• When you click on links to various merchants on this site and make a purchase, this can result in this site earning a commission. Affiliate programs and affiliations include, but are not limited to, the eBay Partner Network.

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

Seattle Show Report; What It's Like to Be a Heinlein Character for the Weekend

Started by lighthouse,

50 posts in this topic

lighthouse

lighthouse

Posted
Posted

(WARNING: This report is ridiculously long, and doesn't have nearly enough "comic" info. But reading it might put your own weekend into perspective. tongue.gif)

 

So I decided to set up at the Seattle Show this weekend, in spite of how the rest of my month has gone... or perhaps because of it. Back around Halloween, I was seriously considering bailing on the show, since it doesn't really generate enough revenue to justify the time involved. Steve winks in the dark on this one, he knows he's running a show, but no one else does. But, the last one in September I made a couple nice buys and got rid of some slow-moving junk, so I figured any revenue is better than no revenue.

 

As I sit writing this, I know exactly how Alec Graham felt in Heinlein's Job: A Comedy of Justice. Except I didn't have a Danish beauty at my side for the journey, I didn't visit Hell (or Texas, it's a matter of opinion), and I didn't end the weekend as the owner of an ice cream shop.

 

You ever have one of those experiences where things keep getting worse, and eventually you just can't be upset anymore, you just have to laugh at how absurd the situation has become? And no, I am not describing an SNL skit...

 

So I spend the afternoon of my birthday split between listening to the Ducks-Bruins game and getting the van loaded for the show. The Bruins are notorious over the last decade for playing above their potential in the first half of the season and melting in the second half, and the Ducks prevailed by 25. That makes three wins by 25 or more, and three losses by 25 or more. I think the whole team could do with some lithium at this point.

 

I get the last boxes in the van about an hour later than I planned, then realize I forgot to pack a couple minor things, like the loading dolly, the cash drawer, and the Ultimate Spideys I planned to blow out (cue double-entendre foreshadowing music). So I get those loaded, send Greggy a last minute PM making fun of his shorts, print out a few wantlists to take with me, and call my Buxom Assistant to tell her I am running late. She moved to Portland since the last Seattle show, so I needed to pick her up on the way. I throw 30lbs of oak into the wood stove so the wife doesn't freeze while I am gone, and I roll out.

 

At the gas station (where I silently curse my state for forcing me to pay 10c a gallon more than I should because we don't have self-serve) a homeless man accosts me for money for "food". The homeless people at the post office are always very polite, and I never turn them down, but this guy was just plain rude. It's my birthday, so I am all about spreading the love, so I make him the same offer I always make to the guys at the Post Office. I reach into my wallet and pull out a completed Subway Sub Club card. I explain that he'll get a free 6" sandwich, he'll just need to buy a cookie or something. I have around 30 of these in my wallet because I eat a lot of Subway, and I save the cards for homeless people rather than turning them in myself. Well, the homeless guy proceeds to cuss me out, using several words that are not permitted in these forums (including ) and asks me how the hell he is supposed to get drunk on a sandwich...

 

I decided years ago that if people on the street were honest, and indicated they were going to spend the money to get drunk, I would give them a dollar. But I never give money to the ones asking for "food" money. Because if they really want money for food, I can do better with the Subway cards, and if they are lying to me about what they want, I am happy to give them nothing.

 

I paused for about a second, and then gave him both the dollar and the sandwich card, and told him it was a birthday present. I am certain that for the briefest of moments he was convinced I was even crazier than the woman on the payphone next to him, which is quite a feat, considering the handset was firmly on the hook and she was screaming away about how if the Blue Jays didn't win tonight she was gonna have to mow her lawn in the rain...

 

So I get back on the road, listening to Metallica, Duran Duran, and George Strait as the rain pours out of the sky. It rains all the time in Oregon, it says so right on the label. And all Oregonians are entrusted with a sacred duty to tell anyone who doesn't live here that it rains all day, every day. But Saturday it really was raining... raining hard enough that it took me a little longer than normal to get to Portland. I locate the Buxom Assistant's apartment building downtown with little trouble (just follow the path with more gay streetwalkers). She lives in a part of downtown with thriving culture and art, or at least with a lot of gay men, sometimes it's hard to tell the difference.

