Black Jesus Returns


     Brad was traipsing along one day, absentmindedly checking his phone when he scrolled across some distressing news!!!

     “Maaan, they made Ariel black?! That’s bullshit!!!”, he exclaimed loudly to no one in particular. “God damned social justice warrior bullshit! Fucking snowflakes! Jesus Chri…”, and before he could even finish that sentence, the sky opened up and a beam of light shone down from on high and on that beam was the Lord Savior, Jesus Christ of Nazareth, motherfuckers!!!

     Jesus was resplendent in his simple robes and his dope Nike sandals. “You called, bruh?” Brad was shocked. He wasn’t shocked because he was standing in the presence of God, he was shocked because Jesus was as brown as dark stained wood with a curly fro that was the most perfect he’s ever seen. “Wha…who are you?” “I’m Jesus, my dude! Why you trippin’ about a fictional character?” Jesus was curious to hear Brad’s answer. “Wait, Jesus is white! You’re blaspheming!!” Brad retorted. Jesus gets this a lot. “Naw, homey. Why would you expect someone born in the Middle East, in what is modern day Israel, to be Caucasian? How many crackas you know from there?”

     “I don’t believe you. You’re just fucking around! Wentworth? Is that you, dude? Blackface is wrong, guy!” Brad chuckled like someone who didn’t really think blackface is wrong. Jesus saw through his lie. “Fuck you, Brad. I’ve seen your Facebook profile. Those party pictures lead me to believe you love blackface. Blackface IS wrong, by the way.” Brad was offended. “Jesus doesn’t curse!! My profile is set to friends only!!!” Brad has begun to sweat ever so slightly, as if he is being judged, and he isn’t sure he’s getting a good score so far. Jesus noted his discomfort, and got up to his neck in Brad’s ass. “FUCK YOU, BRAD. I’M JESUS, MOTHERFUCKER. I CAN DO WHATEVER I DAMN WELL PLEASE!”, Jesus said, his voice echoed, booming with the deepness of James Earl Jones and the swagger of Samuel L. Jackson. He calmed himself and continued. “Now, why you drinking so much Hater-aid? You done given yo self haterbetes!!! 

     Brad chose his words carefully. “Uh, well, cause she’s always been white. It’s integral to the character.” Jesus’ dark eyes rolled until you could see the whites clearly. “Brad, she’s fictional half fish, half human. Her color ain’t got shit to do with anything. Now, if she was say, Black Panther or someone playing Martin Luther King Jr., then sure, color would be integral to the character. This is not one of those situations.” Brad decided to get brave. “Hollywood and other people are just doing diversity for the sake of diversity!!! Women and woke snowflakes are ruining it!”

     Jesus got out his golden pic, which he did when he was really trying to make a point, puffed out his magical afro, then spoke. “So, let me get this straight. The Caucasian man has been overwhelmingly represented in all forms of media, history, and religion forever. You have played people of color such as African and native Americans and portrayed them as racist stereotypes mind you. You have forced your religion on people who were happy as they were. You have written history books in your own image making the white man the hero when, much of the time, they were the villain. You continue trying to hide behind the law to try and force your religious and moral views on women who are quite content and capable of making decisions about their own bodies. You blame your inability to find jobs on brown immigrants who are, without complaint, doing the jobs you refuse to do then in the same breath you call them lazy criminals who are a burden on the system. You are born with a built in opportunity to receive every privilege there is, yet you are pissy and moany about everything! I have a theory: Maaaaaaaaybe you feel threatened that your majority and self granted, in your mind superiority is quickly eroding. By 2050, white people will not only be a physical minority, but a vocal one. If you want to cry ’bout that go ahead. Your fate was sealed over 250 years ago when slave massa couldn’t keep his white cockship Enterprise out of all those black holes. Your people have enslaved and subjugated just about every non-white race on Earth and even some of your own people!!! So….YOU DON’T GET TO BITCH ABOUT A GOD DAMNED FICTIONAL MERMAID’S COLOR….NIGGGGGA.”

