Dave Dorman Gets a CLUE — His Art on Milton Bradley’s New Alien vs. Predator Edition of CLUE Game

I posted this image on Facebook today, and got several back channel messages about “How much did Dave make on this deal?” The answer? Zilch. Nada. Zero dinero. It was a work-for-hire deal for 20th Century Fox, so they can repurpose this image however they so choose. In fact, Dave had to buy his own game sample for his file, since Milton Bradley didn’t send him one. It was initially $40, but thankfully Dave forgot about it, and the post-Christmas price dropped down to $13, so he just bought it on Amazon. Hopefully this has dispelled the notion out there that if you (or your artwork) is famous, you’re wealthy because of it.

Dave Gets a CLUE!

 

Who Can Settle This Argument – What IS the Capital of Northern Ireland?

Today was filled with those minor irritations we all recognize as first-world problems. It kicked off when my Bubble Yum order arrived from Amazon – not the sugar-free kind that I ordered, but $41 of sugary Bubble Yum. I guess my Halloween candy shopping is done early this year. Parents, don’t send me your dentist bills.

Then came the Gloria Estefan CD I ordered, purportedly her “Greatest Hits,” yet it didn’t contain the one song I wanted, “Live for Loving You.” Sigh.

Next came Pub Quiz, a night I have been looking forward to for a very long time, reuniting me with my trivia-loving friends, plus I made a couple of new friends. (BFF Marovich would shrug, “More for your Collection.”)

One of my friends is an older gent named Shea from Northern Ireland. With that gorgeous accent, he could read the phone book and I would be mesmerized. The trivia emcee was a young woman who predicted Shea would get this next question correct, knowing his ethnicity. She queried, “What is the capital of Northern Ireland?” Shea immediately submitted his answer, which was: Stormont. We trusted he would know, so none of us even considered debating him. We only knew of Belfast. And according to the trivia emcee, the correct answer was: Belfast. D’oh!!!!!

As you can imagine, with us 8 rowdies–okay, let me rephrase that–seven rowdies plus Dave Dorman, this created quite the uproar at our table. According to Shea, the parliament is in an area called Stormont, and that is technically the capital.

We asked the emcee to challenge the veto.

Soon, our escalating dissension caught the notice of this woman’s supervisor, the Grand Poobah of Trivia–a 40-something guy with too-long hair, a beer gut, a sloppy t-shirt, and flip-flops–who approached our table with his MacBook Air parked on some Wikipedia page, which he somehow felt trumped the page of proof we showed him on Dave’s iPhone. Grand Poobah thrust his page in Dave’s face, snapped his Macbook Air shut with an air of finality, and walked away in a huff. I couldn’t help but think of Cartman from South Park:

If the Trivia Grand Poobah were a South Park Character...

If the Trivia Grand Poobah were a South Park Character…

We didn’t win our point.

The fact that our score’s outcome was being held in the balance by this Beach Boys wannabe was about a 5 on the Pucker Scale. Especially when we had evidence:

Proof!

Proof!

The other unsettling moment of the evening was learning that the final episode of Third Rock from the Sun aired the same year Train’s song “Drops of Jupiter” came out, which was the same year Legally Blonde came out. Wrap your brain around that for a second. Guess what year it was? 2001! Hand to God! Yeah, that was unbelievable to me, too. Drops of Jupiter just doesn’t seem that old. We’ll  be hearing the Muzak version on some Las Vegas elevator any day now.

Despite losing our footing early in the game with the Northern Ireland question, we managed to come in first place and win the whole trivia game. That showed ’em!

However, I still have to know…the Truth Is Out There…I’ve already emailed my comic book writer/creator friend in Belfast. The journalist in me will be verifying this Stormont business with at least three sources by day’s end tomorrow.

I’ll let you know what I learn.

What in the Wide, Wide World of Sports is Going On?!? Dodgeball Has Gotten Wimpy

I avoid living vicariously through my son, but not when it comes to Dodgeball. I signed him up through the park district, and okay, I’ll admit it–it might’ve been because I heard adults could play, too–so last night was our introductory session. Jack was reluctant to play. That is, until he quickly realized that together, he and I make a viable force–serious contenders. I’m no athlete, but there are four exceptions: Dodgeball, Four-Square, Racquetball and Tennis. If it has a ball, I’m IN, and I play with PASSION. So does Marovich, which is one of her many great BFF qualities.

