Yesterday I attended Emerald City ComiCon with girlpirate. As anticipated, she is 30 points of awesome on a 10 point scale.

We saw:

-The world’s smudgiest Silver Surfer!

–goosezilla sellin’ wares and makin’ children cry!

-Unparalleled hotness!

(Jamie Bamber of Battlestar Galactica, girlpirate, and, of course, Obi Wan Kenobi) Jamie grabbed Obi Wan with the utmost poise and began making an academy award acceptance speech.

No Obi Wan, but with a spiffed up background because I couldn’t stand the total Searsification of the standard one. This. This is what I attended college for. You’re welcome.

After my picture, Jamie started cracking up because he was still thinking about Obi Wan, explaining that no one’s ever had him do that before, it was just so weird for him. I apologized for not bringing an action figure as well to normalize things, and he called after me “You weirdo!” while I departed in gleeful embarrasment.

We wandered around a bit more, girlpirate picked up a KHAAAAAN!! figurine, I ran into The Superhotness who’d just gotten back from filming The Troll for his documentary on unbookable comedians and informed me of the sad news that The Comedy Underground is closing for good on Tuesday. That sort of breaks my heart as the Underground is my favorite club in Seattle. Giggles and Mainstage don’t even come close. I’ll be there on Tuesday. I suggest you do the same, and help me bid farewell to yet another legendary venue.

We dropped in on the second half of Jamie Bamber’s panel–I stepped out a bit before the end to get some water, but unfortunately witnessed someone nigh-tongue-kissing the spigot so that nixed THOSE plans. I returned in time to hear that they were keeping the back door shut and the con attendees inside in order to ‘escort the guest out’. girlpirate reported that the girl inside was extremely overzealous about her job, shoving her palm out at people and practically shouting that no one was allowed to leave.

Overzealous ‘security’ guards make us both giggle, so when we headed over to Gameworks for a much-needed drink, we sat in the comfy chairs over by the window and enacted an experiment to see how everyday passersby would react to a palm being shoved at them.

Results proved inconclusive. Some people waved. Some people were leery of both palm and camera. Some people flat out ignored us. Some people, I believe, were intrigued by the pirate hat. How would this replicate under laboratory conditions?

The only scientific thing any of this proved is that a little booze made us BOTH feel better. Oh, science.

Last night, Jez and I went to the Mariners/Rangers game; his manager was too busy and couldn’t go, so the tickets were thrust upon him in some sort of odd work-bro gesture.

They were really decent seats, but I’ve realized something:

Without alcohol, BASEBALL IS BORING.

That is, until the fight broke out.

The Rangers pitcher threw a pitch awfully close to Richie ‘Big Sexy’ Sexon. Sexon’s response was to charge the mound, throw his helmet at the pitcher, and start whaling on him.

Please note: I did not take the above picture, I had stowed my camera and it took me a few seconds of stunned fumbling to get it out again.

By the time I got my camera out, the field was the definition of a clusterfuck. But more of a ‘break it up’ clusterfuck than an all-out rumble, which was a little disappointing.

At this point, the catcher started trying to start some shenanigans, and his teammate wasn’t having any of it. So the teammate PICKED HIM UP to carry him off-field.

I love that he’s carrying the guy and screaming at him at the same time.

National pastime, indeed!