Continued from Part I.



We found the new public outdoor bathrooms. They're kind of cool. I had a piss.

Then we walked to the Prudential to go to the bar at the top.

Life is full of funny moments. We were walking inside the Prudential, in the galleria thing, and noticed some asshats. These were very particular asshats, though. Something smacked of organization. It was a little confusing at first, but suddenly the heavens opened, light shot down, and illuminated our minds with this simple, yet incredible fact: we had landed in the middle of a cosplay convention. Impossible. Impossibly good -- yet inescapably true! I could not believe our luck!







We pose with Captain Extra-Chromosomia and Squelch. I'm a bad one to be in these pictures because I'm too hilarified to not blow our cover. I can't fuking straightface it.








Just so you can get a sense of scale. This was big. Really big. The entrance fee was $30 but we smoothtalked the guard into letting us "register" which basically entailed trusting we'd go whereever the official registration desk was deep inside instead of wandering around taking pictures of the asshats. He knew what we were getting into.








These fags here are awesome. If you look close, Chester there has a paddle that says "Yaoi" on it. Never heard of Yaoi? Now you have. So these incredible shit-eaters are standing here taking their picture with us when someone leaving the con shouts "YAOI'S SICK!" and Chewbacca Lips looks at him all stunned like "why, what ever do you mean?"







Then we met Drizzt. The real Drizzt. Seriously! No, just some fag who painted his face black. I'm sure he would have been cosmically delighted to see the way my camera flash turned his eyes red.








I don't know what any of these biological failures are, but I know the one in the red wig is very serious about whatever it is.








Kahuna caught cuddling a shitty fourth-rate Pikachu clone.








The Warrior Twins.








GARRGHHH ASSHAT ACTION SHOT!








Pixie and friends. At first Kahuna only tempted the main pixie there to come up for pictures, and when I asked if we could get a shot of all three pixies, the thing on the far right, with the half-black face and the shitty plastic robot-claw thing goes, "I'm not a pixie! I'm an Apocalypse Robot and I could destroy the Earth... but I will let you take my picture." Like it was doing us a favor. Thanks, Apocalypse Robot. For not destroying us. Oh, your powers of fantasy are a testament to the stupidity of Man.








Mighty Morphin Power Ranger Faggot.









DOCTOR KEWB!









Again, I can't tell you what the fuk this thing is but the imbecile inside was distinctly uncomfortable, even after I told it to raise its arms in victory. It only gave a half-hearted attempt at victory and there were reports it could be heard squeaking in terror within the outfit.








From here, we left the con, much to the relief of the LBP and mundhar, who were sure we were going to get busted as impostors and leapt upon and torn to bits by angry waves of howling anime nerds. The rest of us were stifling giggles. It was nice because you could see the shame in the eyes of the victims when they realized we were observing them... but at the same time, hey, it was attention, after all. They were conflicted and tended to meekly comply with our wishes.

I think we could have ruled over them, given enough plastic trinkets and anime DVDs.








Ok, this chick was hot. I don't care about whatever you have to say about that.








I'm not made of wood, people. I suggest you click.








So we went to Bukowski's, where Mundhra got serious and LBP looked likely to barf. That's my man W. S. Burroughs over there behind Kahuna shooting gay beams into his bum.









This chick made a dirty rag rabbit that was pretty cute. mundhra was talking to her until Kahuna took a cue from the last BBP and informed her mundhra had the HIV.

I supposed she handled it better than the last chicks who heard that.








Did I mention fuking LOki showed up? We gave him bum directions and trying to get him anywhere that made sense was a painful exercise in fuk-me. Here he is at the Cactus Club sucking on a huge margarita with apparently like 5 shots in it.

The Cactus Club still sucks, if you're curious. I will try very hard not to go there ever again and probably end up there next time I'm in Boston (again).








mundhra moons the security camera at Kinko's.







Click this. It's film of mundhra and the LBP mooning Kinko's.








While we were consuming sub-sub-par Americanized Yuppified "Mexican" food at Cactus Club, Lutefisk showed up. Here we are outside as he's leaving. Why did he show up and then bolt? I dunno. The white man's got him down.






Film back at the hotel. LOki describes tricking our friend Matt into powersmoking a cigarette, and the extra-cool barf that follows. In the background, LBP and chex are babbling about some shit that I don't know what it is. Includes novelty puking sound effects.







Part II. "Matt can barf with, like, real aplomb."








Day... three? It's like 4 PM and marf just showed up and we went next door to "The Greatest Bar in Boston" or some such. This is Goatse's head and the back of the LBP's.








Everyone is entranced with mundhra's finger.








But not with Marf's tits.








EVERYONE'S TITS!






Film. Mundhra describes herding cattle on foot. "Run like a motherfuker!" I'm testing the camera to make sure you can't tell it's recording.






Film. Abstract clip of chex over a beer with a beastie-boys style music snippet in the background. I recommend setting this on loop and giving it about five minutes. Zen.








GAAAAGGGGGGH!








Proof that b0bo did in fact cause LOki to deliver us a special BBP5.1 bottle of Cuervo. Back at the hotel, preparing to go back out... somewhere.








