DINGERS! DINGERS!

Sure, I could get into an off tangent about how I saw 3 friends for the first time in years, or how management must love me because they put me with the crazy old people on one end of the building, or do a statistical breakdown of all the different freaks I saw about today.

But I MET KEVIN FUCKING SMITH, THE MACKDADDY OF FUCKING JERSEY, SO KISS THE RINGS, BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH!

I come back from lunch, and start positioning myself. Since I'd gotten bored earlier I was counting freaks, so I kept looking at the door, looking away, and so forth. Well, the door opens around 2 and I look, and before I can turn back I suddenly swing around back to the door. One-and-a-half take.

Kevin Smith.

He looks like John Cena, he's wearing this ludicrously pimpin' retro Harlem Globetrotters jacket, but it's KEVIN FUCKING SMITH. No posse, no limo, just a couple of other giddy fanboys getting shots. Smith's on already, master of the house, turning on the charm, ready with a handshake and an open palm. They get away from him. He's not supposed to show until tomorrow, in fact, this is so unplanned his own people didn't know (he's shooting a piece for Leno's shitty show so ah hell I'll actually have to watch for consecutive seconds). My original plan was to wait until tomorrow and try meeting him then but what am I, simple? I quickly advance and put my worksheet of the day (just like IYARI LIMON, Renner!) in his face. I said my name and a couple platitudes, but who the hell knows? This is one of the demigods of my world here! He looks at me and goes "Aren't you supposed to be working?" and without missing a beat I said "FUCK them!" Had I thought I had something more than 30 seconds I would've thrown in "Fuck them up their stupid asses!" but he's too busy chuckling and signing the back.

I shake his hand, and just that quick he's inside the actual convention.

And I get back to my desk, and I bust out my Brodie dance, and oh, yes, it is ever so good and sweet, much like a hug from Iyari Limon. In fact, after about 10 minutes I was angry because I had nowhere to gloat. But finally, I am here.

AND IT'S GLOATING TIME, BABY!

*BRODIE DANCE II ELECTRIC BOOGALOO*

TOMORROW! Halle Berry! Angelina Jolie! And Quiet Robert again, this time hopefully on my Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back DVD. Because he can sign, but I need room for two initals I plan on getting Sunday.

Sweet, glorious Sunday.

ELIZA D-DAY.

We now return you to your attempted viewing of the sailboat already in progress, nooch.