Nostril sensitivity be damned, I was eager to dive into the merriment, delighting in the costumes, spying men living out their warrior and Mario fantasies, while the women Spanxed their way into snug outfits of all anime and funny book designs. With panels there to entertain, sellers there to sell, and famous people out to bilk their fans for every last penny, the Con was a smash. Except for all the bare feet on the Con floor. Just what the hell was up with all the bare feet.

Heaving, unwieldy displays of monumental cleavage bursting through lavender PVC from women who haven’t seen the sun in five years? Yes! Bare feet on a greasy, sweaty, god-knows-what-stained convention floor? No!

Unfortunately, my camera picked a huge fight with me on the ride over to the Orange County Convention Center and we didn’t make up until later in the day. I apologize for the wonky quality of the pictures. While focus took a smoke break, the spirit of the day and the participants remains.

For the record, never hang out with a Panasonic when it drinks.