No Virus Keeps Me Down.

Instead of resting and recovering tonight, I opted to instead go into town and be a part of the Halifax comic scene.

At one point, if I had been carrying a video camera, I could have shot a 15 minute short feature, in one take, that would have won awards. Awards, I say. I would have titled this feature “The Mexican Circle Of Judgement”, and it would have brought Mike Drake, Halifax’s Best Salesman, to new levels of stardom on the short film circuit, not to mention cementing my place as the Jim Jarmusch of Halifax. Sadly, with no camera the moment was transient, to be shared only by those present, and perhaps more transcendant for its transcience. Ah well, “Death is the mother of Beauty” and all that.

Most of the stories from the night either wouldn’t be funny out of context, or simply can’t be repeated, so instead I offer a couple of photographs from inside the Shoe Shop. These are pathetic little phone photos, but you’ll get the idea.

The aforementioned Mike Drake (not, to my knowledge, affiliated with The Mike Drake Band.)

The All-Seeing Eye Of Comics, Chris Butcher, giving me the naughty finger, and somehow also blurring out the face of Andrew, his boyfriend. Chris & Andrew’s presence in Halifax was the excuse to gather in the first place. I must note, for the record, that Christopher Butcher can drink an entire pint of Guinness in one smooth and elegant swallow, a feat I would not have believed possible had I not seen it. He would have been a majestic B.O.A.T. racer.

Indie-comics heart-throb Bryan Lee O’Malley, somehow altered by gin and his protective headgear into someone completely different. (Note to self: bring gin to poker night. Get Mal’s money.)

And finally, Hope Larson, hereafter to be known only as “Hope Fucking Larson, the hottie from Flight” (heh).