Batman has the Bat Cave.  Superman has the Fortress of Solitude.  Iron Man has The Cliffside Mansion.  So it is only fitting that the blogging superhero Avitable has the AvitaSuite.

Before meeting Poppy, I had not met another blogger.  She basically took my Meet A Blogger Cherry.  Here in the northwest corner of the 10th floor of The Sheraton was where I met my second real life blogger… and my third… and my fourth… and my fifth… and basically became a Meet A Blogger Slut.  Walking through the door left eerily ajar… I met the man himself… Avitable.  Shaking his hand I stepped into his lair expecting to see a Tijuana Donkey Show in progress while midget strippers performed lap dances on a dolphin shipped in from Sea World.  Surprisingly, none of that was there.  What I found through the bedroom door that was off the quaint but modern living room area amazed me even more.  Not only was everyone fully clothed, but they were in on the bed… ABOVE the covers.

There was a brief second where I wondered if I was indeed in the right place.  Then Hellohahanarf beelined to me and extended her hand saying, “Hi!  I’m Hellohahanarf.  Want some Tequila?  You don’t have a problem drinking after other people right?  It’s some primo shit.  Don’t want to get too fucked up right away?  One shot won’t kill ya.  Want some?” Then she took a breathe of air just as her tint was going from light aquaish blue to the deep dark blue we equate with asphyxiation. 

Right as color was returning to Hellohahanarf‘s face, there was a high pitched squeal from the blond whirlwind known as Miss Britt.  Fresh from burying her Hotel Manager kill, she knocked poor recovering Hellohahanarf out of the way and gave me a great big hug.  Now I have to be honest… there has been some debate over the softness of Miss Britt since Poppy has met her twice as much as I have.  The debate was, is she softer than Charmin?  If so, can you squeeze her or will Mr. Whipple pop out of the closet and say, “Don’t squeeze the Britt!”?  Well… allow me to assure you that while she is indeed soft… she is also firm where firmness would be expected.  She is also fucking strong, so there really is no need for Mr. Whipple.  In fact… if Charmin would have had Miss Britt as their protector… then maybe they wouldn’t have gotten whooped in the Ass Wiping Wars by Scott Tissue or Northern Quilt… of this I can assure you.

After Britt let go, I got to meet Karl.  Now, as a fan of Karl and his essence… although not necessarily his junk… I was more than happy to shake his hand irregardless of not knowing where it’s been… or for that matter where it would be going.  I also now have to admit, that having seen such photos of Karl… for whatever reason… I really thought he’d be taller.  Avitable was as tall as I thought he would be… Britt was as short as I thought she would be… I really didn’t have a height idea for Hellohahanarf… so it was just a little surprise considering… well… you know… the junk.  Now it is important to remember this size concept… because it will play a role later on in the weekend.

At this point, we basically all moved into the living room area since the make out session was over in the bedroom, and I had two shots of the tequila that Hellohahanarf was gracious enough to bestow upon me while we waited for THE ARRIVAL.  What?  You don’t know who was missing?  Well apparently there was some sort of SNAFU… so Hilly was still on her way from the airport.  So we just hung out, talked about random things, while we waited for her to arrive with some homemade signs welcoming her to TequilaCon.  As it turns out… she sneaked into the hotel under cover… so instead of everyone waiting for her as she got off the elevator… it became a mad dash down the hallway as she was walking our way.  Remember the Britt squeal?  Well intensify it in a relatively empty hallway and it was loud enough to wake the dead… which it basically did.

It was on this walk down the hallway to greet Hilly that a door opened from another room as I was passing it.  A voice hissed from the room, “Excuse me,” so I stopped and turned to look at a woman who must be the mother of an Egyptian mummy.  Wrapped in sheets and with one of those night masks across her wrinkled Bag O’Bones forehead she continued advising me that, “There is a flight crew in here trying to get some sleep because they have to be up at 2:00am.” The first thought that crossed me mind was, Holy shit a fucking mummy! The second thought that crossed my mind was, Holy shit airline stewardesses are fucking fugly! The final thought that crossed my mind was, What the fuck eva. I know… my mind is a pretty amazing thing… all two cells of it.

“Oh.  Of course… so sorry,” I mumbled while nodding before continuing down the hallway to flee from the mummy gaze.  It was there, in the middle of the tenth floor, that I witnessed The Snackiepoo in all her southern and valley accented glory… LIVE!  I got a great hug from her too, and then we moved back into the AvitaSuite to discuss dinner arrangements… which in my opinion was one of the bestest ideas ever because I was on the border of starvation and briefly considered gnawing on the AvitaCouch that was made of leather.  Hey… cow is cow.

If your wondering if I mentioned anything about Bag O’Bones and the airline crew… nope.  Hell… knowing this crowd… once we went down for dinner we probably wouldn’t be back up until after 2:00am anyway.  So why bother?  I have a bad habit of keeping things like that to myself too… as you’ll find out as well.

Pictures are reportedly worth a thousand words.  Well I think the photos from my Flickr set and the TequilaCon Flickr Group are worth a little more… but you can be the judge.