This weekend’s contest was difficult to judge for a few reasons. First off, there were less than 200 entries, which means that you guys either have extraordinary social skills or have crossed the border from potential stalker into restraining order territory a long time ago. (I’ll take some responsibility here and just put out that possibility that maybe you just hated this contest). Then there’s the fact that although I asked very nicely, pretty much every worthwhile entry was lengthy lengthy long long wordy verbose. I know I stated in my rules that I would judge these types of entry harshly, but again, the best ones tended to be the in-depth stories. So I eased up my restrictions a bit. Live and learn I suppose,
Several of you mentioned in the comments that you had nothing for this week, I totally understand and hopefully you’ll be able to take part in the next contest. As for those of you who did participate, well you leave me in awe…and more than just a little bit frightened. Thanks to all of you who took part this week. Your honorable mentions and winners are after the jump!
Here are your honorable mentions:
I was at my first convention a few years ago,
Wizard World Philadelphia. It was really blowing my mind and lots of
fun, and then I encountered someone dressed like Batman. Not a celebrity
or anything, just someone dressed like Batman.
I still don’t
know why to this day…maybe it was just the excitement going to my
head…but I proceeded to chase this stranger around yelling “BATMAN!
BATMAN, I LOVE YOU! PLEASE TAKE A PICTURE WITH ME!”
He never did pose for a picture with me, but I can’t really blame him.
Does the time I accidentally called Gary Gygax as a wrong number count?
I was playing Dragon Quest 8, and was constantly running off to chase after the appearances of errant treasure chests scattered upon its overworld map. This time though, there was a particular chest that, despite how far I ran, I couldn’t seem to find a way to reach it.
It was at this time that I uttered “God I need you…”. My sister, whom I didn’t notice walking up, just stepped into my line of sight as I said this, and immediately looked at me in a way that well… is hard to explain. After a quick explanation, we laughed it off and refer to it jokingly nowadays, but I keep my pleas to those tramp treasures silent now…
I was at the Arizona Star Wars Con in 1997. I was 12 years old and completely out of my mind at the fact that there was a convention to just Star Wars in my town. The guest list was pretty cool but the best guest, the reason I dragged my goofy ass to the con (Aside from trivia contests) was JEREMY FREAKIN’ BULLOCH. BOBA.FETT.
I followed his every step through the Con with ridiculous stealth. I thought I was hunting the greatest hunter in the galaxy. I guarantee everyone saw me and knew exactly what I was doing, but I was convinced I was a ninja.
I couldn’t wait in the line outside the air conditioned tent the guests were all huddled inside, I had to meet him sooner! So I did was any obsessed kid-fan would do. Climbed under the side of the tent and nearly took out a display case. I beelined past a shouting guard and ran right up to Jeremy, telling him how much I loved his work and that how awesome he made the character of Boba Fett. He smiled, started to say something and then I got dragged outside flailing. TOTALLY WORTH IT.
I once emailed Christie Golden (author of a few Star Trek books) about getting my name as a character. 8 times.
Would you believe it if I said this was actually Urkel related? This one time I was visiting Los Angeles and I was eating alone at a Starbucks. Jaleel White (who plays Urkel on Family Matters) walked in, ordering a latte. He sat down in the table next to mine and I began to just stare at him for a long time, because at the time, I wasn’t sure who he was but he looked familiar. Jaleel seemed to know something was up but he said nothing. Eventually, I shrugged and gave up trying to figure out who he was and then it hit me and I shouted “OH RIGHT YOU’RE THE GUY!” Jaleel nearly spilled his latte and looked up at me, nervously. “…Y-yeah…” I was so embarrassed and I ran out, never to see him again.
Hey, you guys want to hear the creepy, awkward story about how I gained a fianc? through the, uh, power of bad fanfic? Sure you do! I read his online journal and became infatuated. He wouldn’t talk to me because he thought I was so creepy. So, behind his back, I manipulated his friends by offering to proofread their terrible fanfic and participated in fan-ish activities in order to gain their trust, desperately hoping that they would put in good word to him for me. It worked!
Now, eight years later, I’m engaged to that guy. Proof that internet stalking works and bad fanfic is good for something other than our horrified amusement! The worst thing is thing is, when people ask how I ended up engaged to an older dude who moved from several states away to be with me, the best I can say is “Uh, online.” Not even our parents know how it really went down because the truth is really creepy.