 

We cross the Columbia into Washington and begin a heated debate over whether the punk music of today is more or less "punk" than the punk music of the late 70s and early 80s. After exploring the nature of derivative creativity and comparing the evolution of punk to the influence of Diamondhead on Metallica, we decided to listen to the oldies station instead. RB Greaves' Take A Letter, Maria is always good for a debate on the nature of the human male. Shunned by his wife, he turns to his secretary with the sudden realization "Hey, you're kinda cute"... Paraphrasing, of course... tongue.gif

 

(So there you are reading this report and wondering why the heck lighthouse has wasted your time so far. Well, just sit back, the last tumbler has fallen into place and the odyssey is about to begin...)

 

About 25 miles north of the border, there is an ever-so-slight shudder from the back end of the van. Two seconds later, the van is a whole lot louder than before. Really, really, really loud. It's raining, and I'm doing 70 in the left lane, so I kill the cruise control and signal to move over. Traffic is very light, so I am able to get across the three lanes and onto the shoulder with little effort. I turn off the radio as I am making the last lane change and things don't get any quieter in the van. I apply the brakes as I reach the shoulder, and the van expresses its displeasure with the concept but comes nicely to a stop. I realize I have pulled a little too far off the road, and the right hand tires are in the grass, so I roll it forward a little to be fully back on the pavement.

 

Hazard lights on, I wait for a break in the traffic and get out to survey the damage. The right rear tire is completely blown out. The rim appears undamaged, but the tire looks like a fallen souffle standing on end. The rain has mercifully stopped to a bare drizzle. But it's after 9pm on a Saturday night, and I just remembered that I have 30 long boxes of comics covering the spare tire. I also just remembered that I am doing a show in rainy Seattle tomorrow, and somehow I forgot to bring a jacket.

 

I haven't had to change a tire since I bought this van last year, though it has to be easier than my 1978 Cadillac was. Bumper-jacking a 70s Cadillac is no fun at all... I open my glove box to grab the owner's manual so I can confirm where the jack goes, and find it's not there. I brought it into the house a month ago to double-check my maintenance schedules and never put it back. I stare into the glove box, stare at the blown-out tire, stare at the boxes of comics... Finally I call the wife... Sure enough, the owner's manual is sitting on the coffee table in the entertainment room, waiting for me to read it between games of Madden. She directs me to the location of the jack, which I had forgotten was stored in the engine compartment, and explains where the locator pins are.

 

My Buxom Assistant is suprised when I pull out a flashlight, a thin foam mat, a pair of work gloves, and a roll of trash bags from inside the van. Apparently, no one in her circle of friends actually prepares for emergencies. I am just about resigned to seeing several long boxes sitting outside in the rain, when the wife tells me that the spare is stored underneath the vehicle and is removed by means of a cable winch. The nut for the winch is within 3 inches of the back of the van, so no long boxes have to move after all.

 

The tire change itself is annoying and cold, but uneventful. No one stops to offer assistance during the 45 minutes we are there, but a couple people wave, and one guy yells something about the embassy in Nairobi that was apparently intended to be quite amusing. The lug nuts are extremely tight, and I wind up having to stand on the lug wrench and bounce up and down to get them to budge. But they do. Unfortunately the blownout tire won't go back on the storage cable for the spare because the rim doesn't match. So I double-bag it in trash bags and load it on top of the comics.

 

We roll into Tumwater around 11pm. I always like to stay about 45 minutes away from the showsite for one-day shows. The morning drive ensures I am wide awake when the show starts, the rates are always cheaper, and there is less chance of someone thinking there might be comics in the van. I had planned to have a real dinner, but sleep seemed a lot more important. We swap stories about lame birthdays of the past for a while, then crash for the night.

 

My wake-up call doesn't come, but I always set my cellphone's alarm as a back up. The Buxom Assistant doesn't get a wakeup call either, so we are a half hour late getting out. I find a Wal-Mart about 5 miles down the highway that opens at 8, and we head over there to buy a jacket and some food. Steve's show is the only one I have ever been to with no refreshments of any kind. No concessions stand, nothing. So I buy some water and snack food and a jacket, briefly pondering returning the jacket on Monday for refund but deciding against it. We're now almost an hour later than planned.

 

Halfway to Seattle the rain starts pouring down hard. Like Houston-hard, or Miami-hard. Normally the cities in the Northwest get lots of rainy days, but most of them are very light. Atlanta gets more rain in a year than Portland even though it rains twice as many days in Portland. The prospect of unloading in the rain is looking less and less exciting, especially if I can't find the loading ramp. Those of you who read my September report will recall that this show is held in a gazillion separate rooms and you can be unloading outside Ms Peterson's 2nd grade classroom but be set up in Mr Johnson's 6th grade room... As we get off the exit, it's now 28 minutes to the beginning of the show and I tell the Buxom Assistant that if she weren't along I would probably have already turned back...

