Month: August 2002

Please Forgive Me

• by GeekMan • In Bread •   3

I apologize in advance for any emotional damage the following announcement will cause my readership.

After months of derisive insults and weeks of threats to my physical health and emotional well being, I finally caved in and granted his request. I’m ashamed to reveal this unnatural travesty to the world at large, but if I don’t he’s going to hound me until I die of a bleeding, cancerous ulcer. In light of that fact I have no choice, so here goes nothing. Ladies and gentlemen of the Internet, lock your doors and hide the butter because evil incarnate is coming to dinner.

Bread is on the web. May god have mercy on us all.

Come On Down To Crazy Geeky’s

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News •   3

Are you pining away for attention of the mocking kind from the other kids in your class?

Do you feel left out when the lowly nerds get beat up by the neighborhood bully at school and you don’t?

Late at night, when no one’s around, do you lie awake wishing that there was some way for you to be even more of an outcast from society than you are now?

My eyes! My eyes! They're on fire! Oh the agony!Well, fear not my fellow Geeks because The Mighty Shop is here to help! You say you wish you had a burn-your-retina-to-a-crisp, bright, neon yellow bag to help you get the gasps of sympathy/disgust/fear you’ve been pining away for? Not only do we have one available, but it even sports the hideous visage of the king-lord of Geeks himself, GeekMan! We guarantee that should this bag fail to garner the ridicule, derision and insults that you think you deserve for carrying it around, just write us and we’ll insult you ourselves!

But wait, there’s more!

In order to entice you to purchase our cheap and crappy products, we’ve lowered prices on some select items. Need a wife-beater t-shirt? We’ve got them on sale! Wish you had a hat just like Gilligan? Now you can wear one that’s even uglier! Is your physique less than ideal for sports, yet you still want to be part of the team? Join Team Geek by wearing one of our stylish, will-the-football-team-please-kick-my-butt jersey’s! Even our hideous I-don’t-know-how-to-play-poker visors are on sale!

With prices like these, we’re practically giving it all away!

We’ve got backpacks, briefcases, cups, mugs, coasters, mouse pads and even Frisbees! And if you act now, shipping is only $5! And if you’re rich (please lord, let them be rich) and you purchase over $50 worth of our crap, then shipping is free! That’s right, free shipping! So bring your penny-pinching, cheap and miserly butt down to our store now and buy ten of everything!

The Mighty Shop. We’re INSAAAAAANE!!!

It’s A Raid!

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   3

It was the size of my big toe.

I’ve lived in my apartment for the last 5 years without a single sighting. Not once has my neat and clean home been soiled by their ugly, dirty, creepy-crawly presence. I am fanatical in my cleanliness and spare no expense in making my whole apartment proof against their intrusion.

And yet, there it was.

It was sitting there, in plain view, waiting patiently to be noticed. It was not trying to hide, it did not run away when I approached and it certainly didn’t appear to be frightened. In fact, if I were to believe my eyes, it was leaning up against the wall, smoking a cigarette and reading a teeny-tiny magazine.

PlayBug Magazine, to be exact.

Normally, when one walks into a dark room and turns on a very bright light, all the little nasties will run for the dark corners of the room like a wild herd of llamas for a watering hole in the desert. But not this bugger. It simply lowered the magazine, took a puff of its cigarette and gave me the finger.

I was shocked. Shocked!

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be scared?”

“Screw you.”

“What?”

“I said, ‘screw you’, Jackoff. You got a hearing problem?”

“I don’t believe this. A talking bug.”

“Believe it, human. Now shut your trap and listen up, cause I only want to say this once. I’m hungry. I’ve been running around this freaking apartment for the last 4 hours and haven’t found a damn thing to eat. I figure there’s got to be food around here somewhere and it’s up to you to give it to me. Or else.”

The last was said in the classic gangster movie, veiled threat voice.

“Or else, what?”

“Or else me and the boys are going to be paying you a visit. At night. Every night. In your bed.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Try not to think of it as a threat. Think of it more as, ‘gentile persuasion’.”

“Persuasion? Hey, you sound like the Bugmob!”

“Bugmob? Bugmob? I never said that, did I? Did you hear me mention a fictional organization of bugs with the power and ability to get what they want through the use of force, fear and coercion? Did you?”

“Uhhh…”

“Hey! Look at me. I axed you a question. Did you hear me say ‘Bugmob’?”

“Uhhhh, no. No, sir. You didn’t say Bugmob.”

“Damn right, I didn’t. And you better not mention it in my presence again, got me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, where’s that food you said you’d get for me?”

Thinking quickly, I looked around the room as carefully and inconspicuously as I could and realized that there weren’t any other bugs in evidence. This bastard was going it alone. I never had bugs before and I was moving into a new apartment in less than a month. No one would ever know. And by the time the other bugs figured out what happened, I’d be safe in a new apartment on the other side of the city. They’d never find me.

“Uh, you want food?”

“That’s right, Jackoff. Food, and make it quick.”

“You’re in luck, sir. It just so happens that I’ve got some food right here.”

“Where?”

“Right here, under my foot.”

“Really? Well? What are you waiting for, Jackoff? Let me have it!”

“Sure.”

Later on, as I wiped up his little buggy-guts from the floor, I replayed the sound he made as I stomped him to death over and over in my mind. For some reason, I truly love the sound those nasty bugs make as you squish their body between two hard and unyielding surfaces. It’s like… well, have you ever popped Bubble-wrap? If you have, then that’s exactly what it sounded like when I crushed that little bastard with my size 10’s and ground his horrid little body into the floorboards.

Damn, I just love Bubble-wrap. Don’t you?

PhotoBloggery 03
Fantastick Spastic Split

• by GeekMan • In PhotoBloggery •   2

Bowling for LosersTime for another round of personal torture therapy.

Before I begin, I would like to offer up a warning to those of you who have not plucked out your own eyeballs and smashed them underfoot upon catching a glimpse of the picture I have chosen for today. What you see to the left of these words may shred any and all faith you have in the intellectual superiority of humans over the less evolved creatures of the world. By allowing you to view this picture, I may very well become known as the man who destroyed civilization as it is and set humanity’s evolutionary clock back by a thousand years or more.

Remember, you were warned.

For those of you who have made it this far, allow me to explain that what you are seeing in this picture is not my prepubescent attempt to become the worlds first disco-ballerina. Nor is it my frantic attempt to stop myself from wetting my pants in public. What is happening here is much, much worse than anything you might be able to imagine on your own.

You see, I am attempting to bowl.

Notice my teeny, tiny, extra tight, powder blue shorts. See how they hug my nonexistent buttocks in an attempt to cut off circulation to my legs and thus force me to fall, convulsing, onto the local Bowl-O-Rama’s floor? Look carefully and become amazed at my complete lack of male genitalia.

And we won’t even get started on the haircut.

Am I not the epitome of style, with my Adidas wrist band and tri-band socks pulled up nearly to my knees? Do you not swoon in adoration at my stoic and manly pose of bowling professionalism? My jutting lower jaw, flopping, useless arms and blindingly white, sticklike legs ensured that only the most attractive of the “Super-Fly Bowl-O-Rama Hotties” hanging around would dare to approach me. And, if I remember correctly, not one of them was brave enough to even make the attempt.

I was that sexy. Believe it.

One last thing to note, this picture was actually taken at my birthday party as I attempted to make the most difficult spare in the sport of bowling. That’s right, the dreaded seven-ten split. This would help explain my use of the never before caught on film, patented “I’m a Little Teapot”, ball-control-through-body-English, bowling ball toss. It also helps explain why all my friends called me “The Gay Bowler” for a few months after the party.

Bastards.

PhotoBloggery. Take a picture. Write a story. Post the results.

And You Are…?

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   4

It’s all my mothers fault.

I have an unfortunate affliction that causes me to fail miserably every time I attempt to be ‘cool’ and interesting at a social gathering. This horrible disease has no cure and I’m afraid that one day I’ll be as bad as my mentally addled mother.

You see, I can’t remember names.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, but I don’t mean just the names of strangers I meet at a party and will never see again. No. I’m talking about the names of my extended family who I see at the GeekMan Family Gatherings once or twice a year. A typical conversation at one of those might sound like the following;

“GeekMan! It’s been too long. Why don’t you ever call me anymore?”

“Uh, hello?”

“GeekMan. Don’t you recognize me?”

“I’m sorry. The face is familiar but…?”

“I’m your mother, dammit! Your poor, ever-suffering mother!”

This is usually followed by a stinging slap and my banishment to the children’s table for the rest of dinner.

I can honestly blame this mental deficiency on my mother, who never, ever remembers my name. Whenever she’s introducing me to her friends it always goes something like this;

“Friend, this is my son, Fishman. Fishman, this is Friend.”

“Uh, mom. I’m not Fishman, I’m the older one.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Friend. This is Husband. No wait, Dog1. Dog2. GeekMan! Yes, that’s it. Friend, this is GeekMan.”

“I’m your son, dammit! Your poor, ever-suffering son!”

This is usually followed by a stinging slap and my banishment to the children’s table for the rest of dinner.

So, should you ever have the misfortune of meeting me and wonder why I don’t ever refer to you by your name, now you know. And, unless we meet in a very small group, it’s highly unlikely that I’ll remember who you are the next time we meet.

What? Oh, because I’m a fricken moron, that’s why.

Coming Soon…

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News •   4

The following is a message for the readers of themightygeek.com from SoD Don “Hogarth” Rumsfeld.

My fellow visitors. I have been asked by the GeekMan to hold this press conference to inform you of a grave matter of international security. It has come to our attention that an individual, known only under the alias of ‘Bread’, has managed to escape from his place of incarceration at Casa de Geek and is now at large amongst the general populace of the Internet. Due to his mean and petty disposition, he should be considered armed with a razor-sharp tongue and very dangerous.

Do not be alarmed.

It is our understanding that Bread is not the smartest of individuals and so will almost certainly attempt to create his own website. We don’t know how, we don’t know when and we don’t know where, but we must be ever vigilant in our… uh, vigilance. Damn, I’ve got to remember to fire my speechwriter.

Where was I? Oh yes, ‘ever vigilant’, right.

We must remain ever vigilant because if Bread does create his ‘bread-site’ then life, liberty, freedom and the very stability of the world as we know it could come crashing down around us. He is a vile and evil little monster and must be stopped by whatever means necessary. Even if that means covering him in honey and feeding him to specially trained attack pigeons.

Consider this a Code Lavender warning.

Due to his immense ego and annoying habit of inserting himself into any gathering or conversation, it is our expert opinion that he cannot last more than one week without being able to insult someone. Although it might take Bread longer to actually create his site, our experts seem to believe that he will make his move soon, for fear of missing an opportunity to cause GeekMan great emotional damage. And whenever he does make his move, that’s when we’ll pounce on him like rabid camel spiders.

And believe me, those suckers are damn quick.

I want to take a moment to assure the general public that we expect to have this villain in custody almost as quickly as we captured Mr. Bin Laden, so there is no need for panic. Stay indoors, visit this site on a regular basis for updates and whatever you do, should someone about the size and shape of a slice of white bread knock on your door and beg for Internet access, do not let them inside.

Even if they swear that they’re only a land shark.

The behind-the-scenes, super-top-secret, worldwide conglomerate of egomaniacal overlords thanks you for your time. Now, go about your daily lives as if you didn’t really believe we existed and perhaps we won’t audit you this year. And yes, I’m talking to you.

That is all.

Smile For The Nice Man

• by GeekMan • In Childhood Memories •   1

“Good morning!”

I opened my eyes, expecting to see Bread sitting on my chest, staring at me with an evil smile of impending doom, and instead saw nothing more threatening than the ceiling of my hotel room. Groggily, I looked around the room and, when I was certain that Bread was nowhere in sight, I attempted to smile.

And fell out of bed clutching my mouth in pain.

As I lay there on the industrially carpeted floor amongst all of the ancient food, dirt and other, less savory stains, I began ruminating about a great many things that had quite suddenly become very important to me. Things like life, death, the universe and whether the slight discoloration on the carpet next to my watering left eye was caused by someone’s spilled soda or sexual excrement. But what was most important to me at that moment, what was absolutely crucial to my very survival, was focusing every fiber of my being to the task of not moving my mouth.

“I said, ‘Good morning’!”

As I was now wide awake, I knew that the voice speaking to me with such a chipper and perky attitude could not possibly be Bread. Using deductive reasoning, sonar triangulation and a handy abacus that was, oddly enough, taped to the underside of the bed for just such an emergency, I came to the conclusion that whoever was speaking was doing so from inside my own mouth. I decided to attempt communication with the invader.

“Mmm?”

Even so small a movement of my mouth nearly caused me to black out.

“Hi there! My name’s Hank. Hank Cankersore. And I’ll be your relentless, stinging, shooting pain for the next several days. Isn’t that swell?”

“Mmmm? MMRRRGGGHHHH!”

To illustrate just how ‘swell’ he thought this announcement was, Hank had decided to rub up against one of my teeth, which suddenly felt about as smooth as crushed glass and sandpaper would on a hemorrhoid.

“Now, now. There’s no need to convulse with joy like that! I know you’re as thrilled and excited to have me as I am to be here, but let’s not forget that I’m going to be with you for quite a while, so there’s no need to cry. So you just get up off that floor and march into that bathroom, Mister. We’ve got some teeth to brush!”

As I slowly lifted myself off the floor and made my way to the bathroom, I realized that my entire day was shot to hell. I was supposed to be meeting with potential clients all day, but with my ability to charm them hampered by my complete inability to so much as breathe without gasping in pain and sucking air through my tightly clenched teeth, I figured I might as well suck on the barrel of a Smith & Wesson and call it a day.

Unfortunately, I had no gun.

Somehow, and I don’t know how, I made it through all the meetings and not one of the people I met with had any idea that the tears in my eyes were caused by anything other than allergies. Hank did keep me on my toes though, and there were one or two times that I nearly screamed as he got stuck to a tooth, or swelled up and snuck in between my teeth just as I was trying to bite down on a piece of food. But all in all, I kept my pain hidden from, and my smile on for, the clients.

Now that I’m home though, all I can say is, “Thank god for Anbesol.”

Money By The Pound

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   1

Attention GeekMan Shoppers.

Due to fortunate circumstances within my control, I have been forced to do actual work for an actual paycheck. This is fortunate because it means I can soon afford to eat something more than brown, moldy lettuce garnished with bathroom lint and spicy mustard.

Oh, yeah. Nothing says “delicious” like a bathroom lint sandwich.

Unfortunately for you, it means that I will not be doing my PhotoBloggery post for today. Instead, you’ll need to make do with this silly announcement and any jokes or humor I can manage to put into it in the next 2 minutes. And now, for your reading enjoyment, I present a haiku and a half;

Beautiful paycheck

Receive, deposit and spend

Lo! I’m poor again

Lovely computer

You never crash…

Damn.

Say Hello To My Little Friend

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   3

I’m really bored today.

So bored in fact, that I’ve decided to download and install AIM and invite all of you, my extended Internet family, to talk to me. Please understand that if people are mean or nasty to me, I’ll simply turn Bread loose on your sorry butt and then delete AIM and disappear back behind my veil of secrecy.

And then I’ll be petulant.

By the way, the answer to yesterdays pathetic attempt to garner comments was #7. I’ve also never had a cup of coffee and I don’t particularly like candy or sweets. Except for Funny Bones. They rock!

Mmmmm… Funny Bones…

*drool*

MightyBoredGeeK – Let the stupidity begin…

Fun With Memes

• by GeekMan • In Experiments •   8

This is my own interpretation of a meme that was going around all the popular Blogs a while ago. Here are 9 things about me that aren’t true and one thing that is.

  1. I have webbed feet which, contrary to popular belief, does not increase my swimming speed.
  2. I am a natural blonde, but I painstakingly dye my own hair dark brown with some sprinkles of silver at 4am every morning to fool my friends and family.
  3. I have no nose hairs whatsoever.
  4. My favorite pastime is going to the petting zoo to feed the orangutan’s and ride the llamas.
  5. I maintain this website purely for my own enjoyment. The thoughts and opinions of my visitors are completely unimportant to me and have no influence at all on the content and/or regularity of the postings. So there.
  6. Although many people believe I am a man, I’m actually a highly intelligent, trained African Gray parrot named Binkey doing an elaborate, government sanctioned, super-secret experiment on the uses of Blogs in coercing the general public into buying more three-ring binders and college ruled paper. America’s economic superiority depends on my success.
  7. I have never had an alcoholic drink, taken an illegal drug or smoked a cigarette in my life. Makes me even scarier, huh?
  8. After subjecting myself to the poisonous bite of a radioactive spider I can say with authority that having radioactive blood will only lead to an extended stay at your neighborhood hospital’s Radiation Treatment Center, and not to super powers and the ability to ‘catch crooks just like flies.’
  9. Bread is a real person.
  10. Due to a traumatic, childhood experience, whenever I see corduroy pants I become very frightened and can do nothing other than point at the crotch of the person wearing them, cross my legs in agitated sympathy and softly whisper, “You’re going to buuuuurrrrnnnnn. Burn, burn, burn.”

So, which one do you think is true?