Apparently, the Internet trolls have their knives out for John Scalzi tonight. (But is there ever a night during which the Internet trolls don’t have their knives out for John Scalzi?)

After he posted a dashing photo of himself wearing Rachel Caine‘s red shoes at the Romantic Times Booklovers Convention, “The sexist dipshits are passing around the picture of me in high heels, as if I did something shameful. Because they are sexist dipshits.”

So to give those sexist dipshits a distraction that might take some heat off John, and to show I’ve always been willing to do pretty much anything and not care what anyone else might think, may I present—

Me as a high school junior. Wearing a tutu. And a black-and-white sequined bra. A black-and-white sequined bra that needed to be heavily stuffed with tissues.

You’re welcome.

As you know, I was at the Dearborn, Michigan convention Immortal Confusion last weekend. So was John Scalzi. And even though he hates me so much that he broke a tooth while there just to avoid jamming with me on the ukulele, I still think he’s a nice guy.

Why do I think that?

Well, one reason is the essay you’re about to hear him read.

Last Friday, John was the first item of programming at the con. He read some unpublished fiction which you won’t get to witness yet, because I’m not a spoilery guy. But he also read one of his most popular essays, “Who Gets To Be a Geek? Anyone Who Wants to Be,” which spoils nothing for no one. And also proves his menschiness.

Enjoy!

When our fearless leader John Scalzi threatened to bring his ukulele to SFWA’s Nebula Awards weekend last month, I knew I had to do the same. (Bring, not threaten, that is.) And unindicted co-conspirator David Bartell, another science fictional uker, brought his along as well.

Saturday afternoon, in the lull between the end of programming and the beginning of the banquet, we found a quiet spot to jam. And luckily, Liza Groen Trombi happened by to snap this picture, which should appear in the next issue of Locus.

For those who don’t know what we all look like, those smiling faces belong to (from left to right), me, John, and Dave. (And don’t worry—I put on a tie, too, before the festivities began.)

I’m hoping that by the next incarnation of the science fiction merry-go-round, a few more of you secret SF ukulele players (you know who you are) will decide to join us.

A show of hands—which of you will be bringing your ukes along to the Chicago Worldcon?