     Lightning struck close-by with a rolling rumble of deep, bone rattling thunder as if for emphasis. “Ooops, sorry Dad! I forget every time.”

     Brad listened this supposed Jesus’ rant and doubled down on stupidity. You never ever double down on stupidity. “I’m just saying white men are under attack for no reason. All this #MeToo shit and social justice agenda has me not knowing how to act is all I’m saying.” Jesus had it. “YOU DON’T ACT LIKE AN ENTITLED, MISOGYNISTIC, SEXUALLY ASSAULTING, RACIST DOUCHEBAG!!! You know what?” Jesus cracked his knuckles, “You gon learn today!!! BLACKNESS!!!!”, Jesus intoned, and there was a dark cloud that began to swirl around Brad. His skin began to turn the color of dark chocolate, his naturally wavy blonde hair curled up tightly and became like black wool, and he grew 4 solid inches….in height. “There, now you black!!! Now you will know all about how minorities live their lives in fear.”

     Brad, now black as a windowless room with the lights turned off, continued his run towards the stupidity hall of fame. “Oooooh, can I say nigga, now?” As soon as the word left his mouth a police cruiser pulled up and flashed it’s lights. WOOP WOOP! The officer got out of the car. “Hey, you live around here? Let me see your ID.” Brad had never been stopped walking before. “Of course. Sorry, officer, I was talking to Jesus here….?” Jesus had faded away like a sweet jumper and was nowhere to be found. “Jesus, huh?”, the officer said, obviously unconvinced. “Is Jesus one of your mexican gangbanging homies?” Brad was still approaching the situation as if he was white. “No, officer. Why are you stopping me? I’ve done nothing wrong. Why do you need to see my license?!”

     Now the cop was getting riled. “Look, boy, don’t question me when I ask you to do something!!! Show me your FUCKING LICENSE!!!” Brad relented, still giving attitude. “Fine! Calm down. Here is my license.” Brad hands the cop his license. The cop takes it and looks at it with a puzzled look on his face. “Is this a fucking joke? Whose license is this?!” “Mine!”, Brad chirped, his voice betraying the fact that he just now remembered that Jesus turned him black but his driver’s license still shows a white dude’s photo. Things are not going well. “I mean, uh, Jesus turned me black, but I promise that’s me. officer!” The cop remained highly skeptical. “Are you one of those crazies? Too much of the crack cocaine, boy?!!! Huh?!” The cop reached for his radio to call dispatch to prepare for an ambulance to take Brad to a hospital for psych eval. Brad’s heart was in his throat. Why was this happening? He moved towards the officer to explain…

     “DON’T YOU TAKE ANOTHER STEP, MOTHERFUCKER, OR I’LL FUCKING DROP YOU!!!”, the officer screamed as he pulled his service weapon from its holster and trained it on Brad. “WOAH!! PLEASE DON’T SHOOT, MAN!!! I DON’T WANT TO DIE!!!”, Brad cried as he covered his face and curled up in total crippling fear. Just then there was another lightning crack and thunder roil. Brad looked up at the officer and in his place was Jesus, picking out his ‘fro again, laughing. “Hahahahahaha, you should have seen your face, Brad! You went ashy as fuck, dude!” Jesus pulled a fat joint from the nether, lit it, and took a long drag. Brad stood up and dusted himself off. He looked at his hand and noticed it was white again. He was white again!!! “Jesus….”, Brad started, but Jesus interrupted. “That’s Black Jesus, bitch. You give a shit about a white mermaid princess now?”

     Brad, shaken and thankful to be alive and returned to his normal state, measured his words and spoke, “I mean, making her black is just pandering to the PC left media….” BOOM!!!!! There was a bright flash of light! When it subsided, Brad was gone. There was nothing but a pile of ash next to a pair of smoking boat shoes. Jesus got on the radio in the cruiser. “Yeah, Uncle Beezy? What up, my smokey nigga?!!! I got another one for Hitler’s work detail.”