One of my favorite movie scenes was this one (link below) with Justin Long and Vince Vaughn in the movie Dodgeball–a catchphrase I like to repurpose a lot: “If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NMWdnkSMPGM

My favorite scene from DODGEBALL: "If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball."

My favorite scene from DODGEBALL: “If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.”

My “Sister Wife” friend Maura snapped some photos of me last night. I called Marovich this a.m. admitting that images existed, but that I wasn’t about to send them to her. “Tell you what,” she coaxed ever-so-smoothly, “Just send them over… I’ll decide whether or not they’re blackmail material.” That Marovich. Always thinking.

Marovich and I loved Dodgeball as kids. We were reminiscing about playing over the phone, and she reminded me how she “used to love it when someone wasn’t looking and (I) could nail them right in the head!” I had the unpleasant task of informing her that head shots are no longer allowed. “What the shit is THAT?!?” she sneered, in sheer disgust. I agree. We’re raising a nation of wimps clad in bubble wrap, hovered over by helicopter parents.

I don’t know if it’s just our park district, but the red, rubbery balls I remember fondly from childhood are no longer used in today’s version of Dodgeball. Now they use these lightweight, spongy wimp balls that don’t deliver the leverage I like for hitting hard.

So Marovich and I are now in hot pursuit of an Adult Dodgeball League. This may be our last middle-aged gasp at going for the gold. Dare I hope (Dare, dare…) that there’s a Dodgeball Olympics?!? 

Note to Self: Reschedule Parent-Teacher Conferences When I’m Not There to Defend Myself

Me, after the Parent-Teacher Conference

Me, after yesterday’s Parent-Teacher Conference

It’s been a rough week. I learned my non-smoking friend Meryl with two daughters 5 and under has Stage 4 lung cancer. And in lesser news, a nasty virus and high fever kept me down for the count. In my vulnerable state, I should have rescheduled that Parent-Teacher conference, but my fever-induced brain led me to believe it a good idea to let the appointment stand without me present. Which is how I got thrown under the bus. By my very own fertilized ovum.  And by Dave.

All is well in Jack Land – his grades are good, he’s smart, he’s creative, but he tends to not double-check his homework in his rush to go socialize (a trait from my side of the gene pool, admittedly). He was present with Dave during the teacher’s discussion of Jack’s depeche mode for managing his school work. And that was the moment when 9-year-old Master Jack made the damning statement: “I need to not have Mama in the room with me when I do my homework. She’s too much of a distraction.” And Dave agreed!

Wow. That was an eye opener. Without solicitation, Jack elaborated further: “Mama is too silly…she makes me laugh too much.”

I guess there are worse things that could be said about me, but lest you think I’m this household’s Disney parent, it was I who banned Jack from all electronics this past week until he proved he could recite his multiplication table. The whole enchilada, not just one line of it. And it was Dave who lifted the ban just long enough to play Diablo as Jack’s reward for reciting just one line of it.

If that teacher ever wants to go party, I’m guessing I’ll be the one who gets that phone call.

But back to my friend Meryl. If you are interested in helping Meryl, here is a link to our online fundraiser. Believe me–every dollar helps. Thank you for anything you can do. I hate cancer.

http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/meryldine-s-miracle/249989

The Hidden TRUTH About Comic Book Convention Earnings: For Creators, Have Comic Book Conventions JUMPED THE SHARK?

I’m guessing you’re here because you want to hear all about how Denise Dorman hates cosplayers, n’est-ce pas? Unfortunately for all of the haters still out there perpetuating this myth, that data point remains totally untrue. So…if you’re going to be a hater, read elsewhere. In the words of the great Obi-Wan Kenobi, waving his hand, “There’s nothing to see here.”