 

I make two wrong turns coming toward the Seattle Center and wind up on the wrong street. After getting lost twice, I turn down an alley and stop to read an information sign with a map of the area. It was a sign, and there was information, but none of it was in any way helpful. At this point I am so frustrated with the whole experience, I almost get back on the road headed for home, but the Buxom Assistant suggests I turn around and try this one other street she saw. The problem with the loading ramp for the show is that it connects not to a street, but to an esplanade. You can stand on the ramp looking out over the esplanade and see that it winds around between various buildings, but there is no indication where it connects with a road. Well the planets align and the Buxom Assistant directs me to a gap in the barricades behind the ticket office. We drive through and around the corner, and sure enough, we're on the esplanade. Two minutes later, we're parked at the top of the loading ramp at the show.

 

It's now 11 minutes until the show opens, and I learn that my tables are less than 50 ft from the loading ramp. The rain is pouring down, but I am able to get all the boxes moved in in record time. The Buxom Assistant starts getting the table arranged while I go move the van to a parking lot. As I get into the van I look across the plaza to where the entrance to the show is and my heart sinks. Last show there were around 150 people waiting in line for the show to open. I count less than 40... I hope it's just the rain and that they will be slow to arrive, but I mumble to myself anyway...

 

After I park the van and run back to the show, I see that the "crowds" have just started filing in. I move a couple signs and arrange my display of Ultimate Spideys, and then look up and realize I am directly across from Crazy Charlie... It took all I could muster to not pack up and leave on the spot...

 

----End Part 1... I need to get some dinner. I'll be back in a little while to post the rest of the story, which includes the State Police, Little Lulu, a Rest Area, Spidey 129, Runaways 1, Godfather's Pizza, Batman 4, the ugliest prostitute in North America, and a comic find that would make several forumites drool...

Link to comment
Share on other sites
lighthouse

lighthouse

Posted
  • Author
Posted

Part 2.... (I apologize if the formatting looks weird. Sometimes my edited posts don't format correctly)....

 

So the show is underway, and a few more people start to file in. I am couple rooms away from the entrance so I have a few extra minutes to get things arranged. I brought my usual piles of junk with me. About 8 boxes of store overstock, stuff from the last year or so that I sell for a dollar. About 6 long boxes of triplicate Silver Age that I sell at 50% off. Five long boxes of trade paperbacks that I dump at 50% off. And then some random things. This time I brought a long box of 20c Marvel and DCs from a collection I picked up....

 

The first hour is pretty slow, and Crazy Charlie tells the same story four times. I get to the point where I can pretty much lipsynch it, as he explains to customer after customer how no one ever buys his stuff and he needs to make a payment on his car. I feel so sorry for his daughter. She looks just like him and clearly has had no female role models in her life. Every once in a while he wanders off to talk to other dealers, and my business picks up each time....

 

I dump a bunch of overstock in the first couple hours, and sell around 30 trades, but the show is so dead I have plenty of time to wander around. Forumite davidking623 brings by a couple books he set aside for me, including a Red Circle comic with a really great cover. I pick up two copies of Hulk 197 from the dealer next to me for a buck each. Had the show gone better I would have bought a long box of Silver Age from him. He had stupidly cheap prices on low-grade Silver. $9 for an FF 49 in Good....

 

I trek across the room and find another dealer dumping recent books at $1 each. He had a couple thousand with him including some great stuff like Runaways 1, but all his books look like they spent two months in a spinner rack at a dentist office. My $1 stock averages 9.2. These didn't even average 8.0. I stared at the thirteen copies each of Runaways 1-3 but passed on all of them. I just don't understand shops that take that little care of the books....

 

After a while I get bored and walk over to Crazy Charlie's table. I ask him about the Batman 4, and he proceeds to tell me he has three other dealers interested. It takes me all of 5 minutes to determine that all three of these dealers are me, and he has no clue. He even asks me whether I used to shop in his store in the early 80s. Yet again, he offers me a better price than he has before, since these "other dealers" keep changing their minds....

 

I had no luck with greggy's wantlist. Found several of the romance books he needs, but none better than VF, and that's not nearly good enough for the forum legend. I also found a half-dozen other books I thought he might need that were in "sweet, sweet" shape, but unlike my other wantlist customers I have no phone number for greggy, so I couldn't call his manservant to check....

