Horrorfind Weekend run down
Aug. 26th, 2002 05:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thejunipertreeFriday: I'm up too goddamn early after not having enough goddamn sleep. The Engineer and I head off to Dani's house (much wackiness ensues due to getting lost). I wave at the crazy retarded guy who keeps waving at our car. And we spend two plus hours at Heb and Jinx's house, waiting for them to get Thee Pumpkin Girl.
A two car caravan to Jinx's grandparents' house to drop off the most retarded dog in the world (Generic, very aptly named). I play "spot the mailbox which is not shaped anything like a mailbox". A firetruck, four little cottages, a strange metal sculpture thingie, and many others.
Cigarettes! Liquor store! Being asked if we're in a gang! I buy a case of Mike's Hard Lemonade, to see if a second and evil head will sprout from my shoulder. I also buy peanuts to feed the head, in case it gets hungry.
More driving then I ever thought humanly possible. The Engineer keeps bitching about how Heb isn't keeping an eye on our car following her car. I occupy myself with staring out the window and wondering if Baltimore even exists.
A cheer rises as spot the airport signs. Dani is dropped off at her hotel, we head to ours. Check in is completed. We drag ourselves upstairs and rearrange accordingly. Suit up and we're off (quite a bit late for the actual vendor check in, but that's okay).
Set up, drink up, and the night begins. There is a strange black man with a camera who continually comes to our table to take photos of our wares, our selves, but yet says nothing to us. TPG smacks down some drunk asshat who insists that Kali doesn't have a black face. I giggle too much and bemoan the state of my shoes, which are beginning to fall apart.
Stricken anonymous for privacy author guy comes to the table to inform Dani that Gothic.Net guy owes him money. Witty speech back and forth, he claims to be Poppy Z. Brite and continues to cover his name tag so Dani can't figure out who he is. Out comes a copy of his book. Lo and Behold! I have read this and exclaim so. Too bad I can't remember a damn thing about the book, other than it has vampires in it and there is no giant shark at the end. Anonymous author guy doesn't seem to like this fact very much, despite me protesting that I read it quite some time ago and devour books like most women use tampons.
Point. Cackle. Drink vodka gimlets. A lot of vendor tables aren't set up, so there isn't very much to see just yet. And I don't feel like getting in line to meet any of the celebrities.
The music from the boys in a booth right near us is driving me insane. Midnight Syndicate. It's giving us a soundtrack for everything we do, making it seem terribly dramatic. We act out various sequences of the drama. We are known as the "wacky" table.
We go to the "seance". Which I didn't want to go to in the first place and put the word in quotes because it was nothing resembling a seance. It's mostly talking about dowsing rods, which some big headed blonde girl gets up at one point to tell the guy demonstrating that he's doing it wrong. He proclaims her to be an expert. I secretly proclaim her to be an idiot.
End of night brings hunger. Heb, Jinx, TPG, The Engineer, and I stand outside the hotel and contemplate where to get food. We almost mug a pizza hug for his wares, but settle instead for a description of "the Farm Store" which has a selection of late night hick food. "Cold cuts, already made up!"
The drive to this place is /scary./ I proclaim it to be the Blair Witch road, but quickly change that to In The Mouth of Madness road, when we see a creepy guy riding his bike down the center of the asphalt. Wild dog in the parking lot. The Engineer only gets a drop of cheese on his lonely little hot dog.
Back to our hotel where we eat, watch a bad BAD BAD movie, then sleep. Morning is coming far too quickly.
Saturday: Up at NINE IN THE FUCKING MORNING to get to the other hotel for set up. How I love to blow past the line of losers waiting for passes with a wave of my vendor wristband (I didn't get a keen badge like everyone else did because they ran out). Everyone walking past has morning face. We have morning face. The celebrities have morning face.
Sometime in the afternoon, strange people in costumes show up. Creepy zombie scarecrow on stilts. TPG and I 'meep!' a lot and hide from his line of vision. I declare that if it comes near me, I'm going under the table. I can't handle masks and shit like that. Low and behold, the motherfucker shambles to our vicinity and I dive for the safetly of under the table.
Wackiness ensues, which involves him thinking this is very funny and calling his boys over: Zombie with his head in a cage and zombie with a hockey mask on. They decide to try and get under the table to get me. I'm screaming and laughing and brandishing a glass bottle at them. My table mates are almost peeing themselves, laughing. The Engineer is getting pissed because he thinks they won't leave me alone. And a crowd is forming.
