It's a month after the fact, but I thought I'd post a few sketches I did for the good folks who came by my table at this years Comic-Con.
Unfortunately I wasn't able to take much flicks of all the sketches I did this year. It's not that I was ill-prepared. OK, maybe just a bit. But I believe that the fates conspired against me. Must be karma for all the times I used the bathroom and, instead of washing my hands, I just ran the water to simulate the effect of actually washing my hands. Go figure.
Anyhoo, Jenn and I had just moved to our new place in San Diego. Awesome place, if we had electricity. You see, there was a mishap with the electric company and the place had no power. And the next available appointment to get it switched on was the following Thursday. We had arrived on a Friday evening, making it about a week ahead of us with no freakin' electricity! Luckily we had running water, just no hot water. So what can you do without electricity? Well, you can't watch TV. You can't bake cookies. You can't take a dump at night. And you can't use your Mac to finish prints you'll be selling at the upcoming Comic-Con and print them out. The only ounce of electricity we had was the car battery, which we used to charge our cell phones while we aimlessly drove around uncharted territory. Until the car battery died. Don't let the size of a car battery fool you. Those damn things way a freakin' ton! Especially when you got to haul the fucking thing on a forty-five minute hike back home. Of course, it was no problem for these guns of mine (kisses biceps).
In the end, we prevailed. It was a true test of character. A week later, as I was on my way out to the first day of the Con, I realized something strange about the place I parked my truck. It seemed kinda empty. So I walked closer hoping that it may magically appear, but clearly it wasn't there. Turns out it got towed. Towed for not having one of those resident parking stickers that I should have had on but didn't because I had no idea I needed one since the security guard at the front kept waving me in every time I drove by as if I lived there and knew all the rules but clearly didn't since I had no sticker and I could have been some random guy about to rob some poor bastards house because the security guard whose salary is being paid for by our home owners monthly payment just waved me in, without a sticker! Do you see where this is all fucked up? I ended up arriving at the con 4 hours late after paying $150 to get my truck back.
So what's the moral of this story? Wash your hands after you use the bathroom. Every time.
all images © 2005 Erwin Haya, unless otherwise noted.