     Thank you for reading. I am rusty and this was meh, but it’s a story. I have been promising forever to do more stories. Now that I have a new gifted laptop, there will certainly be more of my satire and twisted sense of humor.

Sincerely,

The Geekfather

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Broke Geek Problems.


BlurredNerds Logo

If you are listening (and why wouldn’t you?!) to the Blurred Nerds Podcast (clicky linky), you are aware that The Geekfather will be attending Fan Expo Dallas on 3/31 with fellow GeekVengers Courtney and Travis. 

I was initially excited about the opportunity to meet Mark Hamill and get him to autograph my Empire Strikes Back lunchbox, but unfortunately that will not be happening as the cost of his autograph is $195 dollars! So it’s either pay rent or get his autograph. I can’t live on the streets clutching that lunchbox begging for change.

There’s no debating that celebrity autographs and VIP packages have become prohibitively expensive. Many fans do not have the disposable income to spend on a person’s signature. You already spend a bunch to get in to the event and on merchandise so another 2 bills to get one autograph is insane. As someone who has gone to conventions for the past 20 years pretty regularly, I have seen the costs jump quite a bit. No living person’s signature should cost almost $200 bucks.

This makes me sad, really, as I have been a huge fan of Mark Hamill and his work for most of my life. I understand that the prices most times are not set by the celebrity themselves but their agents and handlers. Still, it has me feeling like a huge portion of the fan base gets left out in the cold due to prices being what they are.

What do you think, readers? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

Teenage Mutant Ninjacking Turtle!


*DISCLAIMER* THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING. YOU WON’T LOOK AT NINJA TURTLES THE SAME IF YOU READ THIS. IF YOU CHOSE TO CONTINUE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. YOU’LL EITHER LAUGH YOUR ASS OFF OR NEVER COME HERE AGAIN.

 

 

 

 

