He is Chelis. We are Chelis. Send help.
It's been over two weeks already? Jeez, I feel I just came home yesterday. Days spent with friendos just aren't the same as the days you spend with close horsefuckers and hard cunts. I've been to a few cons in my time, but Pacific PonyCon will have a special place with those of us that were there. A brotherhood? Nah. Band of Horsefuckers? Most definitely.
Day 0 - Thursday
Everyone that's lived in a small town knows how fucking dark it can be in the middle of the night, especially in the dead of winter. I debated on bringing my personal stash of Fireball, but forgot to pack it in the frenzy of trying to leave the house before 0200. Breakfast plans with an old friend was more important to me, even though booze was supposed to get me through the weekend. Needless to say, there was plenty to go around later that night.
I arrived at a rest stop to take a break from driving solo and have a bit of shut-eye to help alleviate the lack of sleep from the evening before. I'd driven in much more miserable circumstances before, namely the 18-hour drive home from EFNW back in 2014. Six people in one Nissan Titan was an... interesting experience, so to say.
I also took the time to check up on the Pacific PonyCon Twitter feed, which I had been following and posting hype tweets for the last week. I'm a rain person myself, but seeing the tweet of the weekend's forecast was a godsend. The wet season tends to drag on for at least three days at a time where I live. With 0830 only four hours away, and a good 220 miles ahead of me, I took to the road again.
Montebello was starting to get jam-packed when I arrived in town. My friend and I agreed upon a local Denny's to meet up at since the price was easy on the wallet. I ended up waiting a bit for her, which was crunching into my time to get the San Diego airport for a pick up. It wasn't too long, thankfully, and we hurried inside after she gave me a Christmas gift: a god damn selfie stick.
Memes aside, breakfast went as normal. Shitposting our mutual friend got a couple laughs, and life went on. Well, we weren't sure about the waitress that dropped a plate three times. Must've been a bit early for her. We parted ways after joking about who was gonna front the bill - to work, and further south.
Two more stops - one for a nap, and one to watch Cobras and Ospreys operatin' over Pendleton - and I finally reached San Diego. The airport was pretty easy to get to, as well as being right across from the naval station. I eye-guzzled the carriers that were anchored from the waiting lot as I awaited a message from Rhetoric. The whole bay and city was a sight to behold.
After sitting tight for a bit, I got the text. What I didn't get was where the hell this guy was disembarking at. I drove around the circle twice, sucking in the scent of plastic fusing to bottom of my vehicle from floating debris back on the I-5. Finally, I got the boyo in the /mlp/ scarf. Once he piled in, we took off down the road to the hotel.
A ten minute drive and we arrived at the Kona. Rhet helped me pluck the piece of garbage from beneath the car and we got our basics to carry around until the room got unlocked by Chelis. Well, that was how it was supposed to go. Instead, Rhet and I were treated like royalty by the con chairman and his lovely lackey. After explaining who we were, we got our badges and room keys for the weekend on the spot. Five-star fucking service right there.
That all ended when it crawled in through the lobby doors. Now, I'm pretty new to the drama game in this god-forsaken fandom, but holy shit, this guy. Not even typical could begin to describe what I thought of ToonKritic. Rhet took a pic and warned our party ahead of time before we tactically retreated to the car to get our things.
Everything pretty chill despite one of the other roommates arriving, I busied myself with making Chelis a Sunset Shimmer banner because I had fuck-all to do before Rhet and Brad made me watch Kung Fury. Keks were had, and it was a nice opening to meeting some of the HN staffies in person. Then Rhet brought out the German shit. I won't lie, he impressed me with how fluent he was in the language. I couldn't even take more than two years of Spanish and remember a full sentence.
Chelis finally arrived after 1800, and the present roomies decided on getting some sushi for dinner. A three minute drive got us to a small place that had some decent food for a pretty penny. That was probably the biggest dent in the food budget the entire weekend. The booze arrived once we finished our food, so we set off back to help offload the booze and supplies for the parties.