It’s the Memorabilia show in Birmingham (the one in England). I’m guessing 2005-ish. I’m buying weird Japanese cat-themed hentai and Saved By The Bell dolls (I got Slater!) when all of a sudden one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen walks past, flanked by a couple of very big men. I grab my friend and we slyly start to follow her, waiting for the perfect moment for me to pounce. After an eternity (or 10 minutes, I forget), I spy an opportunity, go in and start with my tried-and-tested (but not particularly successful) chat-up routine. She turns round, looks at me and says something along the lines of “Aw, you’re cute but I have a boyfriend. Sorry!”, smiles and walks away. I, however, am too stunned to do anything, as it turns out I’d been trying to hit on Eliza Dushku…
I still haven’t lived it down.
I once used the same public toilet as Matt Groening. The seat was still warm.
When I was kid, I really, really, really loved the (Marvel) Transformers comic book. Way more than the cartoon (and I now own the DVD box set). However, I really, really, really hated Bombshell, the Insecticon, in the comic. I decided to vent my frustration by sending a letter to Marvel, handwritten, with only two words on it: KILL BOMBSHELL! written in pencil in huge letters. It looked like a serial killer had written it. I was 11. I never got a response.
I read a book and thought it was pretty good, but had a few questions about some of the things the author touched on. I found his address, wrote a letter, asked the questions, and included a line about how I was a fan of his work… most of his work. He replied, pissed off about people only being fans of “most of” his work, spent the better part of a page grumbling about that, but he did answer the questions and we’ve shared a few letters since then.
The author? Theodore J. Kaczynski. Better known as the Unabomber.
I have been informed by my lawyers not to enter into this week’s contest.
After seeing Alien for the first time I became obsessed with Sigourney Weaver. My obsession with her became so great that when I was 16 I had my bedroom plastered with pictures of her. My parents began to worry at this point, but my mother threatened to send me to a psychologist after she walked in on me masturbating to a cropped up picture I made of her. I took a center-fold of a model out of playboy, and cut up Sigourney’s head and placed it on the body. My mother tore down my Sigourney shrine and made me surrender my jerk picture. Sad, update – a couple of years later I found the same cropped up picture I made in my parents garage hanging in my step-dads tool box….
A friend and I went to a local renaissance faire a year ago. As we stood outside the gates watching the pre-show, I was people watching and looking at everyone’s costumes. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a brown/tan trench coat weaving between people. Before I could make out the person they disappeared in the crowd. A few minutes later I look behind me and there he is, a random person dressed up as the 10th doctor (which really is quite fitting at a renaissance faire isn’t it?). I told him I loved his outfit and he smiled and continued on his way. Then I realized my mistake, I didn’t ask for a photo. Eventually the gates opened and I dragged my friend through and made her wait by the entrance in hopes we could find the doctor again. I spotted him after fifteen minutes of waiting around, ran up to him and grabbed his hand, dragging him away from his girlfriend and asked if I could get a picture with him. He reluctantly agreed. I convinced him (more like demanded) to let me pose for the photo with his sonic screwdriver and he hesitantly handed it over. I got the photo and he ran off, never to be seen again. So ultimately I stalked and manhandle
d a man dressed as the 10th doctor. Imagine what I’d do if I came across David Tennant.
Kind of lame, mine. I ‘m a huge fan of the voice actor Todd Haberkorn. I’ve met him a few times at conventions, to the point that he remembers me when he sees me, and not in a “oh, god, not this guy again”. A couple months ago, he posted a story on his Facebook page about how someone had posted about him in a forum. A post which included the phrase “moat people say hes single tho. Thats good. Then I can go raep him.” He expressed his genuine concern. He wondered who these “moat people” were, and what they wanted. Well, it became a bit of a thing on the Facebook page, and people started making pictures and whatnot in regards to Moat People, the race of sewer dwellers who rape voice actors. After about a week, I decided to join in on the fun by turning the whole goddamn thing into a personal challenge. I would create something so magnificent that it would never be topped. I spent hours working on a photoshopped image of Todd Haberkorn’s head on the poster for blade runner. I didn’t bother with the watercolor saturation, but did manage to keep the lens flare off of Harrison Ford’s gun intact and uncovered. It looked excellent and I posted it immediately after finishing it. A few other changed I made were the “me gusta” face over the replicant’s head, and the title was, of course, changed to Moat People (another feat of which I was particularly proud). I was proud of it, and suffered no embarrassment, everyone was just too impressed. Todd re-posted it, praising me in the comments, and all I could feel was ecstatic pride. How much time did I put into that picture? All for a chuckle and an accolade from an American voice actor? In the end I had fun doing it, so it didn’t really matter to me that I wasted hours on it. I met Todd again a few months later. He brought up the poster I’d made and mentioned that he couldn’t believe how awesome it was. That was when it hit me. My response was as follows: “It was awesome. It was so awesome. It’s probably the most awesome thing I have ever done in my life. That is not a good thing.”
