Here’s everything I hate about Comic-Con. Phoebe Price is about as alluring as a run-over squirrel. But she gets attention outside Comic-Con as a dime store Black Widow while Scarlett Johansson is whisked through the Convention Center back door to a tightly scheduled show pony event you can’t see. She’s in and out in eleven minutes like Obama. I won’t go so far as to say Comic-Con was ruined by the Hollywood invasion. Not when it used to reek of third-day sweat socks and aspartame. But now you can no longer get desperate Phoebe Price back to your hotel room just by pretending you’re a movie producer. So, yeah, 2005 was much better.
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