Give me a holiday weekend, and I’ll pack it so full of activities that I’ll slouch into work Tuesday morning, more exhausted than ever. I really have no one other than myself to blame; Friday and Saturday night, I was out until 5 and 4am, respectively, laughing and chatting with jimhark, poetrix618, and amazoni. Somehow, jimhark beat me at Apples to Apples AGAIN, and, as I am the sorest loser who ever was sore, this sort of aggression will not stand.

I’d intended on going to Crypticon on Saturday, but found myself dragging and in no condition to attend. On Sunday, I forced myself out of bed and to the Doubletree–as someone nuts enough about the horror genre to watch a horror movie per day during the month of October, this convention was really put on for me, and I’d be remiss not to attend.

It was small. Really small. Blink-and-you’ll-miss-it small. For all that, they managed to book some very awesome guests and some kickass vendors. Much to my embarrassment, I missed daemonwolf–I remember her entries about MAKING her bone mask, I remember SEEING a bone mask at the con, noting how cool it was and making a mental note that I should tell her about it later, yet somehow I couldn’t connect the dots and realize it actually WAS her. Once again, I’ll choose to lay blame somewhere other than on myself, and shake my fist in someone’s general direction.

Here she is with Sid Haig!

That guy is such a dick, but in a very awesome way. He just doesn’t give a fuck. Bill Moseley, on the other hand, is one of the nicest guys ever–more than happy to talk with you at length about damn near anything. As it turns out, he’s done a bunch of work with Buckethead, releasing albums under the name ‘Cornbugs’; as someone who considers herself well-versed in both Buckethead AND Bill Moseley’s catalogues, I do have to admit some embarrassment in not knowing about this earlier.

If only the line were “…daddy like” it’d be absolutely perfect.

I spent most of my time at the con in the movie room, watching ‘The Devil’s Rejects’, which gets better every time I watch it. Afterward, Bill and Sid came into the room and did a Q&A session, which was incredibly awesome, aside from one douche/freakazoid (seriously, no one give this guy a gun) who apparently believed that it was his opportunity to have a private conversation with both of them and attempted to dominate the panel at every turn. Eventually, someone who appeared to be his girlfriend (thusly proving that there CAN be someone for everyone out there) practically clapped a hand over his mouth and other people managed to get questions in. People do this to comics as well. Point of etiquette: Unless you are invited to speak, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Bill had mentioned earlier that one of his scenes with Priscilla Barnes was particularly harrowing to do, and so my question was how they put themselves in a mental place to do those sorts of intensely horrifying things in such a believable manner, as showing their discomfort whatsoever would’ve pushed the movies into camp. Bill’s response was that particularly violent scenes were a lot like the invisible bridge in Indiana Jones; more than anything, you have to trust yourself and the people around you to get to where you want to be, and hopefully make something worthwhile.

Also, for anyone who saw ‘Grindhouse’, ‘Werewolf Women of the SS’ might be made into an expanded feature!

Yesterday, I participated in the act of honoring our veterans by eating delicious grilled meats with v1c1ous and co; my goddamned neighbors did the same with some extremely loud mariachi music and a velociraptor triathalon.