Chelis got a bright idea and decided that we all should throw a pre-con party to celebrate the beginning of con season. Once the bar was set up, Chelis and a couple others went off to drag people into the suite. It got pretty busy within the hour, and everyone was chattering away with drinks in hand. My boyo Roo arrived with his posse of Aussieboos and a combat load of Foster's. After observing for a bit, I decided to close up shop on Chelis' banner and join the fun. First was a shot of liquor, then came a cup and lastly a can of Foster's before I could feel the buzz come on.
There wasn't much of a highlight to the night other than the Rainbow daki that Roo and his boys brought to the suite. Needless to say, she was molested in every way imaginable. Who woulda thought? Apparently, the fuckery and the bants were enough to get the hotel on our ass about the noise level, so we ended up having to kick everyone out at 0000. A lot better than the shitfest that was EQLA, and I wasn't even there for that nonsense.
Day 1 - Friday
Friday started off like any con morning would: wake up, shower, and get some grub. Ignoring the fact that the balcony door was left wide open. Thanks Rhet, you cunt. Everyone agreed upon Denny's. Me and Chelis were more than inclined to get our asses moving once we saw the spaghetti that ToonKritic was spilling throughout the beginning of the opening ceremonies. Not that our autism wasn't going to spill at the dinner.
No lie, though. Having breakfast with everyone was nice. I listened to David talk about tanking and how shitty the conditions were. Wanna become a cancerous fuck like Kritic? Go touch some M1 Abrams-brand hydraulic oil. There were more stories about the corruption of the military. A story about someone trying to attain Sergeant caught my attention. The ending to it pissed me off, especially since my bloodline has served since Korea and 'Nam. Couldn't get the rank not because he lacked the leadership skills, but because the instructors testing him were being asshats during the PT portion of the test. I thought about it all through breakfast. Thankfully, it went away when it came time to pay the bill and get back to the hotel to start prepping for the Friday night beach party. Me and Chelbro wanted to check out the vendor hall as well, where I ended up purchasing my AJ tankard from MyLittleTies (guy's a good dudebro, buy his shit) and an AJ flask from a cute Yellowquite cosplayer. Who's going first, Rhet?
After scouting out the beach, our roomies retreated to the suite to start cleaning up from the night before. Routine as usual. Chelis and I had a panel at 1800 that evening, so we took a shot to get our systems going. Kinda hard for two lardasses to talk about their shitty fanfics when they're sober. Roo agreed to crash the panel, per insistence. How could you deny Aussieboos crashing something with no survivors? Well, that's how it would've been if Vicodin hadn't of shown up. Dreams crushed, me and Chelis continued our drunken ramblings with one another by explaining the importance of having support in the form of a black editor wearing the horn from a windigo pinata.
Chelis got a bright idea and decided that we all should throw a pre-con party to celebrate the beginning of con season. Once the bar was set up, Chelis and a couple others went off to drag people into the suite. It got pretty busy within the hour, and everyone was chattering away with drinks in hand. My boyo Roo arrived with his posse of Aussieboos and a combat load of Foster's. After observing for a bit, I decided to close up shop on Chelis' banner and join the fun. First was a shot of liquor, then came a cup and lastly a can of Foster's before I could feel the buzz come on.
There wasn't much of a highlight to the night other than the Rainbow daki that Roo and his boys brought to the suite. Needless to say, she was molested in every way imaginable. Who woulda thought? Apparently, the fuckery and the bants were enough to get the hotel on our ass about the noise level, so we ended up having to kick everyone out at 0000. A lot better than the shitfest that was EQLA, and I wasn't even there for that nonsense.
Day 1 - Friday
Friday started off like any con morning would: wake up, shower, and get some grub. Ignoring the fact that the balcony door was left wide open. Thanks Rhet, you cunt. Everyone agreed upon Denny's. Me and Chelis were more than inclined to get our asses moving once we saw the spaghetti that ToonKritic was spilling throughout the beginning of the opening ceremonies. Not that our autism wasn't going to spill at the dinner.
