Wizards and Wands: The Fyre Fest of Nerdy Bar Crawls

Not all events can be winners. Wizard and Wand in Raleigh had all the ingredients for success, but unfortunately it turned out to be a boggart.

I had seen the event and since several of my friends are major Potter-heads I thought it could be fun. I'm down for anything involving crafts and costumes. Eddie went ahead and bought a ticket while they were on sale for $22. I procrastinated as I often do. A little closer to the event they put up a post asking for people to work the event. Eddie and I actually love that type of thing, so we figured why not. It was only a 3 hour shift to help them get started and you got a free wristband for the rest of the night, not a bad gig. We checked in at 2pm and helped hang a few things on the walls. By 2:30 the line was already starting. They gave us an extremely fast crash course and set us up with our jobs. I was punching tickets for the swag table and Eddie was just supposed to direct the crowd towards the table. The line was endless. From 2:45 until 5pm I punched tickets non-stop.

I have to admit this was probably the most polite crowd I've ever worked. Even after waiting for hours—yes hours—not a single person was rude by the time they got to us. There were some great costumes in the bunch. You could really feel the crowd’s excitement; everyone was pumped to be there (or at least faking it for their date). A couple of people had asked about a scarf that was supposed to be included, but we had no idea about any of that and they didn't make a fuss, so I didn't really think much of it. Unfortunately, it turns out that there was supposed to be completely different items offered at the swag booth, including a Hogwarts scarf and a butter beer (which turned out to be a 2oz sample). That was not clearly mentioned to the volunteers or the crawlers so it left a bad taste for many people. The wands that were promised were chopsticks dipped in wax, and the cup was just a cheap plastic cup with advertising space. They did give out Kind Bars though, so there’s that.

   

As 5 o'clock drew closer I was ready to go. I'd been using a hole punch for hours and was ready for a drink. Eddie's position was more flexible so he attempted to find someone in charge to let them know we were leaving and to get our wristbands. He couldn’t find anyone in charge. At 5, we did our best to cover our posts and left. The line when we got outside was unbelievable! Our friends had come to Raleigh to join us, and they got there at 3:30. They were just then, an hour and a half later, getting wristbands. They weren’t even inside the first bar, yet! As a group we decided to give up on the opener bar, and head directly to the 2^nd. The line here, too, was around the block. Nope. So we decided to head to the park area where they had the rest of the festivities. As we drew near, we saw a long line here too, and gave up.

We wandered around Raleigh and made our way to several bars. One bar, I can’t remember the name, WAS affiliated with the crawl, however it was not on the program list and was empty. Everywhere we walked, we saw Hogwarts students who had given up on the crawl proper and were just wandering.

From what we saw, and the outcry from social media, the Wizard and Wand Bar Crawl was definitely not a hit. People were cold, waiting in long lines. The swag that was promised was mediocre at best, if they existed at all. It was poorly organized and not well executed for the amount of people that showed up. But, luckily for us, we can have fun anywhere if we have the right people around us.

Ain’t No Party Like a Grown Folks Party!

~Riss and Edd

Look at that sweet line-up!

A grown folk party don’t stop! Riss and I are gifted with dumb luck at weird times. I’ve won a free tattoo, a diamond tennis bracelet, several concerts, all from just entering random stuff. This time, Riss won a cabin on Ship Hop 2018. What is Ship Hop you ask? Ship Hop—Hip Hop on a Ship, get it?—is part music fest, part nostalgia fueled fever dream, all fun! Though not a “music fest” in the traditional sense, it was a 4-day voyage of concerts, meet and greets, Q&As, and much more. It was our version of a luxurious music experience, and luckily for all of us, Ja Rule had nothing to do with it. (That was a Fyre Fest joke, kids.)

Look at that thing, so scandalous

Riss and myself have both been on several cruises, but as soon as we stepped on board we knew this one would be different. Right away we heard unedited versions of Ain’t Nothing but a G Thang and Gangsta’s Paradise in the main atrium. Everyone was immediately excited to talk to strangers, almost like they were old friends, and bonded over a shared appreciation of a simpler time. It was like a reunion. Generations of family members traveled together, but left the kids at home.  We saw less than a dozen children the entire trip. Nearly everyone seemed over the age of 25. Almost nobody was awake before 10AM. There were costumes everywhere. It was our type of crowd, our type of weird, and it was heavenly.

Even Rob got in on the action..
 #flatrob!

