Here I am demonstrating the proper way to limp a wrist to an ignorant, yet attentive Feo Amante.  Mike Huyck strikes a Vanna White pose And Teri Jacobs laughs smugly at the confusion displayed upon the faces of our Irish and Italian Ambassadors at our overtly sissy behavior.  Wait a minute.  That's Mike Oliveri there in the middle.  Why is he looking at me like that?  What does that smile mean?  Is that a diet coke in his pants or is he just.......nevermind.

Left To Right At The Top John Urbancik, Rain Graves, Mike Oliveri, Michael McCarty, Mark McLaughlin,and Julie Morales.  Left to right on the floor is James Futch, me, Feo Amante, Rain Graves, a smirking Brian Keene, and a happy Michael Huyck.   What?  Happy?  Whoaaaa!  Why is he happy and why is Brian flinching?  Jesus, I think his Navy is showing.

From Left to Right, standing we have Mike Bracken and Laura Elvin, Tom Piccirilli, Mike Oliverie, me, Mike Huyck, Regina Mitchell, Geoff, peeking over Geoff's head is writer Ryan Harding, then barely visible is Julie Morales, followed by Teri Jacobs, John Pelan, and Dick Laymon.   Seated we have Tim (I am not David Whitman) Lebbon, GAK peeking over his head, James Futch, Brian Keene, Empress  Rain Graves and Mark Laughlin.  Stretched out on the floor is British writer Gavin Williams.  And would you believe that there was free beer for everyone?

Two Rare Specimens

"Here sit Sephera Giron and Weston Ochse behind the Darktales table waiting upon unsuspecting readers to pass.  Notice their natural camouflage?  Weston appears simple, his only thoughts pride and happiness.  See Sephera?  The Sirens of Homer had less of an attraction as her Come Hither look.  Many have been fooled.  That's how I lost Bob.  No more wild water buffalo castrations, no more tagging a hungry hippo.  Please, Folks.  Don't fall the fate of Bob."  Marlin Perkins, Host of the now canceled, Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. 

Richard Laymon

This was the first time I'd met Richard.  I am so happy I did, because this was his last World Horror Convention.  Dick died on February 14, 2001.  To say he was wonderful would be an understatement.  We miss him and we always will.
 

WHC 2000
(Dealer's Room)

Damn Groupies

Yvonne Navarro ignores the restraining order and once again attempts to become my second skin, jumping me from a dead rush. 
"Don't," I said. 
"Stop," I said. 
"Don't Stop," I said.

John Urbancik is making a sad attempt of touching his tongue to his nose.  Me, known throughout Asia for my ability to tie a tautline hitch with said muscle, comes to the rescue and and I begin my instruction as an unknown bearded fellow looks on with strangely intense interest.

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother

Since I have no memory of this picture ever happening, there is little that I can say other than while I was pretending evidently to be the Schlitz Malt Liquor Bull, there were several men on the bed.  From bottom to top, Vince Harper, Brian Keene and Tim (I am Not David Whitman) Lebbon yelling YeeeeHaaaaa.
 
 
 

WHC 2000
(Overhead Walkway)

"No officer, we haven't been drinking for two days straight.  We are really sober.  See how we can look at you and ignore the red and white striped antlers sprouting out of the back of your head, not to mention the captivating purple multi-faceted bug eyes.  So, as you see, we are really okay.  Fine actually, so may we pass?  Oh.  You mean who is that woman Feo is carrying?  What do you mean you think she is dead?"

Sigh.

"You had to ask that didn't you.  You know, you really shouldn't have.  Now we have to kill you."