'DO NOT FUCK WITH THE SCHIZOPHRENIC!!'
My angry Guido boyfriend finally scares them off. I peep out from under the table with everyone laughing at me. God, I have to pee. But, now those zombie guys are down the hall and right near the bathrooms! ARGH! JC has to pee, too. So, he and The Engineer go with me. I slink right behind hockey face zombie, trying to look for all the world like someone who is completely an adult and can handle people in masks. I have no shoes on and everyone seems ten feet taller than me. I'm beginning to become a little uncomfortable in the crowd. There's just too many people for my liking.
Heb and Jinx have sold quite a few of their dolls. TPG has sold many pins. I have done jack shit. People look at my dollies and exclaim how cute they are, but no one buys. We keep getting this one little goth girl with one eyebrow coming to our table, but she is indecisive and doesn't buy anything.
Grrr.
We decide at one point that TPG should produce a line of pins which are the entire text of the Necronomicon. One word at a time.
I want to lick the Hearses parked in the lot outside, to mark them as my territory.
This night ends and we decide to go to our hotel eatery, instead of ordering room service. The Discovery channel is showing all sorts of animal fuckery, which causes us to barely be able to breathe from all the laughing. Back to the room, to get changed for swimming. Jinx has on a pig head mask that he bought that day. Standing in front of TPG and I, tweaking his nipples and grinding a bottle of rum against his crotch. Pictures are taken. Heb grabs the mask and goes out on the balcony to scare the people across the way, which results in an accidential boob flashing. TPG and I have a conversation about non alcoholic beer and the ridiculousness of anyone wanting to drink beer, solely for the taste.
I only eat peyote for the taste. I'm addicted to drugs, so now I eat cow shit because I really miss the taste of peyote.
Down to the pool, in costume no less. Heb has the pig mask on. I've got a white towel wrapped around my head like Mother Teresa. TPG has her towl stuck down the front of her shorts like a loin cloth. We stand at the elevator and wait for it to open. As the doors slide, Heb peeps her head around them to scare the shit out of the lone guy standing in there. He does a good impression of believeing us to not exist, as Heb keeps inching along the wall closer to him. He becomes one with the corner.
HAH!
To the pool! With booze! The lifeguard informs us that we can't bring it in with us. The Engineer downs his Corona in one gulp, Jinx throw his glass of rum outside. We are rock stars.
Swimming in this pool is like swimming in bleach. Heb, TPG, and I gang up on Jinx to try and steal his pants. This results in me being head butted in the jaw.
Back up to our room, soggy and dripping, to dry off and watch Blade II. A drinking game is devised. You have to take a drink every time Wesley Snipes says a bad oneliner or does a gratuitious martial arts move. I fall asleep right after I finish only ONE STINKING BOTTLE of my lemonade, thereby missing a large portion of the movie. I'm woken up when it ends. Everyone goes to bed, but now I'm wide awake and forced, out of boredom, into watching Jerry Springer. Ahh, me.
Sunday: Packing up and heading back to the main hotel for our last day of vending. I still haven't sold a goddamn thing, other than Dani's Gothic.Net t-shirts. No sign of the creepy zombie things, thankfully. Breakfast involves Pledge tasting Eggs Benedict. Ick. We sit outside in shifts and I spend too much money (grand total for the weekend: the Tragedy Living Dead Doll, a long sleeve Nosferatu t-shirt, two toy Hearses, a copy of the movie 'Audition', and a CD for the Engineer).
We're all dragging our asses around, exhaustion is beginning to take its toll. Dani tries to convince me to go up to Tom Savini and say "Can I touch your gun, Sex Machine?" Instead, I make her do it.
FINALLY, I sell a doll. One lonely little doll. Emily, the one in the straightjacket, is sold to the goth girl with one eyebrow.
Sheesh.
I chat for a bit outside with one of the owner's of Great Jones, a store I have frequented up in New Hope. Later, he gives me a free pack of Nightmare Before Christmas party hats. Wheee! He seems cool enough.
End of the con. We pack up in five seconds and pull ourselves together. I'm starting to feel unreal and squirrelly from being in such unfamilar surroundings for so long, so I'm grateful to be heading home.
Home is headed for, but not before a Denny's stop somewhere in Maryland. No smoking, those Nazi bastards! Jinx regales us with tales of how he touches absolutely nothing in public bathrooms. We split up at the Delaware memorial bridge.
I sleep most of the ride home. heh.
On that note, I leave you with this.