Michelangelo was in his room relaxing after yet another tough street fight with the Foot Clan. He and his brothers fought Shredder and tore him a new turtlehole as usual. He retreated like a punk bitch as usual. While on the way home, Rocksteady and Beebop thought they could take advantage of the situation, but those fools got schooled too.
“No chance.” Mikey mumbled out loud to himself. Mikey was so awesome during that fight, literally yelling out “I’m righteous wicked, dude!!!!” He was chilling out waiting for the pizza guy to show (why they allow the pizza guy to see their hidden underground lair was beyond him) when his thoughts drifted to April O’Neil, the crack field reporter. She was always there on the scene, getting footage of them, helping in their fight, and inevitably needing their protection. His room was adorned with a disturbing amount of pictures of her, especially involving her ample breasts.
Mikey realized his little turtle was out of its shell. He was a teenager and the hormones were strong, even more so enhanced by the green radioactive ooze. Daredevil went blind and got enhanced senses and sonar, while all Mikey got was becoming a teenage mutant ninja turtle that got the most inappropriate monster boners. Right now was one of those times. “I got time before the pizza gets here! I can’t deny the TURTLE POWER!!!!!”
He found himself staring at all his April pictures on his wall like a horny teenager…who happens to be a six foot seven, 450lb turtle. Leo, Raph, and Donnie all thought he was crazy for being hot for a human woman. Raph was always saying “Turtles can’t bone people, ya numbskull!!! There are laws!” Well, he was a dreamer! Those titties of hers were always straining against her stupid yellow jumpsuit. “How many of those fucking things does she own?” Mikey thought to himself. Those thoughts led him to pull out “The Box” under his bed. The one that had the ‘more adult’ stuff he had of hers, which included a pair of her panties. Mikey had lifted a pair from her dresser when they were scouting her apartment after they first met her. Raph said it was to make sure she was “Cool n’ shit.” The panties were yellow. All of her panties were yellow. “What’s her deal with yellow, anyway?” He figured she wouldn’t miss a pair.
“Oh, April, let me help you out your jumpsuit…oh what I’m going to do to you…” Mikey was now in full furious stroke when April burst into his room..
“MIKEY!!! WE GOT A LEAD ON…..HOLY SHIT, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!!!!” April was mortified.
Mikey recoiled in shock and embarrassment. He fumbled with her panties and was trying to put his monster back in the shell.
“THE FUCK, MIKEY?! HOW DID YOU GET A PAIR OF MY PANTIES?! WHY WERE YOU MASTURBATING WITH THEM? GOD, WHY DOES YOUR PENIS LOOK LIKE THAT ALIEN GOO SNAKE FROM ‘PROMETHEUS’?! Even in absolute horrific shock, April still asked a ton of questions.
Mikey paused, still holding her yellow panties, “Uhhhh, what answer would get you to not tell Master Splinter about this? I mean, I borrowed a pair from your dresser when we were scoping your pad, dude. They were all yellow! I didn’t think you’d miss one pair! As for my penis, I’m a turtle. I have a turtle dick. You ever see a turtle dick?”
“NOOOOOOO!!!!! EWWWW!!!! WHY WOULD I LOOK FOR TURTLE DICK ON THE INTERNET?!” April was fuming now
“Curiosity? Once you go green…..”
“AHHHHGGGGHHH!!!! NOOO!!! THOSE WERE MY FAVORITE PAIR!!!! April interrupted.
Mikey was puzzled. “How can you tell?”
“I…JUST KNOW! DON’T JUDGE ME!!! MASTER SPLINTER!!!!! COME HERE!!!” The judgment in April’s eyes was unmistakable. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re so busted.”
Master Splinter appeared as if out of nowhere into the doorway, looking very grim and serious as always. “What….is the problem, my dear April?”
“I caught MICHELANGELO plaaaaaaying with himself while fondling and sniffing my panties!!!”
Splinter looked away from April and directly at a very guilty Mikey. “Yes….your favorite yellow ones…” Splinter whispered softly to himself with a wistful glint in his eye.
April shot a glare at Splinter. “What?!” Splinter recovered like a ninjitsu  master. “Oh, nothing, nothing.” Splinter rose, back straight, “MICHELANGELO!!!!! YOU HAVE BROUGHT SHAME UPON THIS HOUSE!!! APOLOGIZE AT ONCE FOR YOUR DEVIANT BEHAVIOR!!!!”
Mikey was still trying to shrink his boner now hidden under his Incredible Hulk bed sheets. He was still staring at her breasts, which seemed to heave to and fro and almost throb on their own. How did her top remain closed. It was like she was wearing a smedium on purpose. “I’m sorry, April. I hadn’t ever planned for you to catch me ninjacking…”
“LOOK AT HER EYES!!!!” Splinter commanded. He was staring at her chest too, but he was better at hiding it. He missed being a human at times like this so much. Mikey raised his eyes to meet April’s. “I’m sorry. Do….you…want your panties back, dude?”
“EWWW, NOOOO!!!! BURN THOSE!!!!” April yelled. Then, composing herself, said more calmly “It is ok, I GUESS. Just…give me a lot of space. I don’t want to see you near my stuff again!”
Mikey looked over at Splinter, who returned his gaze with a look of stern disapproval. The stare burned through Mikey’s soul. “Ok.” Mikey said with the tone of a child who disappointed his parent.
“April, I apologize for my student’s actions. I will reprimand him accordingly. He will learn his lesson well.” Splinter was shrunken now in his standard slumped posture, as if asking for April’s forgiveness.
“Good! I’m…going to go now and pretend I never had this experience.I don’t know why I thought a turtle dick would look like a human dick.I need a drink.” The words trailed off as she rushed out the door.
Splinter stared at Mikey for what seemed like a 1,000 years before he finally spoke. “Michelangelo, what is the lesson to learn from this?”
Mikey thought hard for a moment then offered his answer, “Don’t masturbate, Master Splinter?”
“NO!!!” Splinter bellowed. “LOCK. YOUR. DOOR.” Splinter looked at him more softly now. “Now, put away your weapon and wash your hands. The pizza is here. Don’t touch mine, please.”

