I swear, everyone I know who went to the NYCC comics show has come down with (as it’s colloquially known) the Con Crud. This manifests as anything from Undefined Shitty Feeling With Extra Snot/Phlegm to Delibitating Chest/Head Infection With Rivers Of Green Horror to flat out 19th Century Consumption Teetering On The Edge Of Cellular Collapse. Hand sanitisers aren’t cutting it anymore. The next American convention I do, I’m turning up in a fucking spacesuit. A SEXY spacesuit.
Warren Ellis on the Post-New York Comic Con epidemic. [via BadSignal]