So how did this insane myth come to light? On a misleading click-bait headline on Bleeding Cool News in September of 2014. That’s what kicked it all off. And today, two years and 8 months after I wrote that initial article, I’m still getting 200 hits a day on this blog, and having to defend myself to total strangers. One of my best friends, Heather, shared with me that the weekend of C2E2, some of her brother’s cosplay friends verbally accosted her recently at his 40th birthday party, incensed that she was close friends with me, as was indicated on Facebook. They actually sneered at Heather, “I see on Facebook that you’re not just friends, but close friends with Denise Dorman…” Sadly, these are the kind of people who reproduce and vote every four years, and yet they have no intellectual curiosity beyond hearing a rumor or reading a headline.

Hmmm...would a cosplay hater be in the foreground of the 501st? Stop. Think. Listen.

Hmmm…would a cosplay hater be in the foreground of this 501st photo AND be an honorary member of the 501st? Would his wife? Stop for a moment. Think. Listen. Use some logic.

Here are some TRUTHS you need to know:

#1. Neither Dave Dorman nor I hate cosplayers. Never have, never will. We are honorary members of the 501st, the largest cosplay organization in the world. Some of our closest friends are cosplayers. I cosplay. Cosplayers rest their weary feet in our booth at SDCC (or any other show where we’re exhibiting), they elicit my help in adjusting or fixing their costumes, hair, or makeup, and they pose for Dave. My niece Madyson is a dedicated cosplayer, model and actress in Albuquerque. Are the lie perpetuators out there suggesting I would hate or diss my own flesh and blood, or close friends?

My beautiful niece Madyson, cosplayer, actress, model.

My beautiful niece Madyson: Cosplayer, Actress, Model.

#2. Dave Dorman couldn’t do his amazing art work without the help of cosplayers. They pose for him. ALL. THE. TIME.

#3. We admire cosplayers and we understand firsthand the hard work and craftsmanship that goes into their work.

And here is the key interview I did on Yahoo! News with Mat Elfring to clarify my stance on cosplay:

http://bit.ly/DeniseDormanOnCosplay

And if that isn’t enough, as a business decision, Dave and I made the decision to actually invest in the promising New Orleans author MiMi Rawks, whose new geek erotic romance novel, “Cosplay Virgin” from the three-book “Cosplay Confidential Series” should be hitting the stands in the next couple of months. Dave is doing the cover art for her book series, which takes place in the cosplay community. The first cover illustration is breathtaking, and author MiMi Rawks serves up some HAWT geek erotica; her story is as compelling as it is suspenseful and entertaining.

Now…are we done YET with kicking the dead dog?

It’s a Good Mythical Morning Here at the Okay Corral

Since Dave MMO games on Star Wars: The Old Republic with the “Purge” Guild from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. nightly…

Dave's Nightly Gaming Addiction - Star Wars: The Old Republic, Purge Guild

Dave’s Nightly Gaming Addiction – Star Wars: The Old Republic, Purge Guild

…I’m the “morning person” who gets up with Jack. This is for the best. Jack and I start firing on all synapses the moment our eyes open–upbeat, excited, ready to carpe diem. Conversely, Dave is very slow to wake up and doesn’t appreciate our puppy-like energy first thing in the morning — our howls of laughter, our dance-offs, our shared penchant for weird breakfast menus…Jack and I would take last night’s sushi over scrambled eggs any day of the week.

Our Breakfast Entertainment: Good Mythical Morning

Our Breakfast Entertainment:                    Good Mythical Morning (like yours truly, Jack gets skeeved by the egg yolks)

One of the many blessings from Jack is his rich sense of humor. Even Dave begrudgingly admits this comes from my side. Especially the arrested development stuff that cracks up most 12-year-olds. Take this morning, for example. Jack introduced me to a show that’s been on for 5 seasons but is new to me “Good Mythical Morning” starring Rhett and Link. It’s age-appropriate, clean humor — clearly channeling some Weird Al Yankovic. Their OCD tribute parody song was brilliant — reminding me of a few special people in my life (and you know who you are!):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tnzz-eFmKaw

Just curious – do any of you reading this get skeeved out by egg yolks like Jack and me?