No lie, though. Having breakfast with everyone was nice. I listened to David talk about tanking and how shitty the conditions were. Wanna become a cancerous fuck like Kritic? Go touch some M1 Abrams-brand hydraulic oil. There were more stories about the corruption of the military. A story about someone trying to attain Sergeant caught my attention. The ending to it pissed me off, especially since my bloodline has served since Korea and 'Nam. Couldn't get the rank not because he lacked the leadership skills, but because the instructors testing him were being asshats during the PT portion of the test. I thought about it all through breakfast. Thankfully, it went away when it came time to pay the bill and get back to the hotel to start prepping for the Friday night beach party. Me and Chelbro wanted to check out the vendor hall as well, where I ended up purchasing my AJ tankard from MyLittleTies (guy's a good dudebro, buy his shit) and an AJ flask from a cute Yellowquite cosplayer. Who's going first, Rhet?
After scouting out the beach, our roomies retreated to the suite to start cleaning up from the night before. Routine as usual. Chelis and I had a panel at 1800 that evening, so we took a shot to get our systems going. Kinda hard for two lardasses to talk about their shitty fanfics when they're sober. Roo agreed to crash the panel, per insistence. How could you deny Aussieboos crashing something with no survivors? Well, that's how it would've been if Vicodin hadn't of shown up. Dreams crushed, me and Chelis continued our drunken ramblings with one another by explaining the importance of having support in the form of a black editor wearing the horn from a windigo pinata.
"At this moment in time, it dawns upon him that he has no idea where he is or what he is doing there." - Rhet, 2016
Thankfully, our suite bartender, Sarah, got me some good shit in my flask. Went through the whole thing in the first half-hour of the panel because Vicodin was killing my buzz. Our friendly neighborhood boyos from BABS brought the bants to keep us going, which led the panel ending on an alright note (in my opinion at least). We headed back to the suite to get more drinks since the beach bar got shut down only a couple of hours in, and I came back down to watch the Iron Author competition being hosted by Chandler, aka Super Trampoline.
The place was a fucking ghost town, spare my boyos from the panel earlier and a couple of lost souls. I decided on shooting the shit with them and just hung out in my drunken state. Apparently, I'd also managed to write some semblance of a fanfic on a sticky-note and entered it to Tramp. A little girl submitted a nice piece of art (damn if I remember what it was), but there was asshurt because she was related to someone on the staff. I gave them my two pence and said that she should be able to enter regardless considering that there really wasn't much competition. Tramp even put up a blog post on FiMFiction advertising it too, but alas, there was really no one interested enough to take a shot. What'd we get for entering? Two posters. At least one has Silver Strand on it. At least it wasn't rigged like the cosplay competition. Insert more ToonKritic drama here.
After more bantering with the BABS guys I took my leave to go get some more booze in my system for God knows what reason. Jim, who I'd met earlier in the day and is the co-creator of the "Cum Bucket," downed another Bucket with me before the HN panels. This time I was smart enough to bring my tankard with my flask as back-up since we had two of them that night. I guess I did another drunk thing because I remember being called "the token black guy" by some autist in the audience. One of a few, I must say, because even Strumpet was getting some outlandish questions from a dude wielding a Yellowquiet plushie.
The best part of HN Hosts Panels Night came when we opened up the Complaint Box with a drunken Chelis at the helm. It was pretty a back and forth bant-battle between New and the crew before he left with someone else towards the end of the panel. Rightfully so because the autism reached new heights when some white knight showed himself and proclaimed that HN was responsible for snapping some revealing pictures of one (or a few; who fucking knows with this guy) of the local cosplayers. I haven't been on the crew for long, but I know for a fact that Horse News is too fucking poor to have a dedicated photographer on board. Added with the spaghettifest that was Chelis, the panel came to an end, miserably. The Aussieboos sent him back to the suite sometime before we came knocking on the door.
It was a pretty low-key night party-wise. I had a couple more drinks with Roo and some of his guys and ended up taking a couple of hits on a vape out on the balcony for the hell of it. The autist factor spiked again when Roo invited us onto his lap for ChairCon. At this point in time, no one was in the right mindset to say yes or no. It just happened.