 

Had better luck with bobpfef's Lulus. The dealer next to me had recently purchased a collection of over 100 of them. Unfortunately all the Four Colors had already sold, but there were some very nice books. It's tough to find any quantity of Lulus, especially ones in decent shape. The third time through the boxes I noticed a few books turned around backwards and pulled out a gorgeous copy of Little Lulu 1, some color flaking along the spine but a really nice book in the VF range. I gave Bob a call to see if it fit his needs, but unfortunately the dealer is more than a little attached to it. Easily the nicest #1 I have seen, I don't blame her. But I don't blame Bob for not pulling the trigger either....

 

Around 3pm I found out the move-out was going to be annoying. Big surprise... Turns out Disney On Ice was playing in the Arena so we couldn't use the loading ramp at all. Everyone would be unloading at Ms Peterson's classroom... mad.gif ....

 

Even though the show was slow, I still had a few decent sales. A few customers from the September show came back specifically to get some stuff they couldn't afford last time. That's always good. No real consistency to the sales though. I sold a lot of strange stuff, and there wasn't any rhyme or reason to it. Sold a bunch of Tower comics, some mid-grade Neal Adams Green Lanterns, a bunch of 15c Avengers and Thors, a run of Charlton Hercules... sales were all over the map....

 

I had four requests for Tales of Suspense 49. I didn't bring any again. But I may to the February show. There was only one copy in the room, a Good for $75. The guys who had it bought my Spidey 129 in VF for 170. We both agreed the movie was going to suck, but they have a customer lined up so it was an easy flip for them. Later in the show I worked a deal with them for a bunch of Ultimate Spideys that I was blowing out. A couple copies each of 2 thru 18 (minus the 5s) for $200. I'm still pretty deep in those issues and I needed more cash than what the show was going to bring....

 

With about an hour left in the show, I wandered over to a dealer I buy from every once in a while and flipped through his Bronze. He grades tight and has good prices. Halfway through the first box I almost had a seizure. I had to double check the book three times to be sure. I bought three more books as cover, but the book I spent two dollars on made me a very happy camper. I went through his other nineteen boxes, but that was the only gem. I took it back to my table and stared at it for a while. Then I stared some more. If you're one of us, you know what the experience was like. If you're not, I guess you'll never know.... (Scan of my $2 find to be posted in part 3)....

 

The final hour of the show is completely dead. I spend half of it at Crazy Charlie's table, trying to work a deal with him on some books. I'll probably be driving up to see him in the next couple weeks because he has some stuff I think I can get a great deal on. It'll be aggravating (as anyone who knows him will attest) but I think it will be worth it....

 

The dealers all fight for the building's carts, and I resign myself to waiting until 40 minutes after the show closes to load up. I can take all my stuff in three trips with my own dolly, which is fine when the van is right outside. But 200 yards away it's worth the wait to do it all in one trip. Crazy Charlie grabbed a cart with an hour to go in the show and loaded it up. Two hours later, that cart was still sitting fully loaded in the exact same spot. Four dealers could have used it to move out in the time he left it there. But the other dealers are so fed up with trying to talk to him that no one said anything. When I finally moved my van onto the street and came back to get the inventory, he was still sitting there, with the cart still loaded next to his table....

 

The rain had stopped for the load-out which was pleasant. I loaded everything while my Buxom Assistant sat alphabetizing her newly-acquired phone numbers. She only got 14 this show. Kind of a slow day for her. Soon enough, everything was loaded and I was on the road. Dead tired, but on the road....

 

The rain on the way back was pretty ugly. I checked how the spare was doing before we left and it looked fine. I was so glad I had a full-sized spare. About an hour down the road I started feeling really tired. I kept doing the math in my head of what time I was going to get home and how far I still had to drive. The whole weekend started to catch up with me and I was questioning how long I would be safe to drive. We decide to stop for food, since I've been living on crackers most of the day. A half hour later I am filled up on Humble Pie from Godfather's Pizza and we're back on the road. But I am still getting tired. Thirty miles from Portland I decided to stop at the next rest area for a 15-20 minute nap, which usually does wonders. It was pouring down rain on the roof and I was asleep in less than a minute. I woke up 20 minutes later much more refreshed and rolled out for Portland....