A two car caravan to Jinx's grandparents' house to drop off the most retarded dog in the world (Generic, very aptly named). I play "spot the mailbox which is not shaped anything like a mailbox". A firetruck, four little cottages, a strange metal sculpture thingie, and many others.
Cigarettes! Liquor store! Being asked if we're in a gang! I buy a case of Mike's Hard Lemonade, to see if a second and evil head will sprout from my shoulder. I also buy peanuts to feed the head, in case it gets hungry.
More driving then I ever thought humanly possible. The Engineer keeps bitching about how Heb isn't keeping an eye on our car following her car. I occupy myself with staring out the window and wondering if Baltimore even exists.
A cheer rises as spot the airport signs. Dani is dropped off at her hotel, we head to ours. Check in is completed. We drag ourselves upstairs and rearrange accordingly. Suit up and we're off (quite a bit late for the actual vendor check in, but that's okay).
Set up, drink up, and the night begins. There is a strange black man with a camera who continually comes to our table to take photos of our wares, our selves, but yet says nothing to us. TPG smacks down some drunk asshat who insists that Kali doesn't have a black face. I giggle too much and bemoan the state of my shoes, which are beginning to fall apart.
Stricken anonymous for privacy author guy comes to the table to inform Dani that Gothic.Net guy owes him money. Witty speech back and forth, he claims to be Poppy Z. Brite and continues to cover his name tag so Dani can't figure out who he is. Out comes a copy of his book. Lo and Behold! I have read this and exclaim so. Too bad I can't remember a damn thing about the book, other than it has vampires in it and there is no giant shark at the end. Anonymous author guy doesn't seem to like this fact very much, despite me protesting that I read it quite some time ago and devour books like most women use tampons.
Point. Cackle. Drink vodka gimlets. A lot of vendor tables aren't set up, so there isn't very much to see just yet. And I don't feel like getting in line to meet any of the celebrities.
The music from the boys in a booth right near us is driving me insane. Midnight Syndicate. It's giving us a soundtrack for everything we do, making it seem terribly dramatic. We act out various sequences of the drama. We are known as the "wacky" table.
We go to the "seance". Which I didn't want to go to in the first place and put the word in quotes because it was nothing resembling a seance. It's mostly talking about dowsing rods, which some big headed blonde girl gets up at one point to tell the guy demonstrating that he's doing it wrong. He proclaims her to be an expert. I secretly proclaim her to be an idiot.
End of night brings hunger. Heb, Jinx, TPG, The Engineer, and I stand outside the hotel and contemplate where to get food. We almost mug a pizza hug for his wares, but settle instead for a description of "the Farm Store" which has a selection of late night hick food. "Cold cuts, already made up!"
The drive to this place is /scary./ I proclaim it to be the Blair Witch road, but quickly change that to In The Mouth of Madness road, when we see a creepy guy riding his bike down the center of the asphalt. Wild dog in the parking lot. The Engineer only gets a drop of cheese on his lonely little hot dog.
Back to our hotel where we eat, watch a bad BAD BAD movie, then sleep. Morning is coming far too quickly.
Saturday: Up at NINE IN THE FUCKING MORNING to get to the other hotel for set up. How I love to blow past the line of losers waiting for passes with a wave of my vendor wristband (I didn't get a keen badge like everyone else did because they ran out). Everyone walking past has morning face. We have morning face. The celebrities have morning face.
Sometime in the afternoon, strange people in costumes show up. Creepy zombie scarecrow on stilts. TPG and I 'meep!' a lot and hide from his line of vision. I declare that if it comes near me, I'm going under the table. I can't handle masks and shit like that. Low and behold, the motherfucker shambles to our vicinity and I dive for the safetly of under the table.
Wackiness ensues, which involves him thinking this is very funny and calling his boys over: Zombie with his head in a cage and zombie with a hockey mask on. They decide to try and get under the table to get me. I'm screaming and laughing and brandishing a glass bottle at them. My table mates are almost peeing themselves, laughing. The Engineer is getting pissed because he thinks they won't leave me alone. And a crowd is forming.
'DO NOT FUCK WITH THE SCHIZOPHRENIC!!'
My angry Guido boyfriend finally scares them off. I peep out from under the table with everyone laughing at me. God, I have to pee. But, now those zombie guys are down the hall and right near the bathrooms! ARGH! JC has to pee, too. So, he and The Engineer go with me. I slink right behind hockey face zombie, trying to look for all the world like someone who is completely an adult and can handle people in masks. I have no shoes on and everyone seems ten feet taller than me. I'm beginning to become a little uncomfortable in the crowd. There's just too many people for my liking.