I love you cunts. And that chair too.
0200 rolled around quietly. Roo and his crew left for their room downstairs while our suite went lights out right after that.
Day 2 - Saturday
Good times being had.
Saturday's breakfast spot was IHOP, which was further out than Denny's by about ten minutes. I got to sear my eyeballs when Roo and Travis showed up in their silkies. Obviously some of the normies in the restaurant liked them, from some catcalls and whistles heard here and there. The shit was hilarious in the end.
Like the day before, I spent my time listening to the conversations going on at the table, putting in my words here and there. The highlight of these conversations was listening to Rusfag (aka Mr. Ushanka in the photo) and Roo talk about the mil-simming they do when they aren't being autists at a convention.
The best bits and pieces came from David and Rus talking about tag-rounds and "killing" seven people with a plastic spoon. Everyone got a laugh out of that. Breakfast felt a lot more lively than the day before for sure.
After some Twitter bants two feet away form each other, we got our bills and lined up to leave. I rode back with Chelis to help clean up the even bigger mess from the second party and set up a... "meme" playlist to back this night's suite party. Some of the choices were definitely questionable, but lacked enough Sandstorm to rustle some jimmies.
After that point, things got a bit blurry from my perspective. I do remember going down to the beach bar room we had set up in Blarfniggle's room the night before and taking a couple of hit on whip-its for shits and giggles. Chelis about passed out on us due to exhaustion, but Sarah's impending arrival with the booze made us take out leave. I think I also checked in with Roo and got to fondle his team's 240 Bravo while looking at the room's coffee table covered in horse pussy. I'm a sucker for support weapons and lewd Applehorse.
I got bored just sitting in the room after hauling the stuff up and I decided to go on an adventure with Roo to check on our guys at the hot tub. Bants and fuckery as usual. I pulled a Macathur and came back a while later to chill at what became the con's unofficial gay bathhouse. It must've been a theme to share our thoughts and opinions on shit pertaining to the military. I know me and David had a good debate about the money-sucker F-35s while the others were taking about how dumb it was to keep buying crappy plate carriers over and over again instead of buying the good ones for a bit more and being done with it.
As the sun started setting, everyone packed up and headed back to their rooms. I got put on cooler detail and went off to get ice. When one box wasn't enough, I dragged Chelis' happy ass down with me to help out. I don't know how we did it, but we filled it enough before the ice machine decided to stop giving it up. Now our Coronas and Smirnovs wouldn't taste like lukewarm shitquid.
A little bit of everything, for everyone.
I started off the night with a Horse Cum because fuck it, the shit was alright. Thanks Sarah. Then I met a couple of military guys from the area, which was pretty neat. Nothing serious, just some background questions and a handshake. I went to go check on Chelis to make sure he wasn't up to no good. My attention got diverted to an AJ cosplayer and some of her boyos that'd come to party that night. All of them were chill, and they ended up going to balcony to smoke some ciggies while I went to chit-chat with another gal who some of us were talking with prior to the drinks flowing. Cute sheilas, as Roo would say.
Another of our boyos from the BABS crew came to drink, plus three sheilas. The night picked up from there. One of the military bros offered me some homemade gasoline and I slammed it back. No burn until it made it halfway to the gut. The shit was nice though. I would've used it to make the Cum Bucket a bit less shitty. I ended up picking up a Smirnov and heading to the balcony where a few peeps were sharing ciggies with one another. Never was a smoking guy myself, but there's a first for everything.
The conversation was nothing out of the ordinary, and I just did what I'd done at breakfast for the last two days. 0200 was rolling around again and the party was starting to die down. The cosplayer had left before her roomies did, but we didn't think much of it. I got another Smirnov and chatted with em until they were ready to head out a bit later. I walked with them to their room since I was still awake and had nothing better to do. It was a whole 'nother banterfest when they walked into their room and tried rustling their other roomies to get up and drink more. I told them to knock that shit off and to go find their friend. And of course, my dumbass offered to help.