December 2004: my boyfriend at the time and I were at the Dallas International Airport, waiting for our flight to Boston. To kill the time, we walked from one end of the airport to the other. On our way back to our gate, I saw Jude Law sitting in a golf cart in the middle of one of the thoroughfares – I pointed him out to my boyfriend (who didn’t believe me), so we approached him. Before we got to him, a security guard got into the cart and started driving off. Instead of giving up, we followed him until the cart stopped – sometimes we had to run to keep up, but since it was Christmastime and super busy, he never got up to top speed. Eventually, Jude noticed we were following him (he was kind of facing us, so it was hard not to notice). He leaned back and said something to the driver, and almost immediately, two security guys popped out of nowhere and asked us to return to our gate. Jude got off the cart, and went through an unmarked door off the hallway. We were herded back in the direction of our gate, and didn’t see him again after that.
Three days later, I read in the paper that he had proposed to Sienna Miller on Christmas day – in true stalker fashion, I told my boyfriend that we were somehow part of that because we saw him before he flew out to London. He laughed in my face.
I’m currently in Rob Bricken’s closet.
About a year ago, I was living in Eugene, OR, working at a fine dining restaurant as a busser. I remember it well: it was a sleepy Wednesday night. I figured I would be sent home within the hour because of how slow it was. I was rounding the corner of the restaurant, headed to reset a table or what not, and I almost bumped into a tall, broad, dark-haired man. “Excuse me”, we both said. And then I had a double take.
Was it? No. Was it?? I ran to the hostess. “Ashley, table 30. Did they have a reservation?!”
“Uh, I guess. Why?”
“What is the name at the table?”
“Lemme check…Campbell. Why?”
I couldn’t believe it. Bruce. Fucking. Campbell. And his family.
I proceeded to covertly inform every person working at the restaurant, but aside from my friend, who was washing dishes for the night, and a cook, no one had any idea who the fuck he was. The three of us were in back, basically freaking the fuck out, then I would walk back outside and calmly refill Bruce’s water, or take his plates, hoping that he wouldn’t notice my hands shaking. For a moment, when I took his glass from him, our fingers touched.
I think he knew, really. When he left he gave me a knowing look and a nod. “Thanks, man. Seeyah” he said.
I texted all my friends, and three people, including my father, texted me the same response: “Did you try and kiss him?”
Whatever. It was the best night at work.
I live near London, England which means moments like this don’t exactly come up often. Recently we’ve had the Harry Potter studio tour open around the corner. I was in my underpants on my sofa (the usual) when on Facebook my friend posted that Nathan Fillion was in our town. I then proceeded to jump up, grab my Firefly boxset and run out the house while calling him to find out more details. I had managed to get to the end of the driveway before noticing I was still suffering from a severe lack of the bottom half of my clothing, After running back in to get dressed I found out he was visiting the Harry Potter tour as he’d posted it on twitter. For me this was an amazing opportunity to shake hands with the Captain and I didn’t want to let it pass.Unfortunately I was too late and he had left the tour by the time I got there. Unfortunately this story doesn’t include me acting inappropriately and unnerving anyone but it does involve semi nudity and me running around a studio looking for Mal so I felt it was worth telling.
So, my friend and I each had a table at this con in PA. We were told it was a comic book convention, turns out it was a giant toy show with random “celebrity” guests like Ghostbuster Ernie Hudson.
My buddy goes to use the restroom, and comes back with a huge grin. He explained that he was standing at the urinal, looked over and realized Ernie was at the next one over. They kind of nodded at each other, and before he can stop himself, my friend just blurts out “Don’t cross the streams!”