But let’s talk about the real reason we’re all here: The artists. These dudes killed it! Despite jokes from Kid N Play and others about being old, they were still full of energy, and their voices were as good as ever. Sisco hasn’t aged a day since Thong Song, though he’s still REALLY into his “Dragon” persona from the early 2000’s, which hasn’t aged nearly as well as he has. Despite being over 60, DJ Kool was bouncing around stage, having way more energy even than some in the crowd. There were rough seas due to some storms in the Gulf of Mexico, but the dancers were still landing backflips on stage. Young MC can still flow with his “Fastest Rhyme,” and Salt N Pepa are still looking and sounding great and even showcased some of their more recent music! I’m not going to say that hearing a version of Gansta’s Paradise performed by Coolio in front of a live band was life changing, but I will never be the same again. 

Mr Loc, I must say that Blank Check
changed my life. 

During the last concert on the last night, Riss and I both fucked around and became non-ironic Vanilla Ice fans. Vanilla Ice was, by far, the hardest working promoter on that ship. He was in just about every performance we watched, whether he was slated or not. He hosted a beach party at Paradise Beach during the day in Cozumel. He was loose with the tequila at the bars, and was always ready and willing with a smile, a photo, and an autograph. 

During the first day, Vanilla Ice said that “We’re all teenagers this week.” These guys took that challenge to heart. These people raged until 4 AM every morning, and kept going the next day. This would be a theme throughout the entire cruise, even the last night, when we all had to be off the ship by 8AM. 50 year olds were partying circles around my 31-year-old ass. This was easy to do because there was more than just the music. This is why I wouldn’t refer to this as a “music festival” but more of a “music experience.” In addition to the normal band/fest swag, there was also both a body paint booth, and an airbrush station.  I’ll say that again for the hard of hearing: there was a damn body paint booth in the main drag of this cruise ship. They set up events like dance lessons with Salt n Pepa’s and Sisco’s dancers. There were meet and greets with everybody that were completely free. There was even an event called “Cooking with Coolio.” There was an artist Q&A, where I learned that Salt n Pepa and Kid n Play all used to work at the same Sears store at the same time. I got my picture with a freaking movie quality NINJA TURTLE!! During the comedy show, a cruise-ship staple, Kid from Kid n Play got on stage as the MC. I had no idea Kid was so funny. If he had a Netflix special, I’d watch the hell out of it.

At the end of the 4 days, Riss and I had made some friends, I discovered a love of new (old) music and songs, and had a GREAT time. I would recommend Ship Hop to anybody that wants the feel of a multiple stage, multiple day music experience, but also wants a warm shower and a comfy bed. It was a beautifully diverse and accepting crowd. As Vanilla Ice kept reminding us, “get in where you fit in”.

Sports? Fights! Insanity.

Riss and I were in Ohio for Thanksgiving and while we were there, I scored free tickets from a family member for us to attend a local, minor league hockey game. The Cleveland Monsters are the closest thing we have to a pro hockey team. "Pro sports" is an extremely lenient term Ohio uses for the teams we pour money into up there. Well, we went to “The Q" or Quicken Loans Arena. Any Ohio sports fan will know this is the home of the Cleveland Cavaliers.

All that means nothing to Carissa. She doesn't give a damn about sports. Any sport. Now, I need to point out that I've never been a hockey fan, or known too much about it. So, when I got the tickets, I got really excited to go to start watching a new sport. Plus, the Monsters are supposed to be pretty good. Finally, a sports team Cleveland can believe in! (Spoiler alert: they lost) I was ready for the experience. Carissa had doubt in her eyes, but still was more than willing because she will try almost anything once.

90% Preperation
200% Perspiration

We arrive, and we're only a few rows up from the ice. I venture off and find some nourishment, and by that, I mean I located some $3 beer and overpriced, but tasty, wings. Carissa watches the players skate around and warm up. When I get back she goes, “Why is the field so small? I thought it would be bigger”, but at the time she can’t explain WHY she had this thought. It turns out, my wife did “know” a couple things about hockey: there are fights and it's played on ice. This, to her, meant it would be played in a frozen tundra, where human beings have only ventured once or twice before. She had begun the day wearing a coat, a sweater, a thermal, two scarves, a beanie, and some mittens. It's a comfortable sixty degrees inside the arena, and as soon as I return to our seats, Carissa immediately strips half of her warming layers. Only half though, she still looks like she is bracing for a storm, and now I look equally ridiculous buried under her discarded shame.