I went on my own way and found her hanging out in the con ops room with ScribePony, the lackey that'd helped us on Thursday. I told her that her boyos were looking for her and she went on her merry way. I chatted with the staffs for a bit before heading out myself. Before I found her, I'd stumbled upon one of our roommates hanging out at the pool with one of his bros. What do I do? Get my shorts from earlier and come back down to chill out by the fire they had going. I'd also brought a Corona with me since we were out of Smirnov, and for the hell of it. More listening to stories and chatter.
A couple military bros from the party showed up and said something about me looking toned and shit if I were to slim down. It was a compliment, I guess? Either way, I ended up hanging out with these guys at the hot tub for a while, which involved more stories about being in the service. A couple more people came to join us, namely Strumpet and Chelis. I spent the time relaxing and listening to both conversations while teasing Chelis for his performance at the panel the night before. Scribe and the cosplayer from the party joined us, as well as another staffer. I skipped between all the conversations, took a dip in the pool for a bit, and took a drag of a cigarette. It was shit. By 0500, it was just me and the two bros that showed up at the fire before. I turned in soon after since me and Chelis were supposed to be on one final fanfiction panel with Tramp at 1100. Sneaking back into the room with people all over the floor was a pain in the ass. I ended up tucking myself behind the couch with a 12-pack of Diet Coke as my pillow. I think God's trying to say something.
Day 3 - Sunday
Our plan was simple. Get the shots flowing in our system and then take a drink with us to the panel. I filled the tankard with another Bucket and filled my flask with straight stuff as back-up. You can never have too much at a Super Trampoline panel. Vicodin showed up again, which already killed any semblance of having some decent IRL shitposting. I already had some beef with Tramp to begin with, but this Vic guy was rising up the ranks pretty quickly. The only chill guy there with us was ClosertotheSun. Awkward guy, but he was nice. I'd have a Foster's with him any day.
The panel was pretty poor, both due to the seriousness of the two panelists that actually gave a shit and the lack of attendance to begin with. I was happy that our panel had more people - and had more people that asked some legit questions. I forgot all else that happened during the panel. It was that boring. Bless Sun for trying to keep it entertaining though.
Pictured: Two guys who don't know what they're doing and a liberal pirate.
After we let the panel die, we got our roomies together to go and have some quality food at Dick's Last Resort. I eye-guzzled some more warships on the way into the heart of the city. 4Chan vs Dick's: The Great Bant. What a time. McMag (that's my name for you now, bro) even got to watch his Steelers win their playoff game while we dined on some good food. Overall, Day 3 was really low-key.
The boyos and sheilas gather one final time.
After we got back, we snapped a group photo before the Aussieboos had to get going. I still had to finish getting my shit together back in the suite, so most of us skipped out on closing ceremonies. Not like we wanted to hear spaghetti dripping out of ToonKritic's mouth anyways. I gave my thanks to all who were there and sent out one final tweet before officially ending what was probably the best weekend of 2016 yet. And what does fucking Chelis do?
Nice meme, cunt. <3
I'll definitely be coming back to Pacific PonyCon. It was just too good of an experience to not go again, 10 hour drive aside. Up next - BABSCon: Year Three Edition.
Tl:dr
ReplyDeleteNice Pagebreak, guys.
ReplyDeleteWe tried.
DeleteNot reading that shit sorry
ReplyDeleteWhat the heck is a "horse cum"? What's in it?
ReplyDeleteif I didn't hate the horsefags crew after the first article, this one sure did it.
ReplyDeleteThis.
DeleteMake a blog post about Sibsy being fat. Better than your convention fillers.
ReplyDeletecompared to these blobby landwhales, sibsy is a supermodel
DeleteI see Chelis has retired the #horsefamous shirt inlieu of the Sunset Shimmer shirt.
ReplyDeleteSo PPC wasn't another Unicon, huh?
ReplyDeleteI may actually consider attending it if it's coming back next year, then.
PURPLE TRANNY
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