 

When we got near her apartment, I saw the ugliest prostitute I have ever seen in my life. And that is saying something. Uglier than any of the crackwhores in Houston. Uglier than any of the streetwalkers in Yuma. Uglier than that transvestite I saw outside Mobile. Uglier than Steve Buscemi in drag with makeup applied by a blind Parkinson's patient. I did a double then a triple-take, and immediately decided that this weekend was no longer a story fit for human consumption....

 

I dropped off the Buxom Assistant, thanked her for her help, and joked about what could possibly go wrong next. After circling the block I headed towards Front St. Portland is very easy to leave, especially if you are on the west side of the river. No matter what road you are on, you head toward the river and turn right on Front St. A couple miles later it becomes I-5 and you're all set. I get two blocks down and I see the prostitute again, a block ahead of me. I get stopped at the light, and ponder asking her how much, just to make the story a little better. Before my light turns green, a car to my right turns in front of me and cruises up to her. She leans into the window, they talk for a second, and she gets in the car. Real life is so much stranger than fiction, the story immediately moved from "not fit" to "must tell". The car makes the next turn as my light turns green and I shake my head all the way to Front St....

 

I leave Portland headed south. The next rest area is about 20 miles south of town and I figure I will stop there for a half hour or so, then make the final leg of the drive. I'm cruising along, in the rain, listening to Harry Potter on tape. Harry's name pops out of the Goblet of Fire, and all of a sudden, the van is really, really loud. No. It can't be. It's not possible. I eject the tape and kill the cruise control. The van is really, really, really loud....

 

The combination of All-Wheel Drive and Anti-Lock Brakes is really a beautiful thing. I gently slowed the van and pulled onto the shoulder. The three remaining tires do their job beautifully and I am in no danger of spinning or flipping. This blowout is on the left rear. The spare is just fine. It's a second tire with less than 25,000 miles on it that has blown out. On a Sunday night. I pick up my cell phone and call the wife and she assumed I am kidding. It takes me four times (and the use of a codeword) to convince her that no, this is not a joke. I have blown out two tires in 25 hours and can't drive home. I'm 300yds from the offramp but there is no way the rim will survive that. I sit in the van and just start laughing. The situation is just so absurd....

 

Less than five minutes later, as I am pondering options of paying for a late-night tow, leaving the vehicle on the shoulder overnight (full of comics), getting a room here, etc. a state trooper pulls in behind me. The state of Oregon is completely out of money and can't afford even the most basic of services. So the State Police stopped assisting broken-down vehicles (that aren't blocking traffic) a few years back to improve their response time to accidents. But for some unknown reason, Trooper Townshend decided to stop. We talked about my options, and I eventually asked him to call a towtruck for me. I'd decide where to take the van by the time he got there. As he was leaving, he told me that he has the same insurance company I do, and that they will pay for the towtruck. Apparently it varies from state to state, because they don't in Texas, but they do in Oregon. I would have had no idea....

 

$155 later, the van was a mile away from where it broke down, in the parking lot of a motel. I got a room for the night, set my alarm for the morning, and went to sleep. I called a cab first thing in the morning and took the tire from the first blowout to Les Schwab. They were absolutely swamped but moved me to the front of the line. They sold me a used tire that I would turn in at my home location for full credit towards a pair of new tires, and gave me a free ride back over to the motel. Finally convinced that everything was going to turn out alright, I jacked up the van and started to remove the 2nd blowout. It was pouring rain again, but I didn't care. I was finally a couple hours from being home, a couple hours from the weekend being finally over. I did my standing bounce on the first four lugnuts, and the went to fit the wrench on the fifth one. It was stripped. Almost completely rounded. I'm standing in the rain, with a checkout time from the motel in 15 minutes and the wrench spins all around the last lug nut. I stood next to my van in the rain softly beating my forehead against the side window like a cartoon character gone mad....

 

I called my home Les Schwab location and told them the whole story, well not the part about the prostitute, but most everything else. I explained that the last time they rotated my tires they must have stripped the lug nut. He called the local Les Schwab and there was a service truck taking the lug nut off less than 8 minutes later. It took me almost as much time to tell him the story as it did for him to fix the problem. I was a customer for life anyway, their customer service is legendary, but for him to take the time to make sure I was satisfied and for the local location who wasn't seeing any of my money to follow-through like they did, I'll be a customer of theirs in my next life as well....

 

I finally arrived home, an hour and a half later. I spent ten minutes getting a fire going, and then collapsed. The wife woke me up five hours later when she got home. Turns out she called our insurance agent, and we'll be getting reimbursements on two other tows and a car rental that she didn't know we were covered for. I'll be writing a very nice letter thanking that state trooper for his service. And tomorrow I'll be buying two new tires at Les Schwab....