The game that day was the Cleveland Monsters and some team from Texas. Now, the Monster's mascot, for your information, is a monster poking the top of its head out above water. Carissa quickly pointed out that it's just an eyebrow wax away from copyright infringement. In all fairness, he does bare a striking resemblance to a certain creature, from an animated movie series about training large scaly mythical beasts. Anyway, the Texan team’s colors were green and white. The same green and white adorning the hoodie worn by yours truly. Shit, well too late to do anything about that now.

Pictured: The mascot equivalent of music sampling

As the players were called on the ice, the "humongatron", seriously, that's what they call it, the humongatron, told the crowd to "MAKE SOME NOISE". We disobeyed. Not just Carissa, my parents, and myself. No one among the crowd made any noise. The apathy was palpable.  The game soon begins and we sit there, somewhat confused about the exact rules. I know some basics about hockey and Carissa knows absolutely nothing, she is just hoping for a fight.

Pictured: Defiant Silence

Early in the 2nd period, she gets her wish. Two cats get into it. I glance at Carissa. She's grinning broadly, and slightly shadow boxing. I did the same thing when I was little and watched boxing with my father, so I recognized her unbridled joy. I also have to laugh about her open silliness, but that's part of why I love her. The two guys go at it for a minute or two, before making their way to the penalty box, or "hockey jail", as it was dubbed after that. You can guess who said that. She even pointed out it's convenient that they fought so close to it, so they wouldn't have to skate too far to it.

Pictured: The saddest cheer leader gig ever. 

Occasionally through all this, the humongatron continued its efforts to rouse us. It gradually became more effective. Near the third period, Carissa had a sudden epiphany. Out of nowhere, she shouts, “MIGHTY DUCKS! That’s why I thought that the rink was small! I guess because they’ll all children it just looked bigger.” Even the toughest of men couldn’t help but giggle heartily at this. More importantly (ridiculously), Carissa had tasted blood. She demanded another fight. She said random things to the players. "He kicked your dog", "He made out with your sister", "He said that the Starz original series Spartacus was better than Game of Thones!". She was really hoping for another one, even cheering when the original fighter hit the ice. This unfortunately never happened again, much to her chagrin.

My favorite part, through the thrill of the game, through the heat of the battle, was the humongatron. This thing was as silly as it could have possibly been. I watched seagulls sing and dance. I watched a Corgi twerk in multiple colors. It just continued to drag my mind through the lower rungs of insanity. It was just logically broken. It was LSD soaked nightmare fuel. I loved it.

At the end of the day, hockey is an awesome sport. I could never play it, but after this game, I actually would really enjoy watching it again in the future. Carissa still doesn't know a thing about the game, but she likes fights. I can drag her to many more games, a husband’s dream.

Analog Dating in the Digital World: Pretty Fly for a Fat Guy

~Edd

Ah, Tinder. The bittersweet shit show that is modern dating. Tinder is the digital equivalent of posting up at the bar and eye-fucking people across the room. Eye contact and a smile? Now you may approach. Now, as somebody with natural charm and a few extra pounds, that’s no obstacle as long as you’re willing to put in the work and approach first, lay on laughs and show them you’re what they actually want. 

Herein lies the problem with apps like Tinder, Bumble, and the lot. You have a profile, but the pictures are the most important thing. Unless there is a REASON to read the words there, nobody does. 

Now, on Tinder and Bumble, my charm means exactly dick. I am not allowed by the App to talk to people unless they find me attractive. I’m not able to coast by on my looks, being a bigger guy, I have to work for the attention I get. So, you may ask yourself, knowing these things, what’s a funny fat guy to do? Well I could write the words below my pictures and hope they chuckle and give me a chance. I could posts pictures that show I’m quirky and lovable, with puppies and costumes and bullshit like that. I could hope for a chub-chaser. All of these are too passive. I’m a brand new bitch that’s no longer waiting for things to just come to me.








So the big question: is it working? It's too early to know for sure, but the short answer is "Yeah, seems to." I've had 17 matches in 4 days, including 2 "super likes" and a few people even speaking FIRST. Compared to other tinder-attempts, that's damn solid. Most people comment on the pictures specifically. My favorite was one of the super likes that started the conversation with, "YOU BROUGHT YOUR A GAME!" 

So if you want to try something like this and have questions about logistics, comment below. Or, if you like what you see, slide on in my DMs, girl. Rawr

P.S. Totally kidding about the DMs part.