Matt’s Movies will host a private screening of Morgan Spurlock’s geeky lovefest “Comic-Con Episode Four: A Fan’s Hope” on Thursday, April 5th at the Arclight in Hollywood – followed by a Q&A with the director!
If you’re a KCRW Angel, click here to RSVP for our screening.
If you’re not, you might still be able to attend! Just post a comment at the end of this post and tell me your favorite Comic-Con experience…your exploits with wild Vulcan women, the best swag you ever scored, trying to find a reasonably priced hotel room…you get the idea. Do it by midnight Sunday the 1st, leave your e-mail and up five lucky nerds (or more!) will be invited to join us with a guest. Good luck!
Here’s a couple of the amazing stories we’ve already received.
My favorite Comic Con story took place two years ago. I was walking the floor and I passed the Bongo booth and noticed a line Matt Groening was signing (Bongo is the name of Matt’s comic book company). I don’t get star struck easily but I giggling like a little school girl when I saw him. The sad part was the line was closed and couldn’t get in. However 15min later he walked out and I was able to take a picture with the man helped mold my humor today. Flash Forward to the 2011 Con I printed the picture of Matt and myself to have him sign it. This time around I was able to stand in line. He takes the picture and noticed he was wearing the same shirt he wore last year. Proof: http://imgur.com/cLtNy.
I had a total fan girl fail when I attempted to profess my love to Nathan Fillion. I literally walked up to the man, said “Hi” and froze. I did one of those deer in headlights things. It was terrible. I think he said something along the lines of “Hello, my name is Nathan” and all I could think of to reply was “I know, you’re amazing.” Luckily his brain was still working while mine was not and he managed to coax the camera out of the death grip I had on it. I walked away from the experience with a picture and maybe a slight case of extreme embarrassment.
Back in 2008, I was sent to Comic Con for work. This would be my first time experiencing Comic Con in all of its glory. At the time, I kept a blog at the time about my dating trials and tribulations. I was in a bit of a rut because I was single and still treading water in the murky swamp of the dating world.
I did not come out of Comic Con with any stories of romantic conquest.
I came out with some rank, 4-days-of-sweaty, swag-greedy, Cheeto fingers-funk on me. But no romantic conquest.
The closest I came was when a timid, Storm Trooper removed her helmet and approached me at the booth. She was about 12 and was your stereo-typical emo kid. Long, dyed-black bangs with red streaks (a la’ Rufio) that hungover one side of her face. She caked on the eye liner, that much I could tell from her only exposed eye. She looked up at me (sans smile), no emotion, completely deadpan, and said, “I just want you to know, you have gorgeous eyes.”
She put back on her helmet and left me confused as she disappeared from my life into the mass of costumed conventioners.
Hey. I’ll take the compliment where I can get it.
I witnessed a lot of romance this weekend. And by that I mean, I wept for my gender as I saw hundreds of guys line up to have their buddies snap pictures of them standing next to busty, booth babes wearing costumes not much larger than an eye patch.