Things I Have Learned from Comic-Con: Day Three

• The Sucklord, in response to someone admiring his "costume": "It's not a costume, it's a way of life!"
  
• While still the most frontin'-est rapper around, MC Frontalot is as chill and down-to-earth as he is tall. And he is, of course, not a short man by any means.
  
• Octopus Pie, as a title, is just nonsensical and has no real bearing on the strip. Not that the strip needed help being awesome.
  
• Come to think of it, Meredith Gran is also quite chill and down-to-earth, and was cool about signing something for a friend who's been feelin' kinda craptacular.
  
• Actually, though I didn't get to talk with all of them, I'm just gonna toss this out there: the whole Dumbrella crew and affiliates? C'mon. You can figure out the rest from here.
  
• From The Multicultural Mask panel on breaking down barriers of race, gender, and sexual orientation in comics, paraphrased: "They need to do something like Marvel Zombies, y'know . . . but, like, 'Marvel People of Color.' 'Ah, they're turning non-white! Run!'"
  
• It is completely justifiable to spend hundreds of dollars at a con, so long as a healthy percentage of that goes towards gifts for other people.
  
• There is nothing more uncomfortable than squeezing past the sweaty, clammy dudes hanging around the hentai / erotic art / erotic comic booths, beyond the nagging, irrational fear that you're somehow being perceived as one . . . even though the most scandalous thing you've purchased is Scott Pilgrim.
  

And, finally:

• There is no quicker way to lose five pounds than by staying on your feet for eight hours straight, three days in a row. There is no quicker way to gain it back than by going to the nearby pizzeria for lunch every day.
  

Much props to Matt, Jesse, and the crew from Onell; Boris and the crew from Rocket North; Meredith Gran, Andrew Bell, and MC Frontalot; the Sucklord; the legendary Peter Laird; David Petersen; and just about anyone who I forgot to mention, but who made NYCC completely awesome this year.

Oh hey, damn me, I forgot the one person who made it possible: my ever-lovin' fake niece, Jen . . . not that she reads this, but damnit, I remembered!

Back to regular programming as soon as I recover...