this past weekend, i went to my first comicon. i thought it'd be bountiful with amazing costumes and various awesome nerdery. and oh, it was. it was, my friend. in spite of my declining vision i was able to snap a few of my favorite moments:
wanton and dancing bender:)
transformed into optimus primarily awesome.
principled soul sucker?
uh, yeah that's em-effing billy west. i was a tad nervous.
i'm embarrassed to say i don't know who this is. you remind me of megaman and i love cardboard.
to infinity and beyond what i can imagine spending on a costume. very cool though.
harley, you're part of a memory you don't even know about.
a man who implores you to kiss his shiny metal ass.
my favorite favorite. yodadorable.
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i was the girl who loved the get up kids (especially acoustic song versions) in high school, the more whimsical and mawkish the better. i hid her away safely when she became a liability--when boys and girls learned to be cruel and our parents unveiled themselves as oft more foolish than we as children. that identity forfeiture was a mistake; you can't deny inherent parts of yourself. a strong and callous character created is still a mere creation, and fortifying it with enough intricate details and isms to seem plausible is a struggle of schizophrenic proportions. indistinguishable sleeping and waking selves leave no room for raw, sincere moments. it's a miserable state of affairs to be so disaffected, to find the journey so dispensable because your suitcases are so burdensome.
i am the girl who loves the get up kids' sacharrine sound and still believes in true love.
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the shins will always be an audial hug.
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