 

But in the meantime, I'll post a scan of the gem I found at the show. It's available to whoever wants it. I could use the money at this point, and it'll either fill a nice hole in someone's collection or let someone make an upgrade and turn their own copy into trade bait....

 

Thanks for reading this. It was a nice catharsis for me. I'm already making plans on how to make next year's birthday even more surreal, and hopefully my van won't be really, really loud again for a long time....

 

'House

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites
lighthouse

lighthouse

Posted
  • Author
Posted
Ah, JOB. A truly great novel, regardless of the fact that no one other than sci-fi fans typically bother to read it.

 

I survived fourteen years of Catholic school, studying the tenets of not only Catholicism but every other major religion as well, and I don't think any of that made as much sense to me as Job: A Comedy of Justice.

 

All the major religions come down to three basic tenets:

 

There's a power greater than us.

We should be nice to each other.

If we are, things will be better for us.

 

But nearly all of them also add the concept that "only our way is correct". The fundamental idea that 5 billion could be being nice to each other and still be wrong always grated on me. Job provided a great counterpoint asking the question "What if they are all correct?"

 

As great as Stranger is, and as great as the Lazarus Long books are, Job will always be my favorite Heinlein novel...

Link to comment
Share on other sites
greggy

greggy

Posted
Posted
Ah, JOB. A truly great novel, regardless of the fact that no one other than sci-fi fans typically bother to read it.

 

I survived fourteen years of Catholic school, studying the tenets of not only Catholicism but every other major religion as well, and I don't think any of that made as much sense to me as Job: A Comedy of Justice.

 

All the major religions come down to three basic tenets:

 

There's a power greater than us.

We should be nice to each other.

If we are, things will be better for us.

 

But nearly all of them also add the concept that "only our way is correct". The fundamental idea that 5 billion could be being nice to each other and still be wrong always grated on me. Job provided a great counterpoint asking the question "What if they are all correct?"

 

As great as Stranger is, and as great as the Lazarus Long books are, Job will always be my favorite Heinlein novel...

Finish off the report especially about this comic find! 893applaud-thumb.gif
Link to comment
Share on other sites
greggy

greggy

Posted
Posted

Good luck with Crazy Charlie! Sigh...I should go down in February and give the guy some business. I wonder if he will give me the same old line in the past by saying that any high grade books that I would pick up was his "personal" copy. Feel sorry for his daughter tough. She seemed pretty normal back in the day. I guess she's fallen for his dreariness (sp?)! 893frustrated.gif

 

When are you going to make the trek? 893scratchchin-thumb.gif

 

What titles did you find that might have interested me? 893scratchchin-thumb.gif

 

BTW....I thought that you found something "good"! frown.gif

Link to comment
Share on other sites
realitytrip

realitytrip

Posted
Posted

Wow 893whatthe.gif Quite the weekend! Great story, and great find. I know the feeling when you find those hidden gems and it is indeed a great experience. I was hoping your find might have been of the 35 cent variety, but that is a great book no matter how you slice it (and discounting greggy's opinion tongue.gif)!

Link to comment
Share on other sites
lighthouse

lighthouse

Posted
  • Author
Posted
You need to bring a camera to these cons & road trips. We need pictures!!! 893frustrated.gif

 

I hope you're not suggesting I should have taken a picture of the prostitute...

 

"Babe" test indeed... tongue.gif

Link to comment
Share on other sites
lighthouse

lighthouse

Posted
  • Author
Posted

Here is a link to a MUCH larger scan of the book. I don't want to post it in the thread because the screen will stretch too much. But for those who may be interested, here's a link:

 

Link to 428K Scan of Weird Wonder Tales 15 Price Variant

 

I'd like to have a deal done by Thursday on this book...

Link to comment
Share on other sites
lighthouse

lighthouse

Posted
  • Author
Posted
I hope you're not suggesting I should have taken a picture of the prostitute...

 

"Babe" test indeed... tongue.gif

Well she can't be much worse than some of those butterfaces in the babe test. insane.gif

 

You have no idea... truly no idea...

 

And as for the feds, the State Trooper ran my license when he stopped to assist me, so it would appear that my status on the watchlist has been downgraded... either that or they couldn't get enough backup to the location in time so they chose to let me go rather than risk an incident... sumo.gif

Link to comment
Share on other sites
Go to topic listing