Anyway, Arkham Studios was where Andrew and talentlessclod were hanging out, as they prepare for the Fangoria-con this weekend in Burbank. I know Warren is psyched to meet the blackest of the four Ghostbusters. We stole the out-of-towners away from Bryan&Heather and navigated our way to Mexicali. Those reviews are all-too-right about the long wait to get seated. We were smushed into the bar, cheek-by-jowl with large-breasted women and their players pretending to be Players. Welcome to Hollywoo... er... Studio City.
We talked all kinds of nonsense at the bar and in the booth, while sipping some greenish tinged water pretending to be a margarita. On the other hand, the food was surprisingly good, I thought.
Afterwards, we dropped off the visitors (but before stranding them in the Valley, I'll plug Andrew's book on Lovecraftian films, now in a much larger second edition) and headed back to civilization.
There was vague talk of another get-together at Nova Express tonight.
Ok, now for the not the news.
Somethingawful's critique of fantasy art is pretty funny:
Can you imagine walking around and seeing that happening? Like, "oh man, there are dinosaurs everywhere. Holy crap, that volcano just exploded!" Then you look over and you see these two super hot babes pulling each other's hair and getting all sweaty. They don't care about the volcano or the dinosaurs, they're just so into their fight that it doesn't matter. That is master painting. Also, I think this picture says something about racism and how it even existed during the time of dinosaurs. That's just the layers of the onion that Boris Vallejo paints into his pictures.
And I give you the best of the Photoshop Phriday on misspelled movies. (and one more for Becca)