We got weird looks for the rest of the con, since our tables were basically right across from Mr. Hudson.
In high school, during the first or second week of my sophomore year, I was walking down the hall to get to class, and passed through the junior’s section of lockers. I glanced over and saw a guy putting stuff in a locker decorated with anime posters–specifically, a Record of Lodoss War one, among others. I freaked out (anime wasn’t cool 12 years ago) and decided I had to meet this guy. Problem was, I was a quiet, pathetic nerd, and he was cute.
A few days later, I’d pretty much spent all my free time between classes trying to see this kid again. Finally I did, and I got the courage up and walked up to him and blurted out “Hey, cool poster!” And promptly ran away.
Eventually we officially met, and thanks to my friend butting in, started dating. Turns out I kinda knew him from work (family-owned local video store that specializes in anime), and I found his phone number in the video store database by looking up his last name and looking for the account that rented a bunch of anime, and called him one day. He asked me how I got his phone number. That was an awkward conversation.
12 years later, we’re s
till married. 🙂 And that bastard is at Anime Expo right now, meeting Steven Jay Blum. But he’s getting an autograph for me, so it’ll be okay.
Over the past few years, I’ve become a big fan of a lot of Channel Awesome shows, one in particular being Atop the Fourth Wall. They’re the type of reviews I’ve always wanted to myself, if I wasn’t that much of a procrastinating dick.
Then when I noticed one the upcoming comics Linkara was about to do for his show (for now, I won’t say which one), & for some reason, for that comic, I just…I was compelled to help out. Possessed, even. Maybe it was that I just wanted to help out so badly, maybe it was just to test out my own skill, but somehow, I had now found myself with a download of the comic, & spent the entire night looking it over & writing down any jokes/humorous observations, then sent it all to Linkara in hopes of helping out.
After that, even I knew what I did felt like a borderline stalker moment. I nervously awaited any potential fallout.
“Okay, I need to say this ahead of time and you’re going to get something very special from me because I’m going to need evidence to support this but… 90% of everything you said here I already say in the review. XD”
Apparently, we both commented on a lot of the same stuff, & even joked about wondering if I didn’t steal anything from him! And attached to that e-mail was a copy of the script he had made for the show already…Because he needed evidence that he didn’t steal jokes from me. And he politely asked me to refrain from doing this again (he was indeed kind, & had a nice sense of humor about it). Kind of flattering, actually. Plus, I got a collectible out of it! But yeah, my bizarre bit of fandom definitely made me feel like a stalker & I vowed never to do anything like that again with folks on the internet I admired, a promise that I kept for almost an entire year.
I’m a Minnesotan and as we all know there are several nerd gods that live in the land of 10,000 lakes. Well, one day I was walking from my bus stop, past a sports bar when I heard a voice that sounded familiar. As I walked by the outdoor seating I saw Mike Nelson, he of MST3K fame, sitting at a table with a couple of other dudes with a pitcher of beer. I’m terrible in these kinds of situations so I just stood still for a moment and made a strangled noise in my throat. At the noise Mike looked up and he must have recognized the look in my eyes because he got this look on his face that was almost like a grimace and waved at me. After this there was an exchange I’ll never forget.
“Hi there.” Mike said like the sweetest guy in the world while I stared wide eyed and gurgling. “Nice weather huh?”
I nodded before he took a pen out of his pocket and signed a napkin (which I have framed). I stuttered for a second before my verbal paralysis suddenly lifted and I went on a twenty minute gush about how wonderful Mike was and MST3K was and how I can only watch the Twilight and Transformers films if he mocks them. It was a travesty but he just sat there like a champ and smiled at me the whole time while his friends chuckled. Suddenly I remembered that I was a lowly nerd and shut up while Mike continued to smile at me and he shushed his friends. Once they were quiet he looked at me and said, with all seriousness.
“Do you have a phone?” I nodded and handed it to him, not thinking at the time and he handed it to his friend and he smiled as he waved me close and in an act of kindness or extreme neglect for his own safety he stood next to me while his friend took a picture. After the picture he gave me a hug, wished me luck then explained that he was in the middle of dinner but that it was great to meet me. I grinned but before I left the bar I went in and paid for nachos that I had delivered to his table as a thank you. This is all sweet and awesome until I go to leave and pass his table again. He says goodbye and I looked at him and said the only that popped in my head. I lifted up my phone and grinned, creepily.