Heb and Jinx have sold quite a few of their dolls. TPG has sold many pins. I have done jack shit. People look at my dollies and exclaim how cute they are, but no one buys. We keep getting this one little goth girl with one eyebrow coming to our table, but she is indecisive and doesn't buy anything.
Grrr.
We decide at one point that TPG should produce a line of pins which are the entire text of the Necronomicon. One word at a time.
I want to lick the Hearses parked in the lot outside, to mark them as my territory.
This night ends and we decide to go to our hotel eatery, instead of ordering room service. The Discovery channel is showing all sorts of animal fuckery, which causes us to barely be able to breathe from all the laughing. Back to the room, to get changed for swimming. Jinx has on a pig head mask that he bought that day. Standing in front of TPG and I, tweaking his nipples and grinding a bottle of rum against his crotch. Pictures are taken. Heb grabs the mask and goes out on the balcony to scare the people across the way, which results in an accidential boob flashing. TPG and I have a conversation about non alcoholic beer and the ridiculousness of anyone wanting to drink beer, solely for the taste.
I only eat peyote for the taste. I'm addicted to drugs, so now I eat cow shit because I really miss the taste of peyote.
Down to the pool, in costume no less. Heb has the pig mask on. I've got a white towel wrapped around my head like Mother Teresa. TPG has her towl stuck down the front of her shorts like a loin cloth. We stand at the elevator and wait for it to open. As the doors slide, Heb peeps her head around them to scare the shit out of the lone guy standing in there. He does a good impression of believeing us to not exist, as Heb keeps inching along the wall closer to him. He becomes one with the corner.
HAH!
To the pool! With booze! The lifeguard informs us that we can't bring it in with us. The Engineer downs his Corona in one gulp, Jinx throw his glass of rum outside. We are rock stars.
Swimming in this pool is like swimming in bleach. Heb, TPG, and I gang up on Jinx to try and steal his pants. This results in me being head butted in the jaw.
Back up to our room, soggy and dripping, to dry off and watch Blade II. A drinking game is devised. You have to take a drink every time Wesley Snipes says a bad oneliner or does a gratuitious martial arts move. I fall asleep right after I finish only ONE STINKING BOTTLE of my lemonade, thereby missing a large portion of the movie. I'm woken up when it ends. Everyone goes to bed, but now I'm wide awake and forced, out of boredom, into watching Jerry Springer. Ahh, me.
Sunday: Packing up and heading back to the main hotel for our last day of vending. I still haven't sold a goddamn thing, other than Dani's Gothic.Net t-shirts. No sign of the creepy zombie things, thankfully. Breakfast involves Pledge tasting Eggs Benedict. Ick. We sit outside in shifts and I spend too much money (grand total for the weekend: the Tragedy Living Dead Doll, a long sleeve Nosferatu t-shirt, two toy Hearses, a copy of the movie 'Audition', and a CD for the Engineer).
We're all dragging our asses around, exhaustion is beginning to take its toll. Dani tries to convince me to go up to Tom Savini and say "Can I touch your gun, Sex Machine?" Instead, I make her do it.
FINALLY, I sell a doll. One lonely little doll. Emily, the one in the straightjacket, is sold to the goth girl with one eyebrow.
Sheesh.
I chat for a bit outside with one of the owner's of Great Jones, a store I have frequented up in New Hope. Later, he gives me a free pack of Nightmare Before Christmas party hats. Wheee! He seems cool enough.
End of the con. We pack up in five seconds and pull ourselves together. I'm starting to feel unreal and squirrelly from being in such unfamilar surroundings for so long, so I'm grateful to be heading home.
Home is headed for, but not before a Denny's stop somewhere in Maryland. No smoking, those Nazi bastards! Jinx regales us with tales of how he touches absolutely nothing in public bathrooms. We split up at the Delaware memorial bridge.
I sleep most of the ride home. heh.
On that note, I leave you with this.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2002-08-26 03:00 pm (UTC)*Rolls eyes*
Tsk tsk, Americans!
(One is reminded of the Monty Python joke "What's the similarity between American beer and sex in a canoe?- they're both fucking close to water")
(no subject)
Date: 2002-08-26 03:04 pm (UTC)Imported, domestic, from Mars, any and all of it. ICK!
(no subject)
Date: 2002-08-26 08:56 pm (UTC)