NECKBEARDS!








THE CHEX BEARS SOMETHING TASTY AND SLY IN ITS DUMB COMMUNIST MOUTH! WHAT IS IT CHEX! OK? HAHA! JIMMY CRACK CORN, FAGGOT!








Goatse bears down to counter chex' Blistering Lung attack.








In my head, I hear its thoughts. They go: "duh duh duh DUH DUH DUH duh duh DUH DUH"








The first of the scorpion bowls at the "real" Hong Kong.








"Man... I liek moonpies."








Kahuna seeks to steal my precious fluids but I give him a look that says "this idea is ridiculous and there is little time for poppycock."








And halo his happy face with the fings of death.








YAY VERY HAPPY NUMBAH ONE JOE!








Kahuna has moved on to find what he can in Goatse's knobby cranium. Supposedly he tried getting it into marf's cleavage but in an unprecedented act of modesty she slapped his straw away.








Here's me settling the tab for the booze. That's your hard-earned money I'm spending. Well, like six of you. The rest of you deserve "pfffts" from Englishes.








Well, here we are, ladies and gentlemen. The dream we all dream of.

Roundup of BBP5.1 drinking fund donators: Roozerose, Fastlane, Beachgoat, Breezysummerday, Sexninja, and Steel.








To preserve your generously-donated fund money and ensure good times after, I specifically asked the bar ho for the worst tequila she had and the worst vodka she had. I watched her write these phrases down, not knowing that in seconds, I'd see this on mundhra.








And this here on these sad campers.









This is like both FUCK YOU and ROCK ON, together, at once.








Twice.

During this phase, Kahuna was going around the bar like a giant nectar-sucking butterfly-thing butting in to other peoples' scorpion bowls. For the most part, they acquiesced without problem. Two dykey chicks got like kind of this-isn't-funny angry about it, but fuck them.





He also hooked me up with a giant 4- or 5-straw scorpion bowl theft device and then started bartering with these two chicks. They'd let us suck their delicious nectar as long as we kept supplying them with the little plastic guys that come in the bowls. They had quite a bounty by the time the night was over.





As mundhra exhibited earlier, the LBP, in all her gracious wisdom, decided to pick us up some fishies at the bar. Luckily for us dudes, this meant cute bitches. Here's one now.









I'll give this holy roller some credit. He's got the right fuking attitude.








This is what he was handing out. Apparently the Second Coming feels a lot like Star Wars, only it has more horses.








I took this picture of mundhra and marf (I think) in the subway and the coin dude ran out yelling NO PIKSHA NO PIKSHA. It was so surreal and lightning-fast I didn't even realize he was talking to me for about 15 seconds. I guess they figure if you have good pictures of the first 20 feet of the subway, then your surface nukes can really do some damage.









Fishies.









And concomitant cleavage.








Testosterone spurred on by the addition of new females, some of the males take to ritualistic displays of aggression and dominance, perhaps in an attempt to "train" the new females which sexual positions the pack prefers.









S'all jus jokes though, right dude? Right? Yeah. *BEARHUG* *COUGHING* *PULL UP PANTS*








There's probably nothing I can type here that wouldn't get me in trouble eventually.








Ah, a change of subject. We saw these leftover cosplay asshats and had to get one last picture. God I love the stiff shame on their faces. "No, this is really cool. And I don't feel stupid at all. NO!"









We co-opted this poor bugger's pukepile. He was so drunk. I was cool enough to ask permission to use his puke before doing so, but not cool enough to not ignore him when he said no. He was drunk; what the hell was he going to do about it?









Fishie tattoos, provided here for your Internet fantasy enjoyment.








Here we are back at the hotel room enjoying Saturday night.







Aww, look. FAGGOTS!~







Haha. PIMP!








I believe I can fly.

I believe I can touch the sky.








Hahaha. Oh, the comedy.








MUNDHAR!








KAHUNA!








MY OWN SLEF!









MOGHO!





Trippy.







At the Hong Kong, Marf had found two guys she knew and brought them along. Turns out they are complete fags when it comes to feet. All I had to do was lick the LBP's toe and these guys were literally crawling all over each other in an attempt to get away. This was great fun, and I suspect a psychoanalysis would produce some interesting results.









So naturally we tortured them with this.








And tortured them.








And tortured them.








All this hot shrimping action made mundhra hungry so he enveloped a White Castle burger. See how delicate and precious it looks entering his giant caveman head?







DUH






So later on that night about 5AM, once everyone got the fuk out, we went to the other room and Kahuna fell asleep. Naturally, as people do, I took a full-arm wind-up and smacked him right in his head with a pillow.

Nothing.

I did it again.

Nothing.

Incredible. A plan formed.

I had brought a sharpie.

The rest, of course, is history.


















Here you can see b0bo's Cuervo bottle. It was real. I promise.

And no, before you ask -- the Cuervo bottle's kid did NOT get sick and was at the hospital and so the Cuervo bottle couldn't come. The Cuervo bottle was there, man.








Oh, and chex -- I got your lighter, farthat. ^__^




Animated gif time!



























THE END.