One Lone Black Nerd I be


It started with the movies. I used to go with my parents to every damn show possible. Alien? “Isn’t 4 too young, Donald?” my mom would say. “He’s 4! What can he possibly remember from it? He’ll be fine” I imagine he retorted. I was not fine. I ended up being afraid of the dark the rest of my childhood. You just never knew if that pesky xenomorph was hiding in the ceiling ready to punch your face out with its tongue. However, with the fear came wondrous amazement, joy, and imagination. Even at that age I imagined myself the hero. That was 1979. I’d already been indoctrinated by Star Wars and I thought I was like every kid in those days; full of spirit, giggles, imagination, and joy.

 

Then we moved to Texas from the East Coast and I met my best friend for life, who introduced me to video games! 1983. I had an Atari 2600, then he had a Nintendo, and it escalated from there. Dungeons and Dragons, Doctor Who (we’re talking Tom Baker Doctor Who now), radio serials, Star Trek, GI Joe, Transformers. I was hooked, like every kid. It didn’t hit me that I was any different than any other kid, besides being the only black kid I knew besides my cousins. I began to notice I was the odd kid when I started doing the voices of the characters from the cartoons whose toys I cherished. After all, Optimus Prime can’t sound like Cobra Commander and Darth Vader isn’t as intimidating when he sounds like a spastic nine year old. The kids at school would tease which would cause me to become introverted and only share with those I trusted. “You’re a nerd! You can’t be a nerd! You’re black!”

Well, shit. I’m a black nerd. Those were the worst world ever spoken! Ok, not really, but I was a kid. Words stung, yo. When I was 12, I struggled with my nerd/geek desire to still keep and display my toys, but also struggled with the peer pressure to “grow up” and “be a young man”. It was awkward and it felt wrong, but I put my toys away. “Young black men your age do not play with toys! They play football or basketball or do something cool and athletic.” I heard it, even from my mother. It hurt.  Everyone seemed to want me to do it the way you’re supposed to. I wonder if I would have faced such pressure were I the innocent looking white kid like my best friend. Would I have gotten more of a pass? People tease and ridiculed the white geek kids too, but they always had a click or group they could fall into that looked like them, sounded like them, and didn’t get suspicious looks when they went somewhere together as a group.

So I stopped. I played football in middle and high school…until I discovered comic books. Then it was another obsession. I got a job just to pay for them because my exasperated mother was not gonna pay for “One more damned comic book!” (I find out years later that she was a geek growing up too in an even harder time for black nerds. She had her own comic collection. We would watch movies together and nerd out in later years) I spent half my life in the comic shop. I felt at home, but I was usually always the only black guy in there, reading stories about white, homogenous heroes saving the world. I always wondered why there weren’t more. Where were the people who looked like me?

As I got into my twenties and turned my attention to trying to reach for a career in media, I started to really understand that I was an anomaly. The creators and artists who made the fantastic universes I would get lost in wrote and drew what they knew. They were majority white, and even more majority male. I was an exception to the standard geek rule. So that meant I was in an even more exclusive club. I had panache. I was cool by virtue of my rarity, like an Action Comics #1! The rest of these guys were just silver foiled, variant covered 1991 X-Men #1’s! I started to find heroes like Luke Cage, The Falcon, Spawn, Cyborg, Bishop,John Stewart Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter (dammit, he’s no Martian, he’s a Space Brutha)  and Deathlok. Men who looked like me (except Deathlok, that bruh got jacked up!) rising up and being the hero of the story; fighting injustice. Being a black hero became so damned cool, they went and made honky Nick Fury into Shaft!!!! I still love that one, especially now that he’s a fan favorite.

