MARTA.  But then I saw this article about Ray Allen being a bitch because all his former Celtics teammates had a championship team reunion and didn’t invite him, because they are all bitches as well.

This story follows a week that also saw DeMar DeRozan of the Toronto Raptors whining about how his team would have advanced in the playoffs if they had LeBron James; like a sore loser, or, like a bitch. 

And speaking of LeBron James, earlier in the season, he had an altercation with a teammate, but instead of going Old Testament on him and kicking his ass in the locker room or throwing him under the bus to the media, instead he, the guy who brought glory back to Cleveland, won numerous championships and has nothing left to prove, assumes blame, takes responsibility for the altercation and apologizes to the jobber teammate, the fans and the organization.

Like a bitch.

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It looks like Darth Maul had sex with a stormtrooper

Debuting in America twenty years too late: Introducing for the first time in America, the Honda Civic . . . TYPE-RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

I almost said ten years when I really meant to say that I would’ve been really excited about this news twenty years ago, but honestly, I’d probably have been more excited when I was 25 too.  God damn I’m fucking old now.

But regardless of my age, for all intents and purposes, the Civic Type-R is finally coming to America.  17-22-year old me would be ecstatic about this news, and swear to somehow manage to save enough money to be able to get one but ultimately fail miserably when other life priorities emerge.  25-year old me might consider this as a hard want, but eventually deduce that it would be a fiscally irresponsible decision and stick with their completely paid-off car until it eventually died.

And 35-year old me simply brogs about it, injecting wit, snark and saracasm that I think appeals to way more people than it probably actually does.  All six of them.  Well, zero, considering my site’s been down for over a year now.  Whatever, I’ve never stopped writing, even to a non-audience.

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