Comics make me wet.

I went to see Iron Man this morning. Well-acted, sharply written and generally exciting, it very much lives up to the hype.

However, it is the highpoint of a surprisingly disappointing day. Yesterday, I snag a free pass to see Speed Racer. Today, I head up to the theater, but the bus was running slow. I can't get in because no one will be admitted after the screening starts. (10:30 on the dot? That's unrealistic.) I piss, moan, fume and wait for my legs to stop aching as I sit outside the theater, cursing the incompetence of the people by whom I'm surrounded.

After the movie lets out, I head to a comic book store. At that point, it starts raining, but it's Free Comic Book Day (TM). I'm gonna let a couple drops stop me? Yeah, right! I get there, but the pickings are mighty slim. I snag a "Simpsons" comic and a discounted back issue of Evan Dorkin's "Dork" (not for all tastes, BTW, but pretty funny).

I take a bus across the city (as the rain becomes more insistent) hoping that the variety of free titles is wider at the city's other major retailer. As it turns out, this was not to be. In another example of how ludicrous the whole 'early bird-worm' theory is to everyone else, there was very little of interest. Even more, the latest issues of the titles I usually get (PVP, True Story Swear to God, She-Hulk) are not to be found. (By this point, I'm soaked to the bone. I didn't want to spend the ride home thinking, 'this is so going in the blog'; I didn't want to be dorky and anti-social. Well, fuck it. I'm going to be dorky and anti-social.)

Part of the joy of buying comic books is dying; the thrill of looking on a shelf in a store. I am now reduced (as with soundtrack shopping) to hunting on the internet. The impersonality of the situation goes without saying.

All told, this is a fuck of a note on which for my vacation to go out.