During my brother’s ballroom dance finals, there was another event taking place a few miles toward ‘one no-tree-hill’ called Armageddon — A pulp culture nerd magnet expo — naturally I couldn’t resist.
I was alone, again, but I had Kaig in mind so I soldiered on through the crowds of prepubescent tweens and chattering know-it-all buffs to hunt down a pile of Hulk comics for my brother – The Incredible Hulk being his favourite Marvel superhero:
I found what I was searching for (7 items in all), also checked out some wicked steampunk Rayguns made by Weta Workshop’s very own Dr Grordbort:
I immediately detected the warp signatures from New Zealand’s very own Star Trek Fan Club: (why am I not in this?)
I even smelt the liquor from Artoo’s exhaust vents; malfunctioning Astromechs are funny:
Bumped into a friend too, or rather, she bumped into my butt! The only other place I found intriguing enough to go over to was the small two-womaned stand in the corner — NZ’s answer to roller derby — The Pirate City Rollers!
It was definitely a queer Bliss Cavendar moment. The woman in black handed me a flyer, which I kept on my dresser all month-long. Not meant as flattery, just saying; I still have crap on there from four months ago.
I had no reason not to go to this. So I did, after spending a great day with the fam of course – cheers sis.
The (hawt) woman I was sitting next to complimented my bracelet, among other things, but she was so drunk she forgot about her man-servant sitting beside her. Sure it was an awkward moment, and yet very settling lolz for me at least. Don’t know what the other guy was thinking. Lucky son*f%$@#!*
[the following photos are courtesy of the Pirate City Rollers/photographers]
Lucy in Disguise was a favourite, as was the pro-dancer babe on wheels in the yellow helmet; totally missed her name…
Also, I doubt anyone from Dead Wreckoning will actually read this, but, a few years ago at a party at esplanade, I dressed up as a mime and I’m pretty certain one of YOU made a silent pass and groped my junk in the hallway. I’m not pointing any fingers here, but I am looking at you skull face! Grrrrr. Totally raped my pride that night. I want it back!
From aggressive body talk, fierce facials, badass uniforms right down to kickass names; both Dead Wreckoning and Mascara Massacre meant business:
One patron; let’s call her Bangel, felt the final bout was completely rubbish…“boring to watch, no doubt boring to play. Loopholes in the rules should not be exploited at any cost. Dead Wreckoning’s strategy was arrogant and selfish, and didn’t do anything to promote the sport. Bah humbug!” [facebook rip]
Wait, so RD can be better than what I saw? Cool! How about some indoor pyrotechnics next time then huh?
Long story short: I really enjoyed the atmosphere. I would have enjoyed myself more if I wasn’t alone sitting next to the flattering booze-fish, but still. Next year I wouldn’t mind getting more involved in Roller Derby, as a fan or maybe more. Who’s keen? You know I’m buying!
🎭 