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The gloves (and the rest of the clothes) come off as A-Kon meanders into day two!

If Friday was about learning and meeting the other congoers, be they the guests or fellow attendees, then Saturday was all about letting your guard down and the fur (or, in some cases, furry) fly. Inhibitions vanished like strawberry Ramune (why does my favorite flavor have to be everyone’s favorite, too? Get your own flavors, people!) after the prices begin to drop, and whether it be in a panel or the all-too famous hentai viewing room, debauchery was in abundance.

Though the day began a little more quietly than I had expected, it didn’t stay quiet for long. The costume big guns (literally, in the case of one very enterprising Seras Victoria) came out. Though the morning was filled with panels, where Yaya Han taught us how to pose pretty for a camera (and she would know) and M. Alice LeGrow guiding would-be manga creators through the publishing process, Yaya’s stunning figure was on display all through the panel, Marty lifted her skirt in front of her audience not once, not twice, but three times (she had on the appropriate underthings, before you fan boys go nuts). Then came the cat girls. And the naughty lolitas. And the girls who just wanted attention - and got it.

In summation, clothing was in short supply.

More than that, the amount of 18+ panels was pretty decent today; Iron Artist, adult edition, was standing room only. The line for the hentai screening took up an entire floor of the hotel. There was an edgy reading from feisty (and frisky) Lee Martindale, Jan Scott-Frasier had a few grown up tales of her life, the “Misfits of Comedy” did a little grown up improv, and then the night capped off with the hentai. I gotta say, my thighs were tired after the hentai screening (from climbing stairs all day, you perverts).

But before I get into the truly scandalous, there was other good stuff -  that mystery panel I told you about yesterday, “From Impressionism to Anime: Japan as Fantasy and Fan Cult in the Mind of the West” was a good panel, led by author Susan Napier. Though she imparted much wisdom on us, this is the tidbit I’d like to leave you with: Van Gogh was the first cosplayer. Boo-yah.

The main even was, of course, the masquerade. The costume and masks ranged from elegantly elaborate to cheaters and skimpers, and some of those people did not know how to dance (incidentally, comedy is watching Misa Misa forget attempting to dance in those boots and fall squarely on her ass). But some did; they did not take advantage of the dark and nearly make out like high school kids, they did not stand in place and merely sway. No, a good portion got out on the dance floor and danced, while others created a huge Edwardian country style dance (think Pride and Prejudice). Most of the time people didn’t trip and though the effort, while not entirely successful, was a crapton of fun (nothing says retarded fan girl like dancing ala Darcy and Elizabeth to Rasputina. Seriously. I could not have seen that one coming. “Transylvanian Concubine” and a ball gown? Yes, please). The masquerade was fun, well worth the effort put forth by the organizers.

Of course, before the ball was Iron Artist. Now, Iron Artist is a lot like Iron Chef (hence the name): two groups of artists from artist alley (boys vs. girls) were given three things and told to make the most perverse drawing they could in four minutes (each artist getting one minute). Sound simple? The first round of topics were furries, tentacles, and Barney the dinosaur. Sadly, I cannot post the pics here if I wanted, but they were twisted and delightful (Count Chocula, Admiral Ackbar and chibi led to something no Naruto fan, save you slashy fanfic freaks, would ever want to see).

And the Hentai. The pre-show was actually more entertaining than the show itself, once you got past the disturbingly large line (anime porn traffic control. Ponder that). It was like Marti Gras inside the room - girls stripped down for beads, crude suggestions were shouted from all angles, the truffle shuffle was done repeatedly, and then when the lights finally did go down, we watched some of the most shocking porn I have ever seen in my life - and shocking me is no easy task. But there’s nothing quite like the experience of watching porn with seven hundred strangers - if nothing else, it’ll definitely make people stay inside the confines of their seats. God knows what all was next to you in the dark.

I saw more breasts than I could count, live (topless) girl on girl action, fecalphelia (I said it was disturbing), and was even offered a pencil from a man’s pants pocket. Don’t worry, folks. It was just a pencil. A pink pencil.

And I took it.

Though tomorrow can’t possibly be as amazingly diverse and dirty as Saturday was, it is the day of the brunch (fun!) and this year, a few more closing panels and activities than last year. Sunday is always a sad day, because no one wants to go back to normalcy (not that half of us in attendance actually ever found normalcy to begin with), part with newfound friends or, inevitably, run out of money and live off ramen to make up for the copious spending. There’s one day left, and after all the ridiculous fun of this year so far, I’m betting Sunday has a surprise or two still in store for us yet. Don’t forget to follow me on Twitter for instant updates and Kon gossip.

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