Ahh Anime Central. Chicago’s ultimate otaku convention for partying and debauchery. It’s a great convention to find hard drugs like coke and acid. There’s alcoholic beverages flowing about. Take a few shots for liquor courage to dick down that Cecilia cosplayer! Hey, Gotta celebrate Fire Emblem Gaiden’s 3DS remake somehow. There are also Persona orgies hosted by a kinky Shadow Rise cosplayer hunting down guys to run a train on her. ACEN has the great shit for ya if you want it.
Oh yea, they have cosplaying nerds who ain’t fuckin each other in orgies and industry panels. That shit is boring. As an (somewhat) honest person, I’m gonna tell you what really goes down outside the panels and normal convention shit. Autograph and photo sessions? Pfft. I rather waste time on my grind, writing passion, and networks. Why? So the anime and video game industry can notice my hardwork. I want to become lifelong friends with the niggas you stand in line for hours just to talk to them for twenty seconds out of your life.
Look, fuck all that lame boring shit that the average con attendees will tell. I’m here to too you the the real grimy shit. You can trust me on keeping it real. I’m a real nigga.
My friend “Adrian” (name changed because I’m the star and he’s not) and myself arrived in Chicago at 2:00pm Thursday afternoon after a long 10 hour trip from St. Louis via Amtrak. You see, Amtrak was running a special deal. Riders will have to suffer through delays and constant route changes with no explanations!
Something about a fatal train derailment was thrown in, but we didn’t get that option. Oh well. Public transit is better than Amtrak. You don’t get that fine Chicago-style piss smell on the Amtrak unlike Chicago’s CTA public transit. CTA ride was nice, sans some homeless diabetic begging money for heroine. Or was it insulin? I dunno I don’t do (hard) drugs, and I’m not hip on the new and upcoming drug trends.
Following that 45 minute ride, we arrived at Rosemont, Il! Home of Anime Central. Yes! Finally I can make my grand announcement to my haters that the guy they secretly want to fuck but can’t has arrive! The guy who they want to fight, but are too pussy to step up because they can’t carry their keyboards around.
It’s me: Benjamin Snow. I am the greatest otaku to have ever lived (one day I’ll snatch the Otaking title away from Toshio Okada) . I am the promised child of otaku culture niche, whom the prophets once warned the basement dwelling beta white cuck virgins weeaboos. I am the main character of my haters’ lives. I am the anti-hero protagonist of this tale.
I’m honored that you, the reader and haters, are focused on me. All eyes on me.
Adrian (I almost forgot about him) and I checked into our hotel, the Hilton, which is right across from the Hyatt, the main Anime Central hotel. Hilton’s a nice hotel chain for lodging space. Not a nice company to work for however unless you’re a masochist who hates their life. Oh wait I forgot you ain’t supposed to talk shit about shitty companies you used to work for. Actually, I take that back. Hilton’s 3rd party contractors can be hit or miss. Not the company itself.
Fuck you, Lodging Hospitality Management.
Grudges and come up revenge aside, my boy and I got a top floor room. We’re top tier men so we gotta be at the top. After showering (not with Adrian, that’s pretty gay), I decided to head to the Hyatt to scan the place for anyone I know. Encounter another homeboy, “Joe”. Joe’s a cool guy who I really wish I could hang out with more often despite we live in the same city. Big black guy fighting game fan such as myself. After some small chat we decided to roll out to Rosemont Liquor, a super nice liquor store in Rosemont that you already know is gonna love the money they racked in from us alcoholic weeaboos.
Went in and brought a bottle of pineapple New Amsterdam, a pack of 312 Goose Island Wheat, and big boy beer: My first 12% beer in my life. Trust me, drinking 12% beer is like smoking some fire ass kush after smoking that weak ass reggie for years on end. Forgot the name of the beer but they’re not sponsoring me nor this blog, so it doesn’t matter.
Following, Joe and I drove back to my hotel. During the drive, we spoke about fighting games, with Casual Player Neglect Fighter V being the main topic (Street Fighter 5) and how garbage it lowkey is. I brought up how for some reason despite not playing in months, I was able to beat my friendes who play nearly everyday with Karin.
Oh Capcom. I hope one day, you guys figured out why nobody enjoy this game.
Joe dropped me off at my hotel, as he had prior plans with a friend. Cool with me, given I had plans to kick it with another friend, “Vance”, and his Touhou cosplay crew at Hofbrauhaus. I “met” Vance back at my first ACEN in 2013 as he was cosplaying as Momiji (from Mountain of Faith or whatever idunno I don’t play Touhou like that). His outfit and the craftsmanship of it was amazing, and (at the time) Momiji cosplays were rather uncommon, so your boy had to take his pic. I would not realized I met him at ACEN until later.
I officially met and hung out with Vance at Anime Crossroads 2013, at his Touhou Panel he was hosting. We spoke about the series, our love for alcohol, and the convention scene in general. We naturally clicked and overtime, he became a good con friend. On some real shit, I wouldn’t mind being friends outside of cons with the dude…if I didn’t live in St. Louis but there’s always non-con traveling plans. Enough of my longing for networking with folks, to Hofbrauhaus
Hofbrauhaus’s food is amazing. I could tell you the fantastic variety selection of dishes and drinks they have , but my black ass is too lazy to look up their menu online. Settle with a picture of one of their dishes I that cannot for the life of me pronounce. I’m an American. Not German. We speak American in America.
