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In which John talks about the tour de nerdfighting 2012 and how much awesome can be packed into a single auditorium. The awesome song everyone's dancing to is "Shake-a-Booty," off of Hank's great album Ellen Hardcastle:


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A Bunny
( - -)
((') (')
Good morning, Hank, it's Tuesday.

I wake up every morning after a few hours of sleep with 500 Miles stuck in my head. (singing) When I wake up, you know I'm gonna have this freaking song in my head! I pack up, head out to the van that I still cannot believe exists, and then drive 500 miles or whatever to the next place.

The van is very comfortable, and we have neck pillows, but it's impossible to sleep in there because 1. it's not a bed, and 2. there is an Xbox, and so all we ever do is beat the holy living crap out of each other's pixels. We arrive early afternoon and find lots of books needing signatures and Hanklerfishes, which takes a couple hours, although fortunately I have a fair bit of experience in the field of signing my name, and Hank, I'd wager you've drawn more anglerfishes than anyone alive on the planet. And before you tell me the plural of anglerfish is anglerfish, WIKIPEDIA IT.

Then the people start to show up, and there are a lot of them. They wear my face on their torso, or Doctor Who shirts, and they bring book cakes and they have things I wrote tattooed on their bodies, sometimes in borderline appropriate places, all of which is amazing and beautiful and also of course completely terrifying. (whispering) ahhh...i'm nervous... Then we have a quick meeting with Hank Sock, (Hank Sock) Hello, this is Hank Sock.

Backstage before the show. A little nervous, but, uh, a lot of people out there. I can see 'em through the crack in the curtain.

And it's time to start the show. Hank, writing is something you do alone, it's a profession for introverts who want to tell you a story but don't want to make eye contact while telling it, and on some level, writing is the exact opposite of this: (sound of screaming audience) Then I read and talk about The Fault In Our Stars, and you sing some songs. I answer some questions, you wear a tutu, we answer questions together and whoever is talking when the timer goes off gets shocked with the Charlieissocoollike-patented shocker. (Hank) You're very far--(timer beeps)--awwww! (John) YEAAHHHHH! (crowd lols) Then you sing some more songs and people dance and it feels magical and otherworldly to be in a room full of people who feel unembarrassed about their enthusiasm and intellect! (Hank singing, crowd clapping to the beat) And then we sign for five hours, which I won't show you much of, because the only thing more boring than standing in line is watching other people stand in line.

Then we get to the hotel around 2 AM, and I sleep for a few hours and wake up with 500 Miles in my head, grateful and astonished to have the readers and the brother I've lucked into. Hank, I'll see you on Friday.