“It’s not goodbye. I’ll be seeing ‘you’ later.”
It wasn’t until later that I realized just how wrong that comment had been and the look of horror on Mike’s face.
(Sorry this is so long. I needed the sweet to get to the creepy)
And now for the winners!
I once saw Patrick Stewart’s balls.
Let me rewind a bit, I was attending college as a theatre major, and we got a chance to see Patrick Stewart with the Royal Shakespeare Company’s dress rehearsal of ANTONY & CLEOPATRA, and by some luck, I was right in front of the stage. The set extended out into the audience, so I had to look up to see the actors. So anyway, Patrick Stewart comes out as Mark Antony, and he is amazing. It’s everything you’d expect, I’m seeing a professional who is so trained in his craft that he doesn’t even flinch when… his balls come loose of his undergarments, and are exposed to the few within eye range of his crotch. Well, ME.
I let out an audible “…goddamnit.” and he moves to a new spot, never missing a beat, and exits as the play allows.
The rest of the show runs great, all the performers are at the top of their game, the actor playing the role of the messenger is hilarious and steals the scenes he’s in, I had not read this play so I got to see it for the first time being performed by the best of the best.
At intermission I discover that I AM THE ONLY PERSON WHO SAW PATRICK STEWART’S BALLS. And I won’t let it go.
Fast forward to a few months later when I’m studying in London. I’m taking a tour of the globe, and I see the actors rehearsing THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. The tour group is held up by another tour group before, and some of the actors ask us how we’re enjoying ourselves. I recognize one of the actors rehearsing as the hilarious messenger from the show I saw …Patrick Stewart in. I say to him, “Hey! I just saw you in Antony & Cleopatra in Ann Arbor!” he says “Oh yeah? What the fuck you doin’ in London, mate?”
The tour starts moving, but I ask him if we’d be able to talk shop when he’s not at work, and I’d buy him a drink, we agree on a place & time later that week.
We’re at this coffee place across from the Globe, his name is Craig, super nice guy, we talk about the business for a bit, and he asks “What did you think of the production in Ann Arbor?” And I tell him about ……what I saw. He starts laughing really quite loud and says finally, “Oh, that’s ok. Most of us have seen his balls.”
THAT WOULD’VE BEEN ENOUGH! BUT!
A few years ago when Marina Sirtis is at Motor City Comic Con, I can’t help but tell this story to her. I censored it and said I saw a “wardrobe malfunction” and she says “OH MY GOD, THAT WAS YOU THAT SAW IT?!? I HAVE TO CALL HIM AND TELL HIM I HEARD THE REST OF THE STORY!” Then she goes on about how they talk regularly, and he’d told her about how he may have inadvertently exposed himself to a group of students! How he wasn’t sure if it was a group of teenagers and be in trouble with the police, or if it was just one person or… Anyway, she said she would call him and tell him, then asked if I was going to be around tomorrow to fill in the rest of the story once she’d talked to him. I said I would.
Well, the next day I talked to her, and she hadn’t been able to get in touch with him, but that she’d tell him all about my side later.
This means Patrick Stewart may or may not know of me as “That guy who he showed his balls to in a production of Shakespeare.”
Congrats Stevo, your testicle sighting not only became a topic of conversation amongst Picard and Troi themselves but also ea
rned you a TR shirt. Well done indeed sir.
Whilst at University, I lived quite close to Alan Moore. You’d see him wandering around town occasionally – most people looked a little freaked out by him, and he was kind of an imposing presence, not someone you’d want to go up to and ask to autograph your League of Extraordinary Gentlemen DVD…
Anyway… to the stalker moment. I once followed him round Asda and, when he was getting something from a shelf, stole a tin of beans from his trolley. I still have Alan Moore’s Baked Beans on my nerd-shelf.
All of the entries were worthwhile, but Mr. Page here put his life on the line when he swiped some beans from Alan Moore’s shopping cart. Dude is so lucky he didn’t get caught and transformed into a newt. Anyways, enjoy your shirt. Maybe you can display it next to the beans?
Thanks again to everyone who entered. And remember, you can attempt to make your dreams of earning your own TR shirt come true this Friday when another contest starts!