After showcasing my quietness to people I don’t know outside my established friends in the group (I’m lowkey shy around strangers) and appropriating German culture (because I’m slightly racist), I walked back to my hotel and holy fuck! It’s fucking cold and windy as fuck outside! You see, my dumbass thought it would had been a great idea to wear a light T-shirt and shorts earlier in the day, despite knowing the fact the tempts were dropping..
I’m pretty sure some folks saw me walking around shivering in shorts and a t-shirt and were like “This stupid ass nergo.” Okay, I hope not. Rosemont is mostly white people, and they don’t have the right to say Nergo. Kinda like how I don’t have the right to make racist jokes about the Germans in a German restaurant (inside my head of course). Das boot! Big titty thick Germans girls wearing those Dirndi dancing with giant beer mugs! I swear I’m not racist towards Germans!
…fuck I’m racist.
I arrived back to my hotel to change into some warm clothes. Perhaps the harsh winds were karma for my inner-racism, but oh well. To help prove to myself I’m not a complete racist, I took up an offer to kick it with my white friend, “Beared Chibi-Usa” at ACEN’s infamous smoker’s circle. Great source for debauchery. And drugs!
Bearded Chibi-Usa, as his name implies, is a guy who has a beard and cosplays as Chibi-Usa from the Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon series. Maybe he’s actually cosplaying an alternate timeline of Chibi-Usa, who is actually a female-to-male transgender, and they have a beard. Who fuckin’ knows. All I know is that this man is cool ass businessman and has his own online advertisement company. Make that new money young nigga.
During our chill and smoking (tobacco) session, we overheard a rather interesting conversation between two guys talking about a stillborn dead ass baby. So, this loud ass guy was broadcasting how he may or not had been cucked by his (ex?) girlfriend at the time, and how his girlfriend felt so bad about it that she let the guy have pity sex with him. Like, raw dog busting all types of nuts inside the girl’s pussy pity sex with a creampie ending.
As we all know, sex makes babies. Sometimes, stillborn babies. Hey, that’s life. Some win. Some lose.
Despite people giving this guy confused looks and laughing at him, he kept going with the damn story. Bearded Chibi-Usa and I exchanged “what the fuck” looks and walked away, trying to contain our laughs to no anvil. We needed to drink after that, man. That was too much for us and this was day zero. A fuckin’ Thursday night.
People; keep your personal business about being a cuck with a stillborn baby to yourselves. I will laugh at you.
To keep your mind off how much of a fucked up piece of shit person I am for laughing at that poor guy, let’s go back to a certain point of this story. Remember how I told ya Beared Chibi-Usa is a businessman? Well, some non-nerd businessman got on my boy case for being him; a nerd. I don’t remember much of the details due to the alcohol and drugs, but I recall him shutting their ass down, talking about how he’s a businessman himself and that his company has clients from the companies the non-nerds work for.
Needless to say, he shut their ass down. Ya non-nerds should really let go of the stereotype of the broke basement nerd still in their parents’ basement. But hey, they’re old fucks. They have about what? 20-30 years of life left, and us young folks are gonna take their jobs overtime. No big deal.
We settle back to my room and we spoke upon various topics, such as grime rap, weight lost, and business. Grime rap. My god, no wonder it has that name. Angry. Aggressive. Blunt. Take what you know about (real) hip-hop culture, give it steroids and make it British. No, not fucking high class sip tea and eat crumpets British. I’m talking the low income, brutal lifestyle of the the British. Rap battles taking place inside decaying buildings and under bridges. Harden street rappers going berserk with their personal attacks against rivals and enemies. You got your feelings hurt? Fuck you, you’re a grime rapper. Suck it up.
No wonder my boy got me hip to this genre. I can see myself bumping this type of music and applying the story behind the music in my writings. I get inspired easily ya know. Speaking of, his talk about business, and how his networks pretty much inspired me to work on my grind, hustle, and brand. Here’s a young dude around my age with his own company, out here making moves and great money. I’m sitting here listening about his work. I’m like “man, if he can do it, so can I.” Granted, it takes hard work, dealing with self-doubts, and overcoming both haters and personal failures to reach what you want in life. This shit doesn’t come overnight.
I’m dragging this story with nonsense filler and I pretty sure you guys want me to talk more about partying and less about my sappy self being inspired. A couple of more folks came over to pregame (who I won’t mention because my uncreative ass can’t come up with fake names). I think we played the godawful broken Sailor Moon Super S fighting game on my laptop, as well as a real fighting game like Super Street Fighter 2. I got bodied in both because alcohol. One of my friends noticed my Sailor Saturn sticker on my laptop and we had a nice chat about why we like and relate to her (socially awkward but love having few but very close friends). Come to think about it, I honestly forgot what happened from between me light partying and when I woke up the next morning.
Fuck it, onto Day 1. A day in which gave me more inspiration from dudes doing better than myself, an convention and hotel staff hating on my alcohol collection, and me having to control my temper to prevent killing somebody who I thought was a friend.