Now I’m in my early 40’s I see a subtle shift. I take pride in the fact that Dwayne McDuffie (RIP) is one of the most revered writers and creators ever in comics. These days my extended family and many of my friends still don’t quite get the level to which I nerd out and I don’t bore them to sleep with my obsessions, but they see my happiness and they get that. Though they usually stop listening after I start discussing the scientific reasoning behind Superman’s powers or why Batman is still better (He’s the God Damned Batman!). Now that being geeky is a mainstream, popular thing, I’m pleased. It’s a Golden Age! Now that it is mainstream means that more and more young black men and women will discover the wonders of geekdom and not be faced with being so alone in a crowd, if you get what I mean.

I used to feel like the odd man out, but now I don’t feel so awkward as I attend comic cons. I feel like an attraction, but in the best, most positive way possible. Maybe that’s maturity and learning to accept who I am and not worry all that much with other’s impressions. I feel like I’m the voice there to keep it honest and not let things stay the way they have been. I’ve picked up the mantle and I’m one of the trailblazers now!

I was totally a nerd before it was cool.

Damn, does that make me a hipster? I do have a Chewbacca beanie…..

Mystery Dick Theater: Cock’s Last Day


This blog is about dicks; not figurative dicks, but literal dicks.

“Uh, ok.” I can hear you say it now, but bear with me. I had posted an article on my Facebook profile a few days ago about NBA player and doofus Draymond Green “accidentally” posting a picture to his entire Snapchat TL of his penis. My dear friend Elizabeth Anne Hamilton and I entertained ourselves immensely and gloriously lewdly posting comments about it as if his penis was getting a performance review from the boss.  Here now, is how, if his dick was being reviewed like they do in the workplace, I think it would go….

Big Dick (President and founder of Big Dick Pics): “Cock! Cock Johnson! Cum in here!”

In strolls Cock to Dick’s office, erect, excited to receive a stroking. “What’s up, Big Dick?! You yelled for me?”

Big Dick: “So we need to talk about your performance….”

Cock: “Damn straight! You like that Dick Pic I dropped on that girl’s Snapchat?! I was all oiled up and shiny, like a boss!” Cock was pleased with himself as he gently throbbed.

BD: “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that CJ. That pic went to EVERYONE’S TL, you penis! Which would be salvageable, but, well….you were looking listless and droopy. The Lighting was poor!  I really think you could do better. Have you considered further training?”

CK: “I don’t understand BD. I flog everyday!!! Never skip a day!!!  I’m like a rock!”

BD: “Well, by the looks of this pic, more like a soft pebble. Maybe you’re jacking too hard? Maybe you need some help? Viagra? Your medical plan covers it. You should look into it. You know how us older penises get. I take it, there’s no shame there.”

CK: “Fuck that, BD! I don’t use performance enhancers!!! That’s for those bullshit movie penises! I’m a real phallus! I go all natural.”

BD: “Can you maybe get more erect?”

CK: “Dammit boss, I am ballin’ so hard! I’m one of your best members! I mean, I know I’m not as big as Mandingo Jones, but I got moves! I work what I got.”

BD: “Mandingo is our star right now, Cock. He’s like a battering ram. He’s curiously frightening, which is good. You’ve fallen off. We hired you because of your plucky spirit and you were always ready to go at a moment’s notice. The hint of cleavage, a wisp of panty line, a breeze…and you sprung into action.  Now….you’re soft.  I’m afraid I’m going to have to write you up for a poor attitude. Please bear in mind you have been warned. The next time we catch you sleeping on the job, you’re sacked.”

Cock Johnson begins to throb faster now. Part anger and part sadness, he bursts into tears. “I’m…I’m not 17 anymore…I….I’ve been having trouble at home…and…..” The throbbing is now reaching a crescendo.

BD: Oh, no, stop crying……. OH GOD, THOSE AREN’T TEARS!!! WHAT IS THAT COMING OUT OF YOUR EYE? DAMMIT, COCK, YOU’RE FIRED!!! We can’t have that kind of a mess here! After that outburst, I’m afraid you’ll need to pack up your desk and leave the premises. We can’t have that kind of a mess here.

CK, between spurts: “Is there severance pay?”

BD: “WE DON’T TALK ABOUT THAT!!!!!” Big Dick hardens himself, “I’m afraid I can’t answer questions about unemployment insurance. You’ll need to contact HR about that. Also, I’m afraid our company will not be giving you a reference. Now, pack your things and security will help you pull out.”

Cock is now deflated. He feels half the size he was when he walked in the office. “I can’t believe I’ve been dicked. What will I do now?” Cock mutters to himself as he hangs a left down the exit hallway….

There you are. That’s where my brain went with that. Go find the original thread on my page. Until next time!

PILLOW, TIMMY!

It’s Not Your Body to Shame.


Today I want to talk a little bit about a subject that many of my close friends and I have strong feelings about: body shaming.

Many of my close friends are cosplayers. Cosplaying is the act of dressing up as one of your favorite characters from a comic, game, movie, tv show, or anime/cartoon. I’ve done it a couple of times myself (stories for another time). I admire the craftsmanship, ingenuity, time, and effort that goes into making an outfit not to mention the bravery it takes to wear one. That bravery part brings me to the body shaming point. We all have insecurities about our bodies and have things we would like to change or wish were different about ourselves physically. Knowing that about myself and other people I always try my hardest to respect anyone and everyone who cosplays, regardless of their size, shape, sexual orientation, or ethnicity. None of that should even matter, ever. We are all just trying to have fun. The world at large is shitty and terrible enough that we don’t need to bring negative shit and heap it onto something that should be fun, whimsical, and light-hearted.

Unfortunately, not everyone is tolerant and understanding. Too many in the geek community and the populace in general will look at someone having fun in costume and take that opportunity to ridicule or make fun of them. What’s the point of that? You can’t make yourself feel good some other way? Do you feel threatened? You see something you don’t understand so you have to be afraid of it and throw shade upon the person? Or maybe you are ashamed knowing that you don’t have the fucking balls to cosplay yourself due to your own insecurities? How dare they dress up and have fun! That makes me mad because I’m too chicken myself and too afraid of what people will think of me! Oooooh, let me take it out on them.

Muppets-Meme

I hate intolerance of any kind. We are a geek community and we have to support and accept one another. We are all different, we all have different likes and dislikes, but we are all still in this together. I had a friend of mine, Jonathan Vela, Aquaman of San Antonio, who would dress up as Aquaman all the time. That was his favorite character. He was the sweetest, nicest, most heartwarming fellow ever. He would help anyone he could personally and through many charities by making appearances in costume at children’s hospitals and birthday parties. The kids always thought it was amazing and a blast. His message was always that anyone can cosplay any character they wish, no matter what. It’s the love of the character that mattered. He wasn’t a small man, but it didn’t matter. He was having fun and nothing you could say could ever change that.

Sadly, he passed away a few years ago. I bring this up because just the other day, I saw a post on Facebook by a friend detailing a post he saw on Instagram. It was a body shaming meme that featured Jonathan. Did this guy know Jonathan? I don’t know, but that doesn’t matter. It was in poor taste. The man is dead and unable to defend himself. He was a huge personality in South Texas and even beyond. I am proud to know that many came to his defense and voiced their anger at that post and reported it to be taken down. I hope those efforts were successful.

 

Episode 3: The Holidays Awaken


 

 

On this episode, Lil Bit and I discuss unending Force Awakens trailers, best Christmas gifts evah, holiday memories, wishlists, and I beg just about the entire known universe for an Xbox One. So click the picture and sit down for an hour of fun and geek frivolity! We’ll be back soon with all new musings and rants to sate your geek appetite.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, VENGERS!!!