So finally leaving Black Widows at arond 3am, we make our way home so sleep may be had before an important meeting. The Manifest Organising Committee meeting.

Only slightly less corrupt, and with substantially less money than the International Olympic Committee, MOC put on Melbourne’s best anime convention, Manifest, and I am the titular head this year… Go me….

If you have suggestions, or simply like to draw pornography involving our mascot, Peppa Chan, by all means please send that in by email, or just comment down below. Here’s a picture for reference purposes if you’re doing the porn. Preferably somethign with tentacles please.

In the past these meetings have been an exercise in tedium. To most extents, they still are, only now thanks to my iron fist, we don’t spend 150 minutes arguing about who was meant to pay for a fucking P.O. Box.

But the whole point of mentioning this? Seriously. If you like anime, and have some suggestions of what we should do at the largest dedicated anime festival in the country, I’m open to suggestions…
I may also be attempting to rank for longtails in SERP, but that’s a tech joke… or is it?

With the meeting over, I met up with Wade. For those of you that are unaware, Wade is one of my three dopplegangers (see photo). If you are interested in some Dr. Manhattan Action, again, the comment box is below… I’ll be the one still working in the tool shed. 

To explain, Wade is what I would have become if I remained single and never went to university.
Much like J.L. is what I would have become if I gave a crap about career climbing, or that guy in QLD is what I would be if I hadn’t aged for the last decade.
That is to say, amazingly sleazy and with a bizarrely fucked up, yet compellingly hilarious, sex life, which is soon to be turned into a web comic, line of merchandise, and perhaps children’s book.

The comic will be called Wadeing in the Gene Pool. Technically, there is meant to be a site for it, but I haven’t had the time to go through all the shit to set it up, as my hosting has sent me through all kinds of shenanigans lately. Wade & I  sat for an hour, over some Nandos because hot stories require hot sauce, and discussed. I would offer you an excerpt now, like I promised yesterday, only I also have broken my only 3.5mm Male/Male audio lead, and will be getting a new one this weekend… Oooh, anticipation!

We’ll be attempting to make the audio a weekly podcast the moment the site is up. Ladies, or Lady Boys, if you’re interested you can even become part of Season 2.

Finally I decided it being the last night of the Comedy Festival, I should try to get in one more show. I am now horribly horribly morose because there’s nothing, NOTHING, funny in my life now… My art career can now continue apace. This is especially important in light of the show’s title: Comicide.

No, they weren’t killing Communists. It was a series of running sketches about those socially awkward moments that kill your social life and any chance you might ever have at having happiness. Fucking hilarious… Especially the sketch about a guy having to flee to Siberia for getting the Transformers transforming sound wrong. If you have a chance to see these guys, sink a few drinks, and get in there.

And then, home again home again cry myself to sleep…

You might also like to read:

1. Black Widows, White Weddings & Trips to the Brothel (pt2)
2. Black Widows, White Weddings & Trips to the Brothel (pt1)
3. Black Widows (26/09/09)
4. The Last Black Widows [VIC]

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