Here’s what I wanted to do last weekend: Long Beach Comic-Con. Miles of back issues, short sleeve-appropriate weather, and that Islands across the street that I have, for some inexplicable reason, fallen completely and hopelessly in love with. (Seriously, it’s WAY BETTER than all the other Islands. They put crack in the ranch dressing or something.)

Don’t these people look like they’re having fun?

Here’s what I ended up doing instead: UnCon.

Because the magazine I work for decided they wanted “colorful” “coverage” of a “grassroots” “fan-run” convention. I nearly “retched.”

Anyway. I’ve actually been to UnCon before and there is some fun to be had. I mean, it’s one of the few cons that doesn’t have a major Hollywood presence at this point (unless you want to count the panel on “the growing sparklefic phenomenon,” which featured a handful of slash writers and the scariest Robert Pattinson impersonator I have ever seen). The focus is definitely on comics and books and big-time geek love. I could use a little more of that in San Diego, y’know?

And I did buy some shit. More Annihilation trades, because I can’t seem to get enough of the ANNIHILATING. Patsy Walker: Hellcat, because Kathryn Immonen is awesome. And some black and white “real people” comics from these folks, because I’m a sucker for a storyline that involves a Louise Brooks bob.

So yeah, I guess I had an okay time.

That said? Avoid the Klingon Karaoke